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– How dare you! Namlis, obey! Otherwise…
– Otherwise what? Will you kill me? So I’m immortal now. Or will you kill Lina again?
– Namlis…
– My name is Dorkhand. I am Prince Sartoll. I am the rightful king of these lands.
– Grab him! And bring a ring! – the sorcerer shouted. The slaves, shining with their brands, ran towards the young man, but a bluish sphere stopped them, not allowing them to complete what they started. Dorhand picked up two swords that the attackers had dropped and cut off Latrich’s hands with them. The sorcerer screamed. Confusion was visible on the faces of the slaves. They clenched and unclenched their fists uncertainly, their bodies belonged to them again.
– True magic is dead, Latrich. You are not a real sorcerer. Without rings you are nothing. Pathetic parody of a person! Cauterize its stumps so that it does not die prematurely. Death would be too easy a payment for him.
Dorhand lowered the iron rod into the flame, heating it up.
– Slave! – Latrich shouted. – How dare you! Stop him! – but the slaves did not want to listen to him, deprived of the rings of power. And then Dorhand left a mark on the shoulder of the recent owner of the castle. The young man took the rings from his severed hands and put them on his finger.
– And which of us is the slave now? – Dorhand grinned. – Jump on one leg. Latrich carried out his order.
– I’ll kill you! One day I will kill you! Slave! – Latrich hissed like a snake in the desert of Lorraine.
– Take him to the slave barracks. By the way, from today you are all free people. And Silerin will be the Capital of the fight against slavery.
The slaves shouted in unison:
– Hooray! Long live Dorhand.
They did not yet know what price they would have to pay in their struggle for freedom. Spit. The main thing is to live without chains and whips.
They knew the price of will.
“Give me the parchment,” said Dorhand. “I’ll write to my brother that I’m alive, that I’m heading to Lindell.” I think he will be glad to meet you.
Latrich laughed:
– Stupid idea. Nameless. Now power in the kingdom actually belongs to Councilor Langer. I paid him seven years ago to persuade Linder to travel across the desert. Do you think he will choose to admit this truth, or will he send an army to Silerin to defeat the rebel slaves? I think, most likely, he will call you an impostor so as not to admit the truth. Are you ready for war?
– I am ready to do anything to get rid of slavery in my lands.
“As I see, Namlis, you are two-faced,” said Latrich. “You want to make me your slave, but, nevertheless, you continue to convince everyone that you are fighting for freedom.”
– You will be the only slave in Seisil. You deserved it. And the rest will be free.
– Maybe you, who are in chains, also chose this fate yourself? Actions, mistakes, murders of friends, betrayals?
– Take the sorcerer away. I don’t want to see him next to me anymore.
Chapter 5. New order
A book is the best advisor. People make mistakes, and sometimes they just lie – there is nothing to hide. There are those who can hardly express the right thoughts, or prefer to talk about something that is not what they should be talking about, for fear of being punished for telling the truth or out of stupidity. And in books you can find long-forgotten secrets. The Truth is hidden in them.
“But people write books!” – you can say. The ancient sages believed that people write down thoughts in books that come from somewhere outside. True, true thoughts are those who are worthy. That is why they allowed selected wise men to write. Students must rewrite and make copies of someone else’s work. This was true until the printing press was invented.
Dust lay like a gray blanket on the shelves and books. The spider had long since finished its work, and the web covered the walls and ceiling with patterned lace. The candle barely dispersed the darkness. It smelled of dampness and paper. Dorhand again spent time in the library, trying to find something there that could help him in his fight. He found several manuscripts about the ancient Monianican order, whose monks devoted themselves to the fight against evil. The young man also read about a sorcerer who allegedly lives in the Litargian Forest.
There was a quiet knock. The door opened with a creak. A fair-haired man of about thirty with a scar on his face entered.
– Sorry, Dorhand! Am I distracting?
– Come in, Paris. Tell me, what’s new?
– Thirty more of Latrich’s minions were caught. Everyone is now in prison. What do you want to do with them? – asked Paris.
– Feed them. Give me good food and water,” Dorkhand replied.
– Did they care about us when we were slaves? We ate scraps and drank rotten water,” said Paris.
– The time for revenge will come. They are not to blame for Latrich’s actions.
– But not one of them stood up for us! – Paris clenched his fist.
