Brown faces!

in this chapter the last free noblemen are captured by the awful Brown faces...

 

BROWN FACES!!!

 

The shades around the forty-nine fugitives didn't change their position too much, when Ambigat got up with them. The appearance of the huge man differed in no way from that of a storm cloud that quite often had gathered over their former homes. The frowning nobleman asked the group's leaders to stop for a while, whereupon he gathered everybody round himself.

“It wasn't very easy for me to extort something from the reticent last night's kidnapper of my boy.” began the burly mountaineer in a gloomy voice. “I endeavored for all that and to my great regret Leohar's bad confessions surpassed many times the worst expectations that had ever crossed the head of anyone of us.” the skillful master of light weapons heaved a deep sigh in that way, as if he didn't feel like talking about things like these any more. “The enemies have spread on a very large area since we really fought with them for the last time. Their underground tunnels, forming branches, have reached even the mountain lands where we settled after we saved our skin from their greedy clutches. The Brown faces have posted well-paid scouts everywhere throughout our tiring march, making sure in that way of the perfect knowing of each our step. But it seemed we surprose them too, because we acted comparatively fast and not quite according to their suppositions, though all the maneuvers of our people took place in their malicious plans. The Warlikes will find us all before long wherever we go or hide. Therefore I suggest that you split into groups as they will search for you longer in that way. We with Bren have to disappear in the meantime and to be perhaps caught.”

“What do you mean by that "we with Bren?” asked Aleut with perplexity, shaken at the revealed truths.

“The cave bear, that my boy killed, didn't know anything about him, because she just looked for our place for living as then the spiteful Conquerors weren't aware at all of the infant mountaineer too. But somebody of the taken prisoners wizards seem to have seen something in the future at the leaving of our village and that thing, which he had told to the awful masters not at his own free will, was connected with my so audacious and good boy.” Ambigat stared at his son all the time. “Immediately after that the Brown faces announced without wasting time what a high reward the man or the creature that brought to them the young killer of the hairy scout or put in certain evidence for his killing would receive. If I together with the ten years old warrior leave you, the Warlikes' efforts will direct to us and you will have a fairer chance to escape.”

“No, anything but that!” shouted Alvin firmly. “No one agrees that the enemies should catch you two as a stooge for the rest of us. And Bren has to be protected by more blades, because obviously his life is more important for the freedom of our people than all of us here put together!”

The boy listened to the argument in amazement, being astonished so much at the things discussed by the serious elderly people. ‘Is it really possible that these explanations about my unusual importance for our future are true?’ couldn't he comprehend the sense of the heard words. The controversy amongst the desperate men didn't stop but then finally it became clear that nobody else except the young nobleman, because of whom the fugitives were slow, discussing feverishly what exactly they should do, supported his father's idea.

“Well, all right,” sighed the burly smith with resignation when it became as plainly as anything on whose side the warriors were. “Once you want to end our life together, so be it! But remember - you all chose that way and it wouldn't be easy and would bring a fatal slavery to all of us!”

“While we are still free there is a glimmer of hope that we will escape unscathed!” smiled the young Antib against his will. “It is time for us to go to what lies in store for us instead of moaning as if we are Brown faces chased away by their people.”

Exclamations of approval sounded on all sides, therefore the gloomy warriors fast made (perhaps for the last time) the long line and then started in silence in the quiet forest. AII around contained so much quietness that some of the more inexperienced mountaineers wished passionately that Ambigat's disclosures turned out to be only a tall story of Leohar, who had been disgracefully chased away from the seashore. Two of them even whispered their thoughts aloud, but hearing them the more elderly fugitives frowned much more then told them to forget to speak for the present. The young men fell silent right away as all of them felt the discontent in the gloomy men's voices.

Bren didn't listen and didn't watch where he set his feet, walking after the leaders of the noiseless group. His desperate father's words resounded in his head again and again: "the Warlikes will find us before long, wherever we go or hide". The keen hunger that made the boy's stomach rumble, didn't interest him a bit. Everything what the courageous noblemen were doing began to seem useless. Why had they had to leave the limpid lake at all with the stone houses around it, when now all of them would become a part of the numerous slaves of the hateful, evil brown faced monsters? It would be much better to continue living high in the mountain lands, expecting the spiteful Conquerors with their sharp swords. In either case finally the hateful enemies' brown hands would get hold of them at the end again...

All day long the fugitives didn't stop even for a second. Their too tiring and fast march had exhausted enough each one of them, although nobody showed it. Little, many-colored birds sang in the centuries-old trees' crowns, busy with their important deeds namely to peck at a pip from time to time or to cheerfully scuffle together three or four at a time. AII of the beings that had beautifully colored plumage, were watching with curiosity with their very little beady eyes that line of people not giving out any sound... Jumping from branch to branch they got more and more nearer to the thoughtful mountaineers, because it seemed to them still peculiar how the big two-leggeds broke away from their likes and hid carefully in twos or threes in the forest. The disappeared ones came back after a while but immediately other noiseless warriors started straight ahead amongst the thick trunks at once.

When the forest animals began to get ready for a sleep, the burly Ambigat in silence lifted up his strong right-hand in the fallen down sinister dusk. That was a sign for a short rest and all of them stopped in order to beguile their hunger with the food that had been given to them so generously by Aaron the diver... The new loafs of bread and the well-prepared sea fish smelled sweet extremely appetizingly and the fifty fugitives had become hungry very much, therefore they addressed themselves very greedily to the food on the table arranged in a hurry. Only the wizard Alvin didn't touch anything of the tasty things. "I feel dizzy once I see such a sight as that one before your eyes" explained the elderly man quietly to the girls by whom he had sat down to have a little rest and who gaped at him with astonishment.

