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– But everyone followed you, not me. You brought us out, brave boy.
“We need to get as far away from the castle as possible so that they don’t find us right away.” We are without chains, but by the brand they can immediately guess who we are. I think we should try to get to the capital. I am, after all, a king!
“I don’t want to upset you, Dorkhand, but, most likely, someone else managed to take the throne in your absence.” Without an army, you are unlikely to receive the crown. And with the brand you will be given to another owner. Or they will return Latricha.
– But I’m the king! – Dorhand looked at Tam hopefully, but he remained impartial. – Do you have better ideas than mine?
– Let’s head southeast. They say that the largest rebel army since the last Slave War has gathered there. They are all runaway slaves, just like us. Their leader plans a great march on Lorraine to wipe out the Market, the center of the slave trade.
“I am the heir to the throne,” Dorkhand reminded, “and not a simple runaway slave.”
– No. As long as you are yourself, you will lead the chains.
Dorhand easily determined the cardinal directions by the moss-covered part of the oak tree. We decided to head southeast, as Tam advised. Dorhand felt that the further they moved away from the castle, the less the brand hurt.
“Let’s run a little more, and the sorcerer’s power over me will dry up completely.”
***
Latrich returned to the castle after midnight, wet and in no mood. Looks like the hunt wasn’t a success. When he noticed it was missing, he became furious.
– Clumsy Tom! They’re worth their weight in gold! I bought them for a lot of money. Magic flows in each of them. And without this gift my experiments are worthless! The prince is especially valuable. He himself doesn’t realize it, but true enchantment flows in his veins. I risked everything to get it! I bribed an advisor to take the royal family across the desert. I persuaded the robbers to attack and kill Linder, taking his son prisoner. If this gets out, I’m done! But the game is worth the candle! The boy will give me real power. Therefore, we must find him at any cost! Guards!
Two soldiers entered.
– Take Big Tom to the dungeon. And don’t let him out until we find the boy.
***
The wolf followed in their footsteps, but did not dare to approach. Hunger pushed him forward, but attacking ten armed men was suicide. Travelers often saw green eyes sparkling in the reflection of the moon. The owl hummed his terrible lullaby.
We ate dried lamb with a crust of bread. A flask of water was passed around. After the slave dinners, this meal seemed like a feast. Louis was sent to fill a flask at a nearby stream. They did not dare to make a fire.
“The fire will be seen from afar,” Tam said. “We’ll have to get food tomorrow,” Tam said. “This won’t last us long.”
“I told you right away that I planned to set off on my own,” said Dorhand. “That’s why I took provisions for one person.”
They climbed onto the branches to sleep. The wolf lay down near one of the oak trees, waiting for one of the travelers to fall in their sleep.
– Dorkhand, drive him away! – said Lina. – I’m afraid of this wolf!
– Will he touch you on the branch? Come on sleep! Tomorrow there is a long difficult road ahead.
– Oh, if only we knew these lands better! – said Tam. “Then we could move at night to further break away from our pursuers.”
“No, we will not move at night,” said Dorhand. “It wasn’t enough for someone to break their leg.” Then it will be difficult.
As soon as dawn spilled crimson colors onto the gray skies, the travelers began to have breakfast to gain strength before the journey.
– Where is the wolf?
– Left to look for another victim.
They walked at a brisk pace, mostly in silence, only occasionally exchanging terse words. Curious dragonflies, huge dragonflies, flew up every now and then to inspect the uninvited guests. It smelled of myrtle and juniper. The hardworking woodpecker did not get tired of working, echoing his knocking sound around the area.
Tam stopped abruptly.
– Do you hear?
– What are you talking about? – asked Dorkhand.
“Quiet,” Tam put his ear to the damp ground. – People. On horseback. Try not to make noise or leave marks. Most likely, this is a pursuit of us.
– It’s good that they didn’t start a fire last night.
– Sooner or later we will have to light a fire. Supplies are running low. But eating raw meat is dangerous.
It didn’t take long for Tam’s words to be confirmed. As dusk fell on the age-old oak trees, the sound of hooves was heard.
– Fast! Take cover! – Dorkhand commanded.