– You’re right about that. But we cannot blame the soldiers for following orders. A good fighter is without a thought in his head, but he is ready to sacrifice his life, following the order of the commander,” Dorkhand said.
– So let them donate!
– Offer to join us. And the rest are in prison. I won’t stoop to Latrich’s level. If I find out that one of the prisoners is being beaten or humiliated, I will execute him.
They were silent for some time.
“Listen, Paris,” said Dorhand. – Do you think we are doing the right thing?
– What are you talking about, Namlis?
– Well, recruiting rebels. Killing, in the end, the servants of the slave traders. Maybe everything should take its course? Maybe if we don’t continue what we started, we will save many lives?
– One person has no right to force another to do anything. That’s why freedom exists. Moreover, life in chains is just existence. Not real life.
“I think you know how much blood will have to be shed to achieve your goal.” Do we have the right to pay such a price? Do we have the right to decide?
– How much blood was shed? Such exactly innocent blood. Did they have the right to put us in chains? And others. Why are slave traders better that they consider themselves entitled to take other people’s time? Has Latrich thought about the price that must be paid for his goal? We must bring freedom to our world. “I think so,” said Paris.
“You didn’t come to report to me about the fugitives, did you?” – Dorkhand asked.
– Our messenger to King Gutan, your brother, is dead. The other day they brought his head.
– A curse! – Dorhand hit the stone wall with his fist. – I wanted to fix everything peacefully!
“And I also brought news from the allies,” said Paris. – Starval himself came to visit you.
The slave revolt had been brewing for several decades. Dissatisfied with their fate, the slaves killed their owners and gathered in small camps. They robbed carts passing by and freed new slaves.
You can dissolve a lot of salt in a glass of water. At first it will simply disappear into the liquid, and then the solution will become cloudy. But in order for a crystal to begin to grow, a seed is needed that will shake the unstable system and lead to irreparable changes. Such a speck of dust on which the crystal of the spirit of freedom began to appear was the seizure of power by the slave Namlis in the province of Silerin.
Starval turned out to be a grey-bearded, bald old man. When Dorkhand came in, he was drinking beer from a roasted pheasant.
“I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, new owner of the castle, but after the journey I’m too hungry, so I asked your servants to cook this wonderful pheasant for me.”
– Not servants. Comrades.
– Sorry. I come from a wealthy family, so I’m used to servants in castles. Starval,” the old man extended his hand. Dorhand shook it.
– And what are you doing among the rebels, Starval from a rich family?
“This is an old story,” Starval thought for a minute. – Past life. Namlis, rumors about you and your actions are spreading. Your messenger arrived recently. At first I didn’t attach much importance to it. Everyone in our camp is hiding from the law, we live by robbery. In general, we are living well, but we don’t know hard times. And your proposals to go to the Capital with an army of slaves were initially treated as a joke. But lately the guards have become angrier and are pursuing further. Namlis, you shouldn’t have stirred up a hornet’s nest. I would run away like everyone else, and that would be the end of it. And you are causing trouble. The advisers from Lindell will soon send an army against us. And then no one will be happy! We have been hiding from the law for a long time! But the guards didn’t need us. And now, because of your stupid ideas, all the fugitives will suffer. Stop before it’s too late.
– You are even more slaves than those in shackles! You can’t hide forever! We must fight for freedom! – Dorhand clenched his fists. He had slept poorly the last night: Lina’s eyes appeared in a dream at the moment before her death. He dreamed of looking into the eyes of the traitor Langer, who shackled him.
“You are not the first who is ready to lay down his life for the sake of freedom,” Starval raised his voice. – How are you better than them, the previous ones? Eh, Namlis?
– I’m no better than them. But I can end the suffering of the slaves. Unlike many before me, I am the Crown Prince.
– Namlis, aren’t you taking on too much?
– My real name is Dorkhand. Have you heard of this?
Starval opened his mouth in surprise. And then he got down on his knees.
– Your Majesty, forgive me, I didn’t know! Your face reminds me of your father. But how should I know? It has long been said that you and Linder are dead. But how? How did you become a slave?
– I’m not a slave anymore! Come with me, and one day everyone will be equal in Sartoll. Get up from your knees, Starval. This is no longer necessary. Join the slave army, Starval. I know that you think first of all about profit, and not about someone’s fate.
– But, Your Majesty, I…
– Do not interrupt. So, I will give you lands when I get to Lindell.