The youngest one in the group took a hurry-scurry bite and stole up to his huge father. The master-smith was taking a good meal by contrast with his infant boy, thrusting such norsels in his mouth, what Bren or each one of the rest of the mountaineers could eat at three times. The young nobleman's face was intent but he couldn't refrain from laughing as he watched how his closest man made the roasted fish disappear.

“Dad?” the ten years old mountaineer put his hand on the huge warrior's wide shoulder.

“Yes, my son,” turned Ambigat aside to him. “Don't you like the food?”

“Is it possible that a boy at my age may be of such a great importance that everybody of his people suffers because of him?” groaned out the infant warrior sadly.

“I don't know,” replied the strong man. “The exhausted captive of the awful Brown faces, who was looking in the future when your little but tough hand was sticking the knife into the hungry cave bear's heart, would answer your question best. It is no use asking even the penetrating Alvin as he also knows as much as the two of us.” the master of light weapons looked for the wizard and once their eyes met, the skillful smith gave a faint smile and said:

“I can only declare to you what a talented possessor of incredible abilities would become of my son if we got out safe and sound of the Conquerors' ambushes!”

“Is my brother taken prisoner of the Warlikes besides mum?” peered Bren in surprise into the broad-shouldered mountaineer's eyes. “Why you've never told me about him until now!”

“When we decided to live together, your mother and I, we didn't have much time for ourselves, for our love therefore only you saw the light of day. We haven't another boy though that idea is not a bit bad. I meant you, my son a little while ago!”

“I would be able to be a wizard? You are joking, dad! Uncle Alvin told me himself that nobody would help me to accept the Magic, didn't he?”

“By the way, here he is,” said Ambigat. “You yourself can ask him.” and busied himself with the food again.

The possessor of the wonder-working abilities had silently come nearer them. He took a good grip on Bren's shoulders whereupon he turned the infant mountaineer in that way so that he might face him.

“Your father is absolutely right, my boy,” said the elderly man very seriously. “The two of us with the burliest warrior amongst us learned about that in the morning before we visited the dragons' hunters. I wasn't quite sure then but was it possible that otherwise the Conquerors would offer so much gold to the midnight visitor in Aaron's big house where your tired father and you yourself slept so sweetly? It is not impossible that some time later nobody will be able to see the others any more if the Conquerors drag us away in the vaults, therefore you must know, my young possessor of the Magic - you differ in no way from the former first magicians who didn't need teachers in order to be able to use the wonder-working abilities.”

“I will be able to build stone houses?” uttered the ten years old nobleman dreamily. “Why are you so certain of your words, uncle Alvin?” hurried up Bren to ask, as he didn't realize yet the sense of the said things.

“I haven't picked up so lively and incredible dreams, filled with minute details like yours.” replied the grey-haired mountaineer. “It seems that we have to leave the conversations for a better time, all of the rest are ready to start.”

The darkness filled all the forest but the lanterns remained deep hidden in the bags with the luggage. There was no trace of moon in the night sky and there wouldn't be later too, because thick rainclouds was gathering bit by bit over the hushed warriors. "That water from above tops it" murmured the fast walking people discontentedly. The knowing of the weather was one of the main qualities of the noblemen, as the secret knowledge of making of weapons with the help of the sunlight, therefore although everything around seemed that way as if it did not feel moisture several months, the fugitives put on with foresight their raincoats of the light, gauzy cloth. They just did that and big drops began dropping very fast on the dry, cracked ground. And after a while such a heavy rain poured on the poor, frowning fugitives, that the more distant trees were seen with difficulty. Of course that flood rain did not prevent the experienced leaders from stealing forward confidently as before, setting their feet cautiously in the giant puddle into that the forest had turned. The cold torrents of fresh water, that were pouring down from the sky, continued breaking on the trees' branches and on everything down them with the same might, contrary to all the expectations. Rainfalls like that usually came to an end shortly after their beginning, only now there was not any sign of something like that. The waterproof sheer clothes that the warriors wore, didn't help them enough already to guard against drench. There wasn't a dry mountaineer amongst the fifty fugitives when Ambigat turned back and removed his big cowl since it was only an obstacle to him without serving for what it was designed.

“If it lasts like that for a month, the Brown faces will never find our footsteps!” shouted the huge man faintly, and trickles of rain water oozed down on his unmeaning face.

But the heavy rain "lasts like that" about an hour and a half and then it subsided until finally single drops fell down only from the overhanging branches. The clouds kept on obstructing the moon preventing its pale rays from lightning up at least for a while the trying travelling of the last free mountaineers.

The majority of the drenched travellers were very tired of the continuous walking in the bad weather. Their feet got sore as it hadn't happened to them to that very day, therefore they hastened to step out aside of' the main group so that they might change their wringing wet trousers and top-boots with such ones of the comparatively dry bags with the luggage. Bren ran up to his father too, as far as his sore feet let him do that, as there wasn't anything tempting in that one walked with clothes from that water dropped. In violation of the hard march, the muddy puddles everywhere and all the men surrounding him, who sank into themselves, the exhausted boy at least felt a latent joy, that was rising in his chest every time when he was thinking within himself what the old wizard had told him, while they had had their supper. Poor ten years old Bren! If he only could dip into the near future, then all the pleasant mood would disappear from the young head right away.

