The Nameless Slave 2

by Vitaly Zykov

Yarik did not really understand, why these beings were so dangerous, moreover Dukan said that these creatures from the hated Wings were not a threat on this side of the mountains. But now there was no time for reflections. Steward's soldiers stopped in confusion, as if fear was holding their muscles, so this chance provided by gods should be fully taken. Yarik silently threw his body after his master, who pushed the soldiers frozen from horror away and already jumped out of the hall. Yarik tried to keep behind. Darg rushed like a meteor, striking blows with handles of his swords and knocking people off their feet like skittles.

  «Why does it raise such a horror, that brave and hardy soldiers behave like children?!!» – Yarik just did not want to believe his obscure guesses. His memories about the first encounter with the creature, similar to those whose trumpet blast was ringing now over the square and the palace, was too terrible.

  At this point, Darg sharply turned and ran down a narrow corridor. Apparently, it was not a front passage, but one for non-official use. Windows were flashing on the right side. Another turn, and here windows were looking at some park already. There were people frantically running around. Some stupid orders sounded in the air. Armed guards hurried somewhere.

  Yarik was returned to reality by a clang of breaking glass – Darg broke a window. At the same time came a sound of stamping feet from behind. The soldiers of damn Parsan had woken up.

  – Down, seed of Cali! Down! Hurry up! Let the evil gods save us! – Yarik had never seen Darg so convincing.

  Without waiting for his slave, the young leader threw his body over the windowsill and flew down.

  «Shit of Tark! It is the third floor here!!!» – These thoughts flashed in Yarik's head already in mid-air.

  He managed to regroup in the air and after landing to abate inertia by a roll. He was not surprised when he bumped into a rosebush crossed with wild rose, Yarik was already accustomed to his good luck.

  – Follow me, you lazy creature! Keep behind! – bellowed Darg.

  «Yes, if my face looks the same, I may feel sorry about it!» – It seemed to Yarik that all these events were not happening to him. His master's face looked awful indeed. It looked like the face of a man whose head was stuck in a bag with drunken cats. Behind them was a wide cut-through in the bushes of this nightmare plant.

  Darg did not wait – he turned and ran into the park. Yarik had no choice but to run after his master. However, he had to gather all his will for that. A man in loincloth, in thicket of unimaginable thorns was not crawling his way, pausing every few inches, bat ran like an elk.

  «Oh Gods! I hate this world! Arrhhhh! I hate this nature!..» – Yarik mentally screamed, roared, raged in different ways, but made no sound – it was necessary to keep breathing.

  Finally the bushes ended, and a road began to wag ahead like buttocks of a whore. The soles of Darg's boots were pounding somewhere far away. Yarik pressed on. At this moment it all happened. The escape from the palace took less than a minute – the nomad and his slave had moved so fast. The same time it was necessary for the Wing to prepare for attack…

  Behind Yarik, it flashed so hard as if he had returned to Earth and was at a burning gas station. Then another flash and another. Then flashes came haphazardly, without any system. Explosions thundered around. Flames of fire shot up to the sky. Heat literally scorched backs of running men, forcing them to squeeze the last crumbs of energy from their tired muscles. Forward, forward! Away from this nightmare! Yarik looked around for a moment… There was no palace any more. A colossal wildfire was raging on its place, a fire which could be compared with no one other fire. Even stone walls were blazing… It was not a figure of speech. Stone really flowed like wax, and burned like oil. The massive stone building bent like a candle under the influence of heat. Some walls burst, molten splashes flew far away. Something massive and bursting with unbearable heat rushed towards the running man.

  Yarik already could not resist and cried. Like a hare he jumped aside and without looking back, sprinted after his master. Where he had been running a moment ago, now was shining a molten lake of liquid fire, and flames of fire were already trickling through the grass gaining power.

  – Everything here is going to burn!!! – Yarik did not notice how became to speak aloud.

  – So run faster! – A voice sounded near his ear.