In the twilight, from a distance one can discern the shine of the brand on the slave’s shoulder. Dorkhand himself felt the influence of the magic of the sign on his hand that Latrich left. It seems that whoever leads the movement of slaves has a portable source of power over the bearers of the brand, or the sorcerer himself has gone in search. It is unlikely! What could a squad of runaway slaves mean to a lord? Or does it still mean something?..
Dorhand did not have time to fully think this thought through. An emotionless voice sounded very close:
– I see them.
One of the slaves hit him on the shoulder, right in the place where the brand was red.
“What if we just peel the skin off this place? Maybe this will remove the spell cast by the sorcerer? – thought Dorkhand.
Tam cut off three heads of his pursuers with one blow. But several crossbow bolts hit his chest. He sank to the ground.
– No-no! – the boy shouted to the whole area. Tears flowed from the eyes. The last time he experienced this was three years ago, when bandits killed his father. Will your whole life be filled only with losses?
– Dorhand, I am very glad that I was with you these days!
He closed his eyes. Forever. Dorkhand grabbed the blade, with anger in his eyes, and tried to attack the nearest pursuer. But Murray, the head of the detachment, shook his head.
– You are surrounded. There is no use in resisting. Either you all die, or go back to the owner.
Murray dismounted his mare.
– On knees!
Dorhand felt his hand burn from the inside in the place where the brand glowed bluish. He could not resist someone else’s will. He knelt down, and with him other slaves, including those in the pursuing squad.
– That is great! – Murray laughed, and Dorhand clenched his fists. A tear ran down my cheek.
***
When the fugitives were brought in, Latrich was chewing ham, drinking wine from a crystal goblet. The castle stank of dampness, the walls were covered with black mold. Cold. The dim, flickering light of the torches barely chased away the darkness. The sorcerer laughed.
– They couldn’t escape far, as I see.
He began to pace around the room, looking into each of the fugitives’ eyes. For a while, only the sound of his steps broke the silence.
– Bring Tom.
Murray went to prison. Latrich looked into Dorhand’s eyes.
– The struggle for freedom means someone’s death and blood, and most often not of enemies, but of relatives and friends. Sometimes, your own blood. And no romance or justice. I studied with Hallon from early childhood. Do you know him? One day I got tired of the taunts of a sorcerer, whom you may know as the King-Behind-the-Mountain. I also decided to run away, like you today. And he punished me severely, teaching me a lesson that I will not be able to forget for the rest of my life. He forced to kill the guard who missed the fugitives. I was seven years old then.
Tom was brought in. The big guy lost a fair amount of weight during the time Dorkhand was away. His face is bruised, a tooth is knocked out.
– Please, Latrich! I served you faithfully!
– Kill him! – said Latrich, and Dorhand, unable to resist the magic, headed towards the guard.
– Boy! Remember! I protected you! I gave you food that other slaves did not see.
Dorhand burst into tears. He loved this clumsy man with all his heart. But the enchanted brand will free the boy.
“Please don’t do this! I don’t want!”
“Kill him! Kill!”
A blow to the heart with a dagger – and warm scarlet blood poured into the boy’s hands. She splashed her face and shirt. Tom groaned and fell to the floor. So Dorkhand became a killer at the age of eleven.
– One day I will take revenge on you! – the boy whispered. – I will kill you, Latrich, I promise! And your magic won’t save you!
– No need for loud words. Every attempt you make to resist me will cost you dearly. Next time I’ll make you kill one of your friends. And maybe not just one. Do you want Lina dead? She’ll be next.
– Nooo! – Dorkhand shouted. – Please, not this!
The slaves did not move.
– Be a good girl. She will die next. She will pay for your disobedience if it happens again. I am stripping you of your name, Dorhand. From now on everyone will call you Namlis, the Nameless One!
Many hid their real names so that the sorcerers would not gain power over them. Only the best friends knew the true name. But to lose a name forever is a terrible shame even for a slave.
Most people over fifty begin to think about death. They sew clothes in which they will go on a long journey to a better world. Old people try to correct the mistakes of their youth so that nothing drags them down. But Dorkhand, at eleven years old, knew more about death than many mortals. First, the death of my father. No one closer to Linder appeared for the boy. Then the death of two friends on the same day. But should he give up? Will he be able to forgive himself if he gives up, unable to fight? Dorhand left a small scratch on his arm as a sign of yet another revenge plan.
The boy did not yet know what blow Fate was preparing for him.