There wasn't a man amongst the fifty mountaineers who guessed how soon they would have to swing the swords around in a desperate fight for their life. Because the best made-up ambush in the awful history of the Warlikes, as the Brown faces who would take part in the catching of the poor fugitives would boast later, was a little way off the tired travellers... But even if they knew about the enemies waiting impatiently for them, the ancient noblemen could hardly escape their chasers for a long time. Although it wasn't obvious at first sight, the forest was infested with noiselessly flying, specially trained korks. Two Conquerors were always installing themselves with gloating smiles on their faces on their flat flexible bodies.

Ambigat, Ballick and Alvin led the exhausted group to a not large glade where many years ago the possessor of the Magic together with his beloved had walked through in order to pick unusual herbs growing in quantities in the land around. The pale light of the moon shone a little through the broken apart clouds, therefore the gloomy leaders decided to go round the open area, though there one could walk considerably more easily. Formerly, when the wizard had come here, the surroundings had been full of various animals that had filled the centuries-old forest with pleasant for the ear sounds even in the night. Though now, perhaps because of the flood rain that had poured on the huge trees, an ominous silence reigned around the green grass that was lit up by the pale moonbeams.

“I don't like that calmness at all.” whispered the thickset Ballick.

Alvin gloomily nodded understanding how right the teacher of the young mountaineers was. The elderly men sent the master of swords together with other three warriors to examine the forest, so that they might feel easier in their minds. The rest of the warriors hid as better as possible and froze in an oppressive expectation of the four scouts who had disappeared among the centuries-old trunks.

“Oh, how I would feel better after a warm bath in my stone, built by Magic home by the mountain lake! Whereupon I will eat with pleasure a deep, big bowl of freshwater algae, poured by some juice of night fruit. Undiluted!” said Oralin who huddled up by the youngest one in the group, looking at Bren with an arch expression.

The young boy became silent with a sad smile on his face, shrugging his shoulders, a gesture that showed how helpless they were to do the wonderful things that they wanted. Three of the men, who had gone reconnoitring, appeared from the darkness to the left of the young men. Ambigat showed a moment after them too, carrying in his huge palms a few tasty night fruit with many little droplets on them. The scouts explained quietly that there was nothing to be seen in the near surrounding area, besides the darkness and the calmness as everywhere in the forest. The burly smith of the light swords gave out the tasty green balls to the youngest noblemen, and he didn't fail to apologize for the small quantity that he had picked.

“To take some more I had to be very late, because the rest of them were five yards over my head,” said the huge mountaineer in a tired voice. “Portion them out among yourselves, but eat them on the way. We are much pressed for time to lose it.”

Suddenly the air was splitted by a harsh, whistling sound and the thing which caused it hit the shoulder of the best warrior in the group of the last free mountaineers. The thing had the vague outlines of a snow-white, thick thread. It was not a secret to anyone what the meaning of this rope was, that stuck on Ambigat, so the swords' edges shone right away by reflected light from the moon that came out for a while among the broken apart, dark clouds. Alvin cut the sticky article, that wound round the strong smith's arm, though a part of it remained close stuck to his tough muscles. Unfortunately that didn't help at all, as dozens of the same packthreads began whistling from the high tree-tops and all of them almost always hit the badly surprose fugitives. The sharp weapons were slashing all over the place but big korks, mounted by maliciously smiling Brown faces, began to come down with the speed of lightning from the night sky to the desperate, ancient noblemen... The awful warriors started flying round too fast over the mountaineers' heads as they did not stop throwing all those thick threads. Some of the noblemen were already wound up so much that they weren't able to move. Of course the still free exhausted men and women were trying to help them, though all those tries weren't crowned with a great success.

When the Warlikes saw in what a wretched situation their future captives were, they directed the flat creatures still nearer to the wet, slippery ground in order to be able to make their strong enemies harmless more easily. But that wasn't without consequences for the self-reliant riders of the weightless korks, because the fugitives fighting furiously did not miss the chance to show their combat skills.

“Don't kill anyone!” resounded Ambigat's voice among the big, old trees. “Don't do that whatever they do to you!”

Everybody who held a weapon listened to that wise advice, therefore the attackers remained alive, though the majority of them got light or heavier woundings after they came nearer enough to the light swords. Swearings from the horrible mouths that were curved maliciously by the pain, sounded everywhere on the battle-field. Many of the Warlikes left the fight by compulsion because of their unenviable condition, but more and more awful Conquerors came in flocks in their places.

The desperately brave warriors were very few, compared to the ugly enemies. The end of the engagement wasn't far distant and it would not be in behalf of the noble people together with that. ‘Everything around is happening as in uncle Alvin's poem again’ shuddered Bren and the third sticky rope wound round his exhausted body. The boy began to jump so that he might go to a more concealed place only that the thick threads tightened his legs very fast and the young mountaineer fell flat on the ground completely helpless after the second jump. Two of the hateful monsters came flying from above at once and landed their kork right by the infant captive…

“Do you think that this is the sought miracle, Oan?” said the one of the Brown faces who had been wounded by Ambigat's big sword. “Or we must find him somewhere else.”

The ten years old warrior felt how they turned him with the awful intention of examining his face.

“This is it!” cried out the other Brown face priggishly. “The vain travellings in the repulsively damp forest have come to an end!”