  Yarik jumped on the spot and loudly sent the whole human race to the place where Cali sleeps, but after a moment recognized his master. Darg burned him with a fierce look, but said nothing. For some time, they were running side by side jumping over small bushes and some pits. They met no people. Apparently, everyone who wanted and could escape, were already far away from this illfated place.

  The gray bulk of park wall loomed ahead. However, Yarik realized that it was exactly the park wall, only when he literally flew on its top. Having done this he even surpassed his master. Swearing, he threw away his swords, for which he had no sheath, into the bushes and carefully began to climb up the almost flat wall. Which cracks or notches he clung to, Yarik did not understand, but his master was climbing up. Yarik clutched the crest of the wall with one hand and leg in some artful way and cursing in a loud voice ancestors of Parsan and, for some reason, Bosk (it turned out that some unknown bastard dotted the entire top of the wall with thorns!), reached his hand to Darg. He silently clung to it and began to climb more quickly. A moment and the two human shadows jumped over the wall.

  – I swear the shaggy ass of Jugha, how did you get on it?!! – Looking back and unsuccessfully trying to regain his breath asked Darg.

  But now Yarik himself did not understand how he so quickly (and even easily!) climbed over the almost sheer, smooth wall to the height of three human scales.

  – I was scared, probably… master – Yarik prayed that Darg had not noticed the pause. Today it was no time for punishment, but later…

  At this point, some growing roar appeared behind them, making their ears ring, their knees turned rubber. There was desire to fall down and burrow deep into the earth. It seemed that some giant weight was tied to each leg, but two men continued to flee, overcoming the resistance of their bodies. Yarik inappropriately remembered stories of veterans of various wars about aircraft attacks…

  At this point, his sense of danger howled again, and Yarik darted left, knocking his master off his feet. Heat puffed in his back in already such a familiar manner, and Yarik understood that he was flying. It looked as if ground beneath his feet began to quickly run away and it started to throw him from side to side. Then the stubborn surface began to approach, and it depended only on luck what part of the body would meet the ground. Yarik could not say that he was very lucky that time, but lucky all the same. He crashed into the ground at an acute angle, his hands forward, so he drove a couple yards on his bare belly, filling the vicinity with heart-rending howls. Darg landed more successfully. He rolled slightly ahead of his slave, and even got on his feet.

  Yarik began to pour out his admiration of all that had occurred to him into the outside world, as soon as he regained his breath after the landing. Even very arrogant Darg gave him a respectful glance. When Yarik stood up and looked around, his curses became even more vulgar. Where they had run some moments ago, now was steaming a crater filled with lava and exuding heat.

  When Yarik exhausted his stock of curses, Darg hitherto silent said imperiously:

  – Come on! Kurrazes will attack until they have burned the whole city. We must leave Polot.

  – Back to the camp? – Yarik ventured to ask.

  – Of course not.

  – But…

  – Shut up and keep behind!

  And they fled again. Yarik could not remember later how long this crazy running had lasted. It was day time, but it was dark like at night. Smoke of fires covered the whole sky. Every now and then they met bloody bodies. Rare survivors with half-mad faces rushed along the streets. The fire dominated around. Every now and then came roar of kurrazes and rumble of explosions. Yarik's magical vis
ion did not actually work because of the sea of magic which was splashing around. Bodies of the fleeing people were already very badly burned. Splashes of molten stone burned their flesh. Yarik saw as a man, who raced the same way screaming for help and got a molten stream that splashed from a building which literally vaporized after a strike of kurraz. The flesh from the bones of this unlucky man was gone instantly. It was terrible to watch the man trying to run, although what used to be his legs just moment ago had turned into charred bones.

  Yarik did not remember exactly, but it seemed that he fell and vomited that time. Then again and again. At last it was a feeling as if he was turned inside out. Then running again. Gusts of wind knocked him down. Strange, but these gusts perfectly suited to fan the fires.

  Then kurrazes stopped to dive and spit fire. They were hovering in the air like weightless shadows roaring triumphantly. From time to time Yarik felt as these nightmarish creatures emitted some magical emanations. Apparently, they were conjuring!

