Juriy Tashkinov

Slave War


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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