“That's it!” laughed out his companion and the laugh that came out from his wide mouth resembled the growling from a sore, bear's throat. “It will be such a good merry-making, that I haven't exercised over the water wretches for many long years, until we take along the new captives for their real training to the Chief.”

The ugly man who discerned the so frantically sought boy, snorted maliciously at that ominous statement and fixed his gaze intently on his compatriot, who was ready to kill all the fugitives around for the pleasure sake only.

“I want you to treat the white-skinned wretches as it was commanded by Kabil before we started! If you don't do that I'll be that one because of whom the rest of your dull existence will pass as an occasion for unpleasant stories, scaring to death the young pupils in the vaults!”

“All right, agreed,” hurried up the Warlike with the fervent will to "take care" of the mountaineers to reply in .a conciliatory manner. “I'm able to wait a little too, once you insist so much.”

Bren looked about him as far as the ropes tightening him up let him do that during the short conversation between the two Conquerors. The sight of the battle-field was very discouraging, because there was no one of the fifty fugitives who had managed to escape the terrible captivity. All the captives looked like giant cocoons by the white threads, wound up them from head to foot. It seemed that Ambigat proved to be the mountaineer in the most miserable situation who had also caused the greatest and most painful trouble to the evil monsters at his capture. Bren's dad looked twice bigger than usual, the enemies could even roll him as they wanted to, because of the sticky ropes round his strong body. A few ugly Conquerors were doing exactly that kind of action, talking animatedly with one another by their awful voices about the cunning ambush. And the young boy turned sharply towards the awful ravishers that were very satisfied with the done things, felling all the time that he would not bear watching any longer the mountaineers who had been caught by treachery.

“What are you going to do with us?” shouted the young Bren holding back the welling up tears with difficulty.

The two of the representatives of the Warlike people exchanged glances in astonishment, being bewildered how a certain taken captive lad was able to try to talk with them when they didn't ask him about anything.

“Everything, little dear one, everything,” said the Brown face who threatened his compatriot with a chasing away from the vaults, affably and carnily smiling. “From today you, together with the other fools that like the limpid liquid, will have the great honor of spending your awful life digging black metal, gold or jewelry for the greatest men in our world. It's the only truth but I don't notice that you are in great raptures over it you probably didn't understand what I tried to explain to you.” his awful words were attended with such a hard slap in the infant nobleman's cheek that Bren felt his left side of the face like swollen a long time. “I suppose you must prepare them for starting now!” the Conqueror who was looking at the boy, sneeringly shouted after that.

The Warlikes with joy started doing their present evil leader's orders and took out special, big glass vessels, that contained counteractive substance, intended for the sticky threads. The enemies of the noble men untied the desperate warriors' legs owing to it, amid sinister laugh and vile insults, addressed to the helpless captives. The ropes weren't cut anywhere and they just lost their wonder-working properties. The white products' ends were dipped in a vermilion fluid carried in a big clay jar by the Brown face who had been the first to come down toward the strong noblemen. The packthreads connected with ease by such a treatment, so all of the fifty fugitives were tied one with another in a long row after about ten minutes. Almost with enthusiasm the horrible Brown faces gathered the swords that lay promiscuously about, but although all of them unwillingly took the flying discuses round them, they would never use them for something else but that to burn them in their big fireplaces.

Now everybody in the forest glade prepared for an awful travelling towards still more disgusting places, therefore the loud-voiced commands of the dark-skinned enemies sounded in the night, attended by hard kicks and blows with hands clenched in a fist. The storm-clouds had almost disappeared from the sky, opening the bright moon so Bren managed to examine the Warlike people in details. On their ugly heads the Brown faces wore black helmets with three longitudinal crests from the foreheads to the scruffs of the skulls. The armour of the same color covered their thickset bodies and the awful monsters' arms and legs had a lighter metal covering or rather something like lengthened bracelets because those strong products were as long as one third of the limbs, thrust into the shining cylindrical things. But the safety clothing didn't serve its purpose as its possessors expected during the unequal battle. Many of the malicious Conquerors were badly wounded (not to death, of course) by the exhausted mountaineers' light weapons that cut the metal on the warlike warriors in some places in that way that it could be taken off from the awful inhabitants of the vaults without much efforts. For a while the sight of the well-fixed Brown faces cheered up the boy peering at them only once the exhausted warrior thought of that where they were going now, he had a great fit of the mopes right away.

The elderly men and women's faces were grimer than ever when the Warlikes brought them to a big mound after half-hour not very fast march. The Brown faces broke into cries with joy and very quickly said a consecution of spells, obscure for most captives, to the low hill. A long hole opened in the black height, through which three persons could thread their way at the same time, without being an obstacle to one another. New blows showered on the tied noble people in order to be made cross one of the numerous gates leading to the horrible Conquerors' world. The gloomy mountaineers had no choice, therefore they began walking on a sloping, very dark tunnel without any light in it. The crumbly ground moved nearer mysteriously behind them and shut out forever the sight of the sky becoming pale with the moon and stars that were still outlined.

The representatives of the malicious people lighted a few torches inside in the came on darkness, before they continued forward. The discouraged fugitives carefully examined the walls surrounding them by the vermilion radiance from the burning sticks and all that damp mould filled one with dejection.

“We are so sorry that this tunnel here is not coated in big stone plates as usually the older ones like it look like”. said the leader of the Warlikes loud, taking his place in front of the captives' train. “Unfortunately the slaves did not endeavour as it answer the purpose that all of the new replacements might be met, because the tunnel was dug very little time ago. But you mustn't worry, I myself will ask our king for a permission you all beat black and blue the impolite lazy persons with your own hands!”