Chapter 4. Revenge of the Nameless One
When you’re fifteen, the world seems full of color and perspective. You can handle everything. If you stretch out your hand, you can even grab a star, and, if you wish, the Moon. And then everything changes and becomes gray, meaningless and boring. And so on two hundred times a day. Love at this age is first, but until the grave, friendship is forever, although the closest person may be the first person you meet. Black and white, no shades. In five years, the attitude towards the world will change dramatically. Parents talk about this: “When you grow up, you will understand everything yourself.” Or maybe they do not become wiser, but simply resign themselves to the injustices of the world, unable to fight them? This is the easiest way: pretend that you understand everything, and throw yourself into the river and float with the flow.
But now Dorkhand woke up with thoughts about Lina and fell asleep. Even in his dreams she appeared to him, beautiful and naked. On these nights, he woke up earlier than expected, sweating, with rapid breathing. One fine evening she honored him with a kiss. Lina was an adult. You can’t hide your feelings from her, they are in full view. Girls always get older before boys. Such is their mysterious nature.
But she kissed not only Dorkhand. Very often, approaching the door, when Latrich called the girl to him, Dorkhand heard rapid breathing and moans. He knew now what it meant, but he couldn’t fix it. Lina is a concubine. One of several. In Beelzuvik, the law has long prohibited this kind of relationship, but will such laws soon come to Sartoll? “One day I will become a king, and I will fix everything.” The young man clenched his fists and beat them against the stone wall in order to somehow take out his anger. He is only a slave, Nameless. And Lord Latrich is also a powerful sorcerer. As soon as he snaps his fingers, Lina will die. Dorhand is ready to do anything to prevent this from happening.
Latrich now conducted experiments every day. The slaves died one after another, and new ones were brought from the Slave Market of Lorraine in their place. Latrich never left the castle again.
– The King-beyond-the-Mountain is preparing a campaign. We must be prepared for that moment,” Dorkhand once heard a snippet of conversation.
One day Dorkhand saw that Lina was taken out of the experiment room. Her eyes were closed, and there was dried blood on her chest.
– No! – the guy shouted. – Not this! She couldn’t die!
Latrich looked at him:
– You’re next, Namlis. Tomorrow you will take part in my research.
Dorhand tore the ring off the finger of the dead Lina. Her body will be thrown into the abyss, but at least something should remain as a memory.
– Darling! For what? Creator, why do I need all these deaths? I loved her more than anything in the world! She is my moon and my sun. How should I live? I hate it! I will turn Latrich into dust!
The young man was crying. The guards indifferently pulled him away from the body. And then they threw her through the window into the abyss. Dorhand clenched his fists, but restrained himself from hitting the guards. It shouldn’t attract attention. He must focus on revenge against the black sorcerer. He must not leave Lina unavenged. And Tom. And Tema.
Now nothing could stop his intentions. Friends tried to avoid him like a leper, afraid of being infected by his bad luck and that they would be next. But this is good: no one stopped Dorkhand from preparing.
There was a clear flaw in the code Latrich had put on the ring. Is the lord really so stupid in runology? Dorhand made a few changes and was enveloped in a barely noticeable bluish orb.
– Did I really do this? Did he make a ring in one evening that Latrich couldn’t take a whole decade to do?
Then Dorkhand tore off the skin from his shoulder with a dagger in the place where the brand flickered. He brought the torch to the bleeding wound. Dying from blood poisoning at a crucial moment is a stupid idea. But remaining with a brand on your shoulder is doubly stupid. When the pain went away, he realized that he was finally free.
But no one is born with a mark. Why then do some become slaves and others their masters? Life is too fleeting to waste precious moments serving someone. Let everyone work for themselves.
In the morning, Dorkhand was led into a huge hall decorated with tapestries.
– Pray to the gods, Namlis! Latrich said. – Today is probably your last day.
Blue lightning flashed from the sorcerer’s hands. But they were reflected from the magical sphere that was created by the ring that Dorhand painted with runes last night.
– Ring of immortality! – Latrich shouted. – I managed! After so much work I did it! Bring it to me!
Dorhand shook his head.
– It’s mine.
– How dare you, nameless slave? Submit to me!
Latrich expected the usual effect of the brand. But Dorkhand unrolled the cloth with which he covered the wound so as not to become infected.
– I’m no longer your slave.
