The Nameless Slave

by Vitaly Zykov

  However, capricious Fortune turned her face to him. He stumbled on some bar and flew headlong forward. Yaroslav hit his hands badly and tore the skin on his face, but he did not pay any attention to such trifles. He shivered in horror and covered his head with his hands, helplessly waiting for death. But nothing happened, just a furious roar of frustration shook the air in vain. Yaroslav pulled his hands away… The raging beast was standing behind a low stone barrier on which he had stumbled. The animal was crushing the trunks of surrounding trees in rage, but did not dare to cross the border. Its eyes were shining with terrible fire. Now when the trees foliage was hiding sky and a rare ray of light could reach the ground, the animal made an impression of a true nightmare. Even in Roshag's company it was not so creepy. The animal woke some primal instincts in Yaroslav's blood. Civilization slipped off and exposed the ancient insides. Having felt comparative safely he got to his feet, but the genes of ancestors made him drop on all fours and bare his teeth. He wanted to roar, rage, and tear the enemy with his teeth.

  But the beast did not attack. It disrupted its anger on innocent trees, and now calmly walked up to the barrier and without crossing it, lay on the ground. The fluffy tail of the cat was twitching spasmodically, showing impatience in the beast's soul. Though it was clear that the pussy was ready for a long wait.

  Yaroslav gradually calmed down and braced himself. He looked around, trying to understand where he was. He was standing in the center of a stone circle with diameter of about three yards, fenced with some barrier. The barrier was built from rough stone blocks. The top of the barrier was decorated with stone heads of some beasts, arranged about one foot from each other. Yaroslav examined the perimeter along its whole length. To do that he had to turn his whole body around its axis. The beast behind the barrier did not move but attentively watched Yaroslav's every movement.

  All the heads decorating the barrier did not exceed the size of a man's fist. There were heads of all kinds – heads with fangs and horns, with beaks and long ears, with two mouths on both sides of the head… suddenly his glimpse caught at one particular head. It repeated the head of the beast behind the barrier in all details. Yaroslav touched it with his trembling hand and pulled the hand back with hiss, then put his fingers into his mouth like a child – the stone had burned his skin.

  With his fingers in his mouth, he looked at the circle under his feet. Its entire surface was covered with obscure characters, much like the Arabic script. The symbols flowed one into another, their interweaving was fascinating. Yaroslav could not help staring at them. In the center of the circle was carved an abstract picture. The skill of an unknown carver was astonishing. The picture reminded a delicate lace draped over a stone countertop. The imagination of the carver was astonishing too. The images could not be described in words. It seemed that the lines of the picture were constantly changing their places, interweaving in unimaginable combinations. The stone picture was living its own life. With each passing moment the image seemed more and more material. Yaroslav barely tore his gaze off the picture. Was it just him or did it really become brighter?

  All of a sudden the beast sprang to its feet and ran off from the barrier. A protest whine came from his mouth. Yaroslav glanced down at his feet. The characters, so similar to the Arabic, were covered in bluish lights. The lights were like little sparkling balls. Yaroslav stepped back and stood on the symbol in the center of the circle. The flashing lights merged into a single stream. The ring of light was twirling under the man's feet. The stone ring became to tremble. This tremble passed to the man's whole body. His every cell began to vibrate. Yaroslav heard a screech within an earshot.

  The beast was attentively watching the scene from the safe distance. Only it could see how the man's body disintegrated into tiny components and how there formed a two-yard column of quickly rotating particles. The rotation was gradually accelerating, until the center of the plate was streaked with thin lines forming petals of a stone flower. An unimaginable bud gradually began to unfold. Standing up almost vertically, the petals uncovered a hole that sucked in the small tornado with a joyous roar. The beast shook its head angrily. The prey still managed to escape. The ancient device, which had slept for thousands years, woke up and fulfilled its destiny. The beast turned and ran in long jumps to the place where, as it remembered, there still was a lot of prey, so similar to which had just escaped. Nobody saw as the ancient mechanism took its former form.