“You have awakened memories of old battles in my heart.” I thought they were buried too deep in my heart.
– Get up, Starval! I want to build a state of equals, in which no one will need to kneel. I’ll ask you one thing. For the time being, not a single living soul should know that I am a king. Call me Namlis. I will go with you to the Lithargian Forest. Your camp, if I’m not mistaken, is somewhere not far from it?
– Yes, but I wouldn’t recommend going there. They say he is cursed. The souls of the dead have not rested; they wander at night, taking away unwitting travelers. And ghouls. And people who turn into wolves. Not a single living soul returned from there.
– Where did the rumors come from then, since no one returned? The forest holds many secrets. Some of them I still have to figure out.
Dorhand looked at the writing of mysterious runes on the iron ring, which he had taken from the sorcerer. What kind of secrets do these runes keep?
Chapter 6. The Mystery of the Lithargian Forest
Sometimes it gets cool in the summer. Whether after a hail storm, or just a north wind blowing. Dogs then shake out of habit or curl up, but people are more cunning, they don’t show their noses in public. But among the age-old oaks and elms of the Lithargian Forest it is rarely warm. Maybe the dense crowns of the trees are too high, and through them it is difficult for the sun’s ray to reach the damp earth, or maybe this place is truly cursed.
It smelled of myrtle and dampness. Strekkili, huge dragonflies, often rose in fear from the briar bushes. Oak trees are covered with a thick layer of greenish moss. Dark and gloomy. Dorkhand, who had parted with Starval the day before, was now making his way among the impenetrable bushes on his own. Starval offered to send a small detachment with him, but Namlis flatly refused. Dorhand did not want to advertise the power of the magic ring for the time being.
Dorhand crossed his arms over his chest to protect himself from the biting cold wind.
“Here to pick mushrooms,” thought Namlis.
And the memories came flooding back with pictures and sounds. His father often took him to the forest himself, not entrusting important matters to servants.
“Learn to protect yourself, son, then problems will bounce off you like water from an oil-soaked frying pan. The forest is an enemy for many, but for those who know how to communicate with it, it can become a true ally.”
Dorhand picked a bunch of scarlet berries and threw them into his mouth. He grimaced – sour. One of the strekkils fluttered up. A branch cracked. Dorhand turned around. Behind him stood a terrible creature with pale skin, huge bloody fangs and small scarlet eyes. It gave off a terrible stench and roared.
– Human! It’s been a long time since I’ve drunk human blood. Delicacy!
Dorhand backed away, and the monster looked sideways at him and gave chase. But then a huge wolf jumped out from behind one of the trees and interrupted the monster’s flight. The wolf grabbed the creature by the throat.
– This is my prey! – the monster screamed.
“We warned your tribe of ghouls,” the wolf said in a human voice, “These are our lands!” They belong to werewolves! Don’t come here! This man is my prey!
– I found him first! He is mine!
– Get away, across the river!
The ghoul scratched the wolf’s belly, and he responded by grabbing his throat and tearing off his head. The creature roared before it died. And then the nearby oak trees were doused with blood. The werewolf howled.
The wolf turned his head to Dorkhand and clicked his teeth. His eyes filled with hellish fire.
– Food! – he growled. The wolf overtook Namlis in a couple of leaps, but, hitting an invisible barrier created by a magic ring, he fell to the ground. Growling a couple of times and making several scratches with his claws on the damp ground, the wolf again rushed at Dorhand. And again he hit the invisible barrier.
– And you are not as simple as you seem at first glance. What did you forget in our forest, sorcerer?
– I need to talk to your leader.
The wolf began to change before our eyes, acquiring human features. After some time, a short, hairy man of about forty wearing a wolf skin cape stood on all fours in front of Dorkhand.
“You shouldn’t have come to our lands,” he said, standing on two legs. – We don’t like guests. I alone could not cope with your spell, but with the whole tribe we will tear you apart.
– It is unlikely.
– What is your name?
– Call me Namlis.
– Wow, Nameless. Don’t trust me? You’re doing the right thing, Namlis! If I found out your real name, I immediately subjugated you to my will. The magic in our family has not yet faded.
A whole group of ghouls came out from behind the trees.
– He killed Kurt! That wolf trash killed Kurt!
– What have you forgotten in the lands of the werewolves? Why did you come here? – he turned into a wolf again and howled, and his howl echoed through the forest.