An explosion of hoarse laugh exploded after the "joke" and the Brown face who caused it, lifted up his sword in order to establish order among his compatriots joyfully running mad. The ravishers became silent at once expecting the next ridicule with pleasure.

“Is it possible that you like the suggestion that I've just made?” asked the leader in surprise, because no one of the recent fugitives displayed the slightest indignation.

“No, master!” declared Ambigat suddenly. “It is just too useless that the mountaineers annoy you and the others of the Great people even before we have done some work for all of you!!!” the huge warrior made a bow, so far as the ropes let him do that, with a bitter smile on his mouth and the expression of his eyes was the same as when he had been killing the four bears.

The Conqueror arched his eyebrows in surprise, after that he came quite near to the smith of weapons and looked at him without winking... The awful Oan's pate hardly reached the nobleman's navel but that didn't prevent him from looking ferocious.

“Your words are somewhat wise, wretch,” said the thickset Brown face rudely. “Who has told you what the address of a water worm like you yourself to us has to be? I don't remember my catching of you ever before.”

“My first taking captive of the Warlikes was during that night.” confirmed the huge man. “But I have heard a lot of things about the way of life that the taken captives creatures live in the endless tunnels.”

“Either they've lied to you or they haven't told you enough details or you haven't listened well.” hissed the low Conqueror. “Otherwise your mouth wouldn't talk about work and you would be going to kiss my legs on your knees asking for mercy. No one of the Great people feels satisfaction if all of the slaves show slyness and wit out of place!”

“Oh, we can do such things without difficulty!” exclaimed Ambigat, bowing toward the ugly midget's metal shoes.

The Brown face waited for the moment when the nobleman's head came nearer enough to the floor, whereupon he suddenly kicked out the tanned bearded face. The blow was so hard that the rest of the tired captives shuddered to the last man. The burly master of weapons stood up quickly without even groaning out, though his fractured nose was bleeding.

“Dad!” cried out Bren involuntarily, seeing what Oan had done.

The huge man didn't pay any attention to his young son, he bowed as low as he could to the small, compared to him, ravisher instead of that.

“I am always at your service, master!” said Ambigat officially as he was smiling cheerfully.

It seemed that the Conqueror rested satisfied with the smith's all behavior because he said much more calmly now:

“If all of the captured wretches fulfil the orders that way all of you will lead an easier life in the vaults. But don't try to swindle us or to escape. New times have come on and therefore today it is almost impossible for you to leave the tunnels!” then he hurried up to look again at the captive with the fractured nose. “It will be good that your unreasonable, little lad learns to have good manners.”

And then the gloating Brown faces began pushing the men that were tied one to another further down below towards the sinister and very horrible things that were going to open out before their eyes very soon. The light of the burning torches was poor and the exhausted noblemen often stumbled in the dark. Each delay like that caused at least about three blows on the fugitives' bodies. Not much time had passed when there wasn't already such a man of the captured slaves who didn't have a few bruises. ‘Perhaps we are not in such a big trouble once dad was doing horrible things like those’ consoled Bren himself, endeavoring to be further off from the big fists of the armoured enemies. Ballick was walking in silence by the infant captive but the boy didn't dare engage him in conversation as he was going to arouse the ravishers' anger right away.

The tunnel where they were walking, joined with another vault that came from the right and it continued much wider than before and its walls, ceiling and floor were covered with big stone tiles. Many muted voices sounded far away ahead that was why the fatigued captives guessed that they came close to the last object of the hateful Conquerors. "The giant hall, the giant hall" began the Brown faces to shout animatedly and the miserable mountaineers had more wounded spots on themselves in order to hurry up to the yellowy radiance streaming about fifty yards of them. The light place's heat before the new slaves could be felt after a while so all of the words of the conversations from there began to be discerned too.

“At last we are in a warm place again, in the cosy dark vaults!” shouted the leader Oan loud, who first entered into the large gallery. “We all are very late but it was worthy because now there is no one of the last free water wretches anywhere!”

A brisk fire of huge, dry logs was burning in the middle of that large, dark hall, where dozens of Conquerors were warming themselves. All of them were talking slothfully with one another, until they saw what kind of visitors they had. Then the Warlikes left the cosiness by the orange flames trying to outdo one another in examining of the captured slaves and then they expressed their admiration in envy for the well done, very hard work of their compatriots.

“You will be rewarded with a free hand.” a tall, extremely ugly Brown face with eyes half-closed by malice, said to the proud Oan who stood beside him. “Kabil knew what he was doing once he entrusted the leadership in that march to you!”

“THE MASTER Kabil will treat your body badly if he knows how you pronounce his name while he is away.” replied the ravisher with an expressionless face because of whom now Ambigat was breathing with effort. “I wonder whether our king will arrive soon.”

“Perhaps after about an hour.” muttered the envious Conqueror captiously and walked away fast to the other part of the hall so that his malicious eyes might see how the digging of a new passage was going.

The newly arrived Brown faces ordered the fifty noblemen to stand that way that they might see them well without difficulty, until they got warm at the fire. The Brown faces (or rather their slaves) had put very beautiful, long carpets on the floor that was coated with many colored tiles. Five half-naked men who came from a too long and horrible, dark tunnel on the right, with a great endeavour arranged the deprived offhand food supplies of the tied captives on the stone tiles. Those servants to the last man looked that way as if they hadn't eaten and had robbed themselves of sleep very long time.