  Oleg and the girls were running quickly down the road. Their few things, the packets with fruits – all that had been left at the camp. The girls were running with pitiful sobs. Oleg cheered them, as much as he could, but tried not to stop. It was all about running. When he felt that his companions were exhausted, when they began to breathe hoarsely, gasping air, he let them change run to quick step. Then, after a short break, he forced them to run again. Oleg himself was running easily, without any strain. Army and sport hardened his body and spirit.

  Though physically he was in a great shape, his moral condition left much to be desired… it was excruciatingly embarrassing that he had to leave a member of their group. He did not like Yaroslav, but he still was their comrade… Oleg was not accustomed to leave comrades… But something did not let him stop and try to help Yaroslav. Some animal instinct developed in the mountains of Tajikistan, gave him no rest. «Run, run, run…» – sounded in his mind. And he had learned to trust his instincts. An unusual beast came to their camp, they would not scare it off with shouts and sticks. It was a predator no less dangerous than the dead dragon. Besides that, the reasons why was abandoned such a beautiful road built for centuries bothered him…

  They ran around a turn and reached the place they were heading to. The sea shore. The road led them to a stone pier. It stretched for hundreds yards, dozens of ships must have moored at this pier before. The bollards solemnly stood on the clear stone covering of the pier. Oleg's thoughts were interrupted by a cry:

  – A ship!!!

  That was his girlfriend who was yelling. Oleg put his arm around her waist and looked where she was pointing. At a distance, there was a ship with masts.

  – Shit!!! They will not see us! – Said Oleg. – Everybody scream and wave the rags!

  The last phrase was addressed to Olesya and Natasha, who were embracing each other with joy. He set an example himself – took off his jacket and started to wave it, shouting: «Hey!!! We are here!!!» The girls began to help him at once.

  The ship made a sharp turn and headed to the stone pier. It had considerable speed and glided weightlessly over the water like a shadow of albatross. Oleg stopped shouting and waving his jacket. The girls meanwhile continued to greet the rescuers enthusiastically. Something alarmed Oleg. Where is the hum of the engines? Where are the usual forms of Earth vehicles? This ship had a very unusual shape… The black ship with predatory contours resembling a flying arrow, was silently approaching the coast. It was impossible to say anything about the material from which the ship was made – obviously, it was not metal, but neither was it wood. Three masts, slightly inclined towards the stern, some superstructure in the middle of the deck, two units of unknown purpose on the bow and the stern – all that was strange. Some people in dark blue uniform were busily scurrying on the deck. Some of them were getting ready for mooring, but the others… they were obviously going to repel an attack. Some people were vigorously uncovering the unit on the bow, the others lined up on the deck armed with some crossbow-like devices. Suddenly the line of armed people parted and a man, dressed in a long tunic of monastic look with a hood pulled down on his face, came on the deck. Obviously, he was a very important person – one could easily tell that by the reverence of the other sailors.

  – Well, at least, they are humans… – Oleg gasped with relief.

  Finally, the ship came to a distance of several yards, Oleg picked up a rope the sailors threw him, and wrapped it around a stone bollard. Several people jumped from the ship and fixed the rope more thoroughly. Then they threw a
ladder, the guards ran ashore and professionally took the pier under control. Some sailors aimed their weapon at the frightened people. Finally the hooded man came ashore in a quick step. He stopped in front of the people and stared at them. There was painful silence. Oleg did not dare to speak first and the girls stood so that Oleg fenced them from the dangerous people.

  The silence was broken by a powerful roar of the frenzied beast. The guards tensed. The unknown weapon on the ship bow was aimed towards the roar. From behind the road turn, where Oleg and the girls had recently run, appeared the beast who had attacked Yaroslav and it was approaching in long jumps. The girls screamed in unison. The hooded stranger sharply pulled off his hood, his piercing eyes were gazing at the beast. His hoarse voice gave a command in unknown language. Each guard sat down on one knee and fired from the crossbow. Unbelievable, the beast managed to dodge somehow and was still running towards the people.