  At some point, the young slave and his master got a visible confirmation of this assumption. Only wide roads were relatively safe way from the city. In the middle of wide roads the monstrous breathing of fires which leapt from one house on another was less dangerous. Possibly because of the absence of fortress walls there were some relatively wide roads. And when, as said Darg, it was only a short distance to the exit from the city, when the fires behind escapees merged into a single wall of fire and with terrifying roar and hum were moving along the streets, the road to salvation, along which was running a crowd of people mad from fear including Darg and Yarik, this road was blocked by a strange, blue-veined red cloud of steam. People stopped. Some evil emanated from this cloud. Some very bad evil. No one dared to stick their nose any further… And the wall of fire, fueled by magical winds was approaching.

  – To Jurga with the doubts!!! Otherwise we'll die like rats! We've seen such fogs! – A guy drunk from adrenaline looked around with wild eyes and darted inside this haze.

  A moment and he disappeared in the mist. Another moment and his steps were not heard any longer.

  – Did you see that?!! All right! After him!! – A shrill female voice announced general desire of the crowd.

  People pushing and cursing, sprinted after the man disappearing into the fog. However, Yarik wanted to yell to them that it was not clear what happened with that guy.

  – Idiots, they are all idiots. There is death! – Darg's voice and was full of contempt.

  Darg, of course, did not move. Yarik stood stock-still too.

  «Of course, it is foolish to go into the mist, which stinks with otherworld forces. But they are only ordinary people, how can they know that? But how do you know about it, my lord?!» – Yarik noticed another very alarming feature in Darg.

  At this time, as if a strange wave stirred up the fog. Yarik even thought that it was not fog or haze, but it looked like sea water in which the shadows of sharks slid. Alarm bells were replaced with loud alarm bells. Somewhere on the edge of audibility, even over the roar of approaching flames the sound of torn flesh could be heard.

  – I think it's time to scoot away from here! Even if the fire does not get us, creatures from the fog will surely do! – Face to face with obvious danger Yarik forgot about subordination again.

  Darg looked at his servant and nodded.

  – You're right, slave… We are there. – He pointed at a burning wooden house, and Yarik winced and looked questioningly at his master.

  – These houses always have two entrances. There is a chance to rush through without severe burns. The main thing is to remember that the second door is always opposite the first one. Go inside, walk through a few rooms – and through the second door… – said Darg. – You first, then me. Go!!!

  «I begin to hate this word!» – Thought Yarik, then he did a few vigorous inhales and exhales and holding his breath, dived into the burning doorway. After a few moments Darg followed him. None of them saw the cloud of mist, with muffled champ, throwing a long tongue, which covered the spot where recently stood the two men with flesh so sweet for these creatures.

  It was hell inside the house. Diving there Yarik only by miracle did not lose heart and did not jump back. Nightmarish heat burned his skin. There was no way to make even a slightest inhale. Blue smoke curled and flames danced around. The walls cracked. Yarik rushed forward defending his face with his hands. Every now and then he ran into some corners, dropped some home ware with thuds. Some burning rag (how could it not have burnt completely so far?) wrapped around his body, and Yarik lost a few seconds to disrupt it. His whole body was in fire. Most of all he feared to not find the door. Perhaps Darg was wrong?.. Suddenly Yarik smashed into a wall. As it usually happens in such cases, he hit with his whole body. Air burst out of his lungs with hissing. It was necessary to make a new breath of air. Only one sip!.. Where is this marhuz's door?!! In panic Yarik groped the wall in front of him with his hands and could not find it. Where are you, my precious? Where?!! Some surface slightly trembled under his hand. It better not be a wardrobe!! Come on, open! Open!!!

  – Aaaarrhhhh!!! – A desperate scream burst from his exhausted lungs, and a breath of scorching air singed his throat. Yarik hit the door in front of him, splashing all the rage and fear that accumulated in his soul during these awful moments.

  And the barrier disappeared with a loud crash. Fresh air flooded inside, and the fire flared with renewed power, receiving the much-needed oxygen. Flames enveloped Yarik.