“Hey, skinny worm,” grunted out Oan. “Don't you see that you leave the tasty fish too close to the burning firebrands?”

The tall old man with a long, white beard at whom the insult was levelled, gave a start and tossed back his hair with the color of a new snow, that reached his waist.

“Forgive me, master,” uttered the white-haired slave and rushed to rectify his blunder. “My eyes are tired of the ceaseless peering for the yellow gold and the precious stones in the dug out soil.”

“Don't even think to give an explanation to me, fool!” shouted the Brown face complacently. “It seems you haven't soon had a taste of the useful whips for upbringing once you talk nonsense.”

The resilient ropes, produced with the sole purpose of beating the guilty slaves, were made in a very special way to be elastic enough. Therefore the pain of the lash with a thing like that was three times more severe than the contact of the usual products with small balls at their end by that the Conquerors made the captives work faster, when it appeared to them that they were slow. But the threat did not give the old man a start at all, because only now he, bent down by the fiery flames, noticed who exactly the fifty new slaves were. His staring eyes fell on the tied mountaineers and when he saw the injured Ambigat, the old man's hands began to tremble and dropped the fish in the fire.

“Sonny?” uttered the elderly servant. “Sonny!” the white-haired digger of underground passages rushed to the master of light weapons without conforming with that what consequences his deed might have. “I've really lived long enough to see you again, my boy!” the tall, thin captive held tight in his arms the smith who was dumbfounded by that meeting, then big tears of pain and joy, which had been forced back for a long time, began rolling down on the white beard. “Why is your nose bleeding?”

“Grandfather?" uttered Bren very quietly. "Is that happening to the people who are staying longer down here?"

“Don't do that, dad, please!” hurried up the burly mountaineer to whisper to him. “The burnt food will cause great troubles to us...”

Ambigat was absolutely right. Oan kicked out the sobbing old man in the groins with all his might and with an extremely fierce expression in his face. The dad, who had been glad till a moment ago, fell down on the tiles. Then new blows followed on the exhausted body, whereupon the mad Brown face threw the fish, charred through the thin servant's fault, on his unsheltered, bare chest. The white-haired slave groaned out with the hot touch but he didn't remove the smoking piece from himself, because he was guessing that would bring still greater trouble on himself.

“How I am glad every time at the sight of the awkward silly things, done by your dirty hands.” hissed the leader of the group of Conquerors that had been sent to catch the mountaineers. “You have not the smallest grain of common sense in your old head, therefore you will have at least thirty lashes!”

“Allow them to whip those lashes on my back, my master!!!” uttered Ambigat who stepped forward and pushed his father unnoticeably aside so that the hot meat might roll down from his thin body. “I was the real cause of that event.”

The Brown face smiled spitefully, giving a signal to other two captives of those men who arranged the table, to set on his feet the slave who was doubled up with the blows. Under Oan's command that was impatient of opposition, they took their old confrere, who dragged along with a great difficulty, to a big, stone pole ten yards of the hot fire. There the old feeble hands were tied one to the other as they embraced tight the cylindrical stone.

“Let me suffer the punishment.” fell the desperate master of light weapons on his knees. “I hope that your mind will get much greater satisfaction when you vent your completely righteous anger on a newly taken captive slave!”

Unfortunately the huge, tough mountaineer's entreaties made the Conqueror in the awful spirits angry still further.

“How dare you try to change my already given order!” shouted the horrible Brown face furiously. “I have been disappointed in your obedience once you will continue to show sympathy or whatever your water tribe calls it not when I would like to in the future! And if your desire to be beaten is so overmastering I won't oppose. Bind him on the other side! Personally I will cover your back with stripes.”

The two servants didn't wait for other repetitions and they hurried up to wind off the tight white thread from Ambigat's strong body. After that they tore the big man's garment at a stroke, without showing a bit of sympathy, so that the lashes might be more painful hitting the bare skin.

“Shall we remove his trousers, master?” asked one of the slaves impassively.

“No, fool,” said Oan haughtily, preparing his instrument for "upbringing". “Hurry up to put him on the pole for punishments because I haven't administered justice a long time ago.”

Bren's big father didn't offer any resistance, therefore the two captives saved themselves the trouble that they could have till they took him to the still weeping old man. The Brown face with the maliciously whistling whip at every more jerky motion of his hand, turned his steps towards the rounded stone pole, ordering on the way to the servant who had expressed readiness to completely undress the insistent Ambigat, the task that was a credit for him, to execute the punishment of their old relation. The elastic ropes with the function only to give an unendurable pain, cracked on the unprotected bodies of the falsely accused mountaineers. The whistling sound together with the red lines that appeared on the strong backs were so awful that right away an uncontrollable anger welled up in Bren, the youngest one of the captured fugitives. All of the rest of the noblemen looked at them as dumbfounded, incapable of helping their woeful compatriots by anything, but the ten years old warrior couldn't stand it any longer at the third lash, starting ahead with the firm intention of stopping that awful scene. But Ballick who stood by him, saw the infant captive's recklessness on time, therefore he stretched his strong leg in order not to let the boy make the matters worse still.

“Don't do that under any circumstances.” whispered the tough teacher persistently. “You wouldn't help anybody that way.”

“Why, they can kill them!” grunted out Bren desperately.