  «To the ship, hurry up!» – The voice of the unknown commander came straight to the minds of the travelers. In face of the danger, they all obeyed without any question. At this moment the ship guns shot. Two fire arrows darted to the beast. It seemed that the fire covered the animal. There was a cry of anger, and the fire extinguished. The animal was unharmed. Having seen that, the people ran. Once Oleg with the girls were on board, the guards began to retreat rapidly, scattering the beast with arrows, which dotted the air in swift strokes. The beast retreated, leaving the line of fire. At this time, those remaining on the shore, ran back to the ship. Only three men stayed there on the shore. One of them was the man with the hood. The two other, tall men armed with swords, shielded him from both sides. Some poisonous-yellow symbols were shining on the blades of their straight swords. The beast froze. Its tail furiously lashed its sides. The ship guns did not try to shoot any more. The people on the ship held their breath, each of them was clinging to weapon, they felt that should this trinity fail, the others would die very soon too.

  All of a sudden the man with the hood held out his hand. A lump of yellow energy broke from his hand and flew at the creature. One could feel some kinship of this energy with the characters on the swords. Its form resembled a piece of cotton wool, but it was living, vibrant and powerful. The eyes of the monster lit up with inner light in response and two lightning hit from them. The two charges of unknown energies encountered. There was a struck of silent thunder. The shell of the man reduced its speed, began to shimmer and absorb the unexpected obstacle. The streams of energy looking like jagged lines were flowing from the beast's eyes trying to reach the victims already sentenced to death. It was a battle of forces. The man was standing holding out his arms as if pushing against some wall. The beast was standing in posture of attention. But it was clear that superiority was not on the man's side. His shell slowly began to swim back. At that moment the man imperiously shouted some phrase and drew a complex symbol in the air in front of him. Then something strange happened. His shell increased, took the shape of a yellow ball then broke into a swarm of flickering sparks, these sparks formed a fine-meshed net which covered the animal in one jerk. The energy flows, pouring from the beast's eyes, exhausted. With a protesting roar, the monster became to struggle. The beast was captured, but no one even tried to take advantage of its immobility and to kill the creature. Its imprisonment looked like a temporary situation. But the men remaining on the shore used this temporary delay and literally jumped on the ship. The monastic clothing of the man was smoking – at the moment when his shell transformed into a swarm of sparks, two lightning from the beast reached him.

  The four sailors pulled the ladder to the deck. One strike of an ax and the rope holding the ship was cut. The ship fluently cast off from the inhospitable shore, and Oleg could not even imagine what kind of power was moving it. A terrible roar of disappointment came from the shore – the creature got free and was raging on the beach, but it did not jump into the water. A sigh of relief came from each person on the ship. Someone took Oleg's shoulder, he turned. A man in uniform was gesturing to follow him. Oleg sighed, threw a farewell glance at the inhospitable land, called the girls and they all followed the escort.

  CHAPTER 4

  Irung was standing near a porthole and watching the frantic running of green waves, bisected by the ship prow. His hands were spinning a cup of black wood, a moment ago full of excellent red wine. He loved and appreciated good wines (and that was century old Ralayat wine!), but this time he did not feel its taste. The thoughts of the young magician were on that beach. Well, who would know that immediately after their landing they could meet a marhuz[12]. An ancient nightmare monster from the Wars of the Fall Age[13]. A monstrous creature from laboratories of Dusk Empire[14] that their followers had successfully used in the Wars of the Fall. Intellective, rapid and deadly, possessing their own magic, almost immortal beasts, they ruthlessly destroyed armies of Allies in that time, despite all resistance. Only usage of the Great artifacts saved free folks from destruction and enslavement then. This meager knowledge from his school years seemed unimaginably distant and was always perceived like heroic tales. Irung even thought before, that marhuz was a fable and its name was kept merely as a swearword.