  – Aaahhh! Bastards! I'll kill you!!! – With an animal cry of pain and rage Yarik flew through the exit, stumbled and rolled on the grass. – Ooh! Bastards!!!

  He rolled on the ground, trying to cool his burned skin. At this time a figure in flames of fire tumbled through the broken pass. The burning man yelled and spilt curses. He mindlessly waved his arms, trying to extinguish the flames. This picture muted pain and sobered Yarik.

  «Master… if he dies… I will be the next…» – These fragmentary thoughts slipped into the brain which was foggy from pain and fear.

  Then the burned slave acted independently of his mind, slightly realizing meaning of his movements. He jumped to his burning master, covering his own face with elbow and grabbed Darg's collar, then pulled it as strongly as he could. Darg staggered and his jacket exploded with a loud crack. A couple of movements and the burning scraps were thrown to the ground. Some more confident and necessary movements and most of the clothes were torn from his master. Darg stopped yelling and calmed down, only groaning through his teeth.

  – We must leave! There! – Yarik pointed somewhere – they could see some forest through the openings between houses. Salvation was close. However, Yarik was not sure that they would get there. Not waves but tsunami of pain rolled through his whole body, every cell was burning, he wanted to howl and tear his own flesh, but Yarik pulled himself up. His will withheld his rebellious body once again.

  His master nodded. He had recovered too, and was ready to fight for his life, in spite of all injuries. A warrior is a warrior in any case… If he, of course, is a true warrior…

  And the mad running resumed. The wounded and exhausted fugitives were swaying, they constantly stumbled. With sore eyes, Yarik looked to the right, where was the dangerous cloud and saw its upper edge high above the trees and burning houses. Trees? Only now Yarik realized that they were in a garden already, which by a miracle was not yet burning. He could see a low fence ahead, and now Darg was heavily climbing on this fence. Yarik hastened to follow his example.

  «I must not fall! If I fall, I would not get up. There is not enough strength!» – Thought-orders pounded in his temples.

  The twigs out of which the fence was made, pierced into the fresh burns, and this pain cleared his clouded consciousness. He rolled his body over the fence, and a second later his heels hit the ground with pain… Running again. Some terrible noise and hum came from behind. The house through which the two fugitives had just run, flashed with new terrifying powe
r. It flashed and then collapsed with roar like a bridge withered due to old age.

  – Just in time!

  Who said that, himself or Darg, Yarik did not understand. That was not important. The main thing was to reach the forest.

  Running again. To dive under the branches of a tree, go around a pole. A tree once again. A corner of a house. Some strange rumble overhead. To duck and jump aside! Hurry up!! Faster!! Now stand still… Wait while the shadow overhead will vanish. Forward!!! To the forest!.. And again running. The exhausting running, forcing to overstrain your lungs and tearing your muscles. Someone was wheezing hard… Maybe Darg? Or, perhaps, it was your wheezing?..

  Some trees began to flash again. And soon shades covered them completely. Now the fugitives were not seen from the air… but something red-hot flashed from above and hit into the ground. A new rumble of an explosion, and a roar of disappointment when the beast realized that it had missed. Forward, just forward!!!

  It continued this way for some time, until Yarik hooked his foot on some snag and did a long jump headfirst into a gully. The only thing that was good was the small depth of the gully and a layer of rotted leaves on its bottom. Only this fact could explain that Yarik not only survived, but even broke nothing.

  Lying on the heap of leaves, covered with them from all sides, Yarik understood that he would never rise again. Never, not at any price! His lungs rose and fell convulsively, tremor ran through his whole body. Only a mega dose of adrenaline slightly weakened the pain from burns… At this point something fell from above and flopped nearby with a muffled cry. Yarik's master reached the bottom of the gully too. Judging by the stirring which began almost immediately, Darg had not broken anything either.

  – Savage! – Darg said with relief. His hoarse voice testified that this moment was not the best in his life. – Have a rest, Savage!!

  This phrase struck Yarik as incredibly funny for some reason. So funny that he even tried to laugh… and it was an obvious mistake. Something bubbled inside him… and a veil of pain covered his exhausted mind.