“Look intently very well at the slave who is whipping your grandfather,” said the elderly man quietly. “Though the white-haired nobleman is groaning, the lashes on the infirm body only look as though they are painful. The servant knows very well what to do to keep almost safe and sound one of our best warriors. The Brown face on the other side is drubbing Ambigat hard, but your incredible father is not giving out any sound and these thirty lashes won't have much effect on his back that is tough as a huge water dragon. From this moment on we have to get used to implicit obedience, if we want a better future for our people...”

The endurance of the noble people was proverbial and the burly master-smith had patience for three men, therefore Ballick's words contained the truth itself. Bren gave up the intended interference and started counting the lashes that left with impatience. ‘Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty...’ moved the young captive his lips closely, when suddenly a peremptory voice came as if from the other world, and ceased the executions of the punishments.

“What's going on here?” that one who said that, looked like a bull although of a quite smaller size, under the skin of an awful warlike Conqueror. “Are there quilty ones?”

Oan dropped the whip right away with a scared expression in his roughly formed face, then fell flat on his nose on the stone floor. The man who was beating Ambigat's thin dad, did the same, followed by everybody in the big hall. Even the still tied fast mountaineers laid foreheads on the party-colored tiles.

“Oh, our overlord!” his subordinate that had cleverly led the detachment of malicious warriors at the capturing of the fifty fugitives, lifted his head to the Brown face inspiring respect. “I carried out all your orders!”

The king of the Warlike people didn't say anything, only his eyes became still more restless and sinister once he began examining the captives who had just arrived not of their own will. An extremely unpleasant smile appeared on his lips at the explanation of Oan who did not venture to stand up, that the lad in the middle of the long line was the boy who was looked for high and low.

“Are his relatives here too?” asked Kabil (that was the name of the awful monsters' chief) impatiently the armoured men sprawling on the floor who still didn't budge an inch. “You can stand up for the present!”

“Yes, master!” the leader of the numerous group of weightless korks' riders jumped quickly to his feet, pointing at the round stone pole for punishments. “This old man is Bren's grandfather and his burly father is on the other side. Must we kill all three of them?”

“Don't do it yet!” replied the brawny Brown face authoritatively. “I consider that it would be much better if we make a short consultation before that.” the king stared carefully at Ambigat's tough arms that couldn't move. “The younger guilty slave's face reminds me of something... Very few of the water rats know the method for making of the light weapons and to this very day no one of them has told it to us. I've learned from the other captives' stories how skillful a huge smith is at the craft, who managed to escape our cunningly set trap together with a part of the attacked years ago mountaineers. Is that so, ice fool?” Kabil stood on tiptoe and jumped up so that he might reach the burly smith's dark-auburn hair that fell down almost to the shoulders, then hard pulled his head back.

“Quite so, my master!” smiled the warrior with the fractured nose spontaneously. “But I don't think that the cutting metal blades, made personally by you, can help the Great people in their intention to conquer everything and everybody. It would rather be better if you teach your numerous people to a real, skillful fight! You will ensure might of all of the Brown faces only by that.” Ambigat behaved in that way as if he was talking to a five years old child who refused to have a breakfast, therefore Oan angrily lifted his whip for punishments.

“You will have to pay through the nose for the clever ridicules!” cried out the Conqueror in a rage, flourishing the thick rope, but the king gripped tight his ready to kill arm.

“I haven't ordered you to beat him, subordinate.” explained the tough leader. “Let us see is there something true in the suggestion of that burly slave. I will take his light sword and you give one of the thin, breakable sabres to the water worm.” Kabil drew his ugly face up to the smiling master of weapons. “You can say good bye to your life, wretch, because even if you cry for mercy, you won't get a thing like that!”

The burly man saw that they prepared a curved romphea, similar to a big knife and very unhandy for an event like that, therefore by slight effort without breathing a word, he broke the threads tightening his hands... The Brown faces in the big hall exclaimed with surprise as they were looking with fear at the smith who had got free all by himself and he completely imperturbable took the thin blade before him. No one of the ugly Conquerors remembered that there was so much strength in an ordinary warrior, no matter if he was as huge as Ambigat who stood wide astraddle on the stone tiles. The king of the Brown faces was taken aback too by all the actions of his present enemy, but he came fast to himself as he felt the masterfully made, cool hilt of the shining, long sword in his palms that had broken into perspiration for a moment.

“Shall we begin, master?” asked the smith with his unchanging smile that didn't disappear from his swollen face. The thickset Conqueror didn't answer, he skillfully turned the long weapon over his head instead of that and rushed forward. The huge mountaineer stepped slightly aside so that he might escape the sharp edge whistling in the foggy air, and put the end of the romphea to meet the stab of Kabil who was too tense... The worthless sabre was a bit shorter a second later and a big, curved piece of metal was lying near to Alvin's feet. The gloating sigh of relief together with the cries, that escaped the numerous monsters' lips, attended the temporary success of the monster who fast moved around the smith. "Cut off his head, overlord!" shouted the Conquerors and the king lashed at the huge Ambigat's neck, encouraged by his compatriots' support, but the bearded man ducked down with the speed of lightning, lifting the broken, badly forged steel over his head. A new little piece detached from the edge of poor quality and this time fell too close to Bren who didn't dare breathe.