  But no! Here it was, a real marhuz, just very young, two or three hundred years old. Only this fact could explain that he and his team were still alive. Well, who could have imagined back then, but Irung could hardly keep control over his own spells on that shore! The damned beast struck with such power, that his spells were sprawling like smoke. One of the most deadly spells, the Net of dwarves, which could incinerate any magician (except Masters), worked there as a merely immobilizing net. So much effort to make it for what sake?! If it could at least swaddle the beast, but the creature released as easily as if playing. Irung could not do the same! Though, he had the fourth rank, he was in fact equal to the second. And that means a lot for a knowing person. But marhuz did not care about his rank. It easily survived the blow of the «scorpion», resisted attacking spells and easily coped with the most lethal spell. Moreover, it was difficult to cast spells there even for him, a True magician, but marhuz did not care about that either. Marhuz struck with such force that he had survived only because of the charmed mail, which he had providently put on under his clothing. The cloak and the camisole could be discarded to trash, even though he had recently paid for them five farlongs to a merchant from Jugha. From all of that he wanted to yell something terrible and extremely rude. Irung was not used to suffer humiliation.

  Only one fact was pleasing – he had managed to rescue four people, a man and three girls dressed in utterly ridiculous garments and speaking in a strange language. Irung was afraid to admit even to himself that it could be great luck and it could turn out that these people were from another world. And it was he who had found them and was going to bring them to Seven Towers… But there was no time for dreams. Irung resolutely put the goblet on the table and sent a mental impulse to the first mate:

  «Invite the rescued people to my chief cabin… And set the course to the south of Gorkh, Cape of Aurs. We're returning home».

  The response impulse was brief, as usual. The young captain took off his pierced and still smoking jacket, opened the wardrobe door and paused, choosing a new uniform, and insensibly plunged into memories again. But that time, his thoughts were about the way from the Old Harbor.

  The «Kiss» went from Seven Towers a month ago. The magic engine confidently carried the ship over the waves. They reached the waters of the Dark Ocean in three days. The way was surprisingly easy, and the weather was helping them. Not a single storm or hurricane – for the Dark Ocean it was amazing. The ship passed along the coast of Tlantos, the kingdom of hidden evil, without any trouble. They had not even met any border guard ships. The way was clear, free, no obstacle clouded it. He could think – just sail and be happy, but something did not allow Irung to be quite calm. This «something» was a feeling of someone's gaze. As if someone invisible was staring boldly at his back. And that feeling appeared near the s
hore of Tlantos. That was alarming. The young magician used to trust his feelings.

  Then, however, it was forgotten as he had more important cares. The ship was deep in the Dark Ocean, and it was necessary to be at ready. The «Kiss of the Great Snake» was a battleship, a sea hunter, designed for fight (perhaps very short!) with the most powerful and secured opponents, nevertheless it had a difficult time in those waters. Eight times (eight!) it was attacked by a variety of marine creatures. Such as giant stone turtles and crest sharks. From the latter they had to flee. Those fiends of Abyss were left behind after a five-day race. Only high speed and maneuverability saved the ship, otherwise even its charmed black wood would have not withstood a conjoint attack of these monsters…

  At this point Irung's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He quickly donned his favorite coat with gold embroidery and signs of swordsman on the collar, closed the wardrobe door and went to his personal chair at the head of the table in his chief cabin. He stood there next to the high back of the chair and allowed to enter in a loud voice. The door opened and the saved guy and the girls behind him walked in in a single file. The first officer closed the door, leaving the captain alone with the rescued people.

  Irung gave the most arrogant and significant look from his collection to the newcomers, and after a while made a gesture of a host inviting the guests to the table. He set an example, pushing the heavy chair aside with a short magic impulse. That was impressive. The guests widened their eyes and dropped jaws! It pleased Irung, although it was strange that they perceived such an innocent magic act as something unimaginable.