While the duel continued filled with suspense, the master of light weapons didn't shun the evil "master's" furious attacks, that came to an end with a little shortening of the romphea almost every time. The mountaineer's jerky jumps were limited in a small circle with diameter of about a yard and a half, so the burly smith almost didn't move from his first position. For all that the leader of the hateful Conquerors didn't even manage to touch with his big weapon the brawny body of the tough enemy who smiled all the time. But the cutting part of the thin and breakable sabre became very smaller quite soon, therefore Kabil obviously calmed down, certain of his undeniable victory. As the long hilt could not answer any of his purposes against the forged light in the ugly Brown face's hands, Ambigat threw it skillfully in the yellow flames of the blazing fire in the middle of the hall. The king, pleased at the fight's development, immediately aimed his sword's shining edge right at the bearded warrior's heart. Of course the burly man did not stand there as a statue and did not wait for the worst to happen, while he turned aside from the waist up. The light weapon pierced the air just within an inch from the smith's mighty chest, but what followed made all of the evil Warlikes shudder with fear. The best fighting one in the former mountain village hurried up to grasp fast with his right palm the self-reliant king's hands holding tight the metal hilt, a well aimed blow by a knee followed at the thick, dark colored wrists so the otherwise strong, brown fingers opened by themselves... While the awful monsters collected their faculties, the burly mountaineer brought down his short enemy with ease on his back. Whereupon the smiling master of swords lifted his own sword with the help of his leg even before Kabil thought for getting up.

“Well, my master,” put Ambigat the blade cutting everything on the king's chest. “I will always be at your service!”

The strong man's knees touched the stone floor and he hastened to made a low bow, then most carefully put the sharp weapon by the chiefest Warlike's feet. Kabil slowly got up, assisted by four subordinates who immediately came running.

“You could kill me,” said the thickset leader of the people with a brown skin in a tone that boded nothing good. “Why didn't you do it?”

“It was hardly wisely on my part.” shrugged the burly nobleman his shoulders, indicating knowingly with his head to the tied forty-nine mountaineers.

“Until now I haven't come across more skillful fighter than you, wretch,” said the Brown face completely calmly. “All of the others of your coldlike tribe fight very well too, therefore I have always wondered at your stupid way of thinking, because of which you don't want to start a normal life whatever the Great people suggest you. You can have thousands of frightened slaves, rule vast areas with beautiful lands, amass untold riches, find out the delicious thrill of the absolute power. I would agree with joy to share the robbed plunder, the captured men, and the won treasures with the "noble" people if we manage to become allies by some unknown way. You have only to think for a while.” addressed the king himself to the other mountaineers now. “Quite new life awaits you, as the just burgeoned out, vernal leaves on the trees in the forest are brimming over with green, compared to the fallen down, last year's foliage! The price that all of you have to pay is not high at all at that!”

The Brown faces in the spacious underground hall were taken aback with the unexpected speech of their great leader. It was the truth itself that no one among the armoured warriors expected that such a suggestion could come out from Kabil's mouth. The new captives, too, hoped still less to get the "wonderful" opportunity to be like their eternal enemies.

The smile disappeared from Ambigat's big face and it became very gloomy and thoughtful. The huge man slowly lifted up his head before he replied to the provocation that was addressed to him.

“I am not able to speak for all our clan.” the huge, strong nobleman with the fractured nose said quietly. “Let's ask the others first, what exactly they think about an Idea like yours, master!” tile smith began to look intently at the wizard who had been silent till now.

"Allies" sounds very temptingly, king.” uttered Alvin clear. “But I would prefer to keep my beard and moustaches for ever as if we all become friends with the Conquerors, we will lose this so typical feature of the noble men, together with the rest that makes the difference between us enormous beyond description. Even the Magic will run away from my body, being struck with horror of the done thing. No, thank you, my overlord, but I will not fulfil your wish. It is hundreds times better if I die in awful pangs without relatives beside me, than I live with a soul ruined for ever.”

“Whip fifty lashes to this cunning person.” ordered Kabil mercilessly to two Brown faces standing near by him, who cast glances filled with hatred at each other and tried to fulfil every one of their master's whims.

The pointed out armoured warriors busied themselves with the grey-haired wizard right away. Once he felt his arms free, the possessor of incredible abilities gave forth big as his lifted left palm white ball of magical light. The concentrated Magic stuck to the huge smith's injured nose with lightning speed.

“If my memory does not fail me it wasn't ordered to you to do anything,” said the dark-skinned overlord spitefully. “Increase his punishment with thirty more lashes!” then he ominously directed his steps to Antib. “Let's hear the thoughts of a younger one!”

“Oh, you most powerful among the powerful ones!” began the young nobleman talking but he contained his anger with difficulty. “I've really wanted to take a close view of you for a long time, of course without the view being long till the end of my days, together with everybody who I love at that. The thoughts that rage in my head won't be heard, because my beloved will put an end to her life after you finish me off. That is why you only have to know that no one of the representatives of the ancient and noble people will ever become a Brown face!”

“Bind him on the stone pole too.” hissed the Warlikes' king.

While the willing subordinates were removing the white, tightened threads from Antib's body, Kabil came nearer to the young Gika.

“Here is the one who will forget the stupid stories of the elderly mountaineers by that the children learn to hate the Conquerors to extremes from their earliest age.” declared the chiefest one among the armoured warriors in an almost joyful tone. “You won't deny at the insistence of so great man like me, will you my dear one?” the ugly face leaned over the dark-blond head for the sake of a greater effect.

Dread beyond description was hiding deep in the girl's beautiful, black eyes, caused by the piercing look, that the Conqueror, resembling a bull in the prime of its life, beside her had. But that did not prevent her at all from behaving with dignity as an experienced, mature mountaineer would do it.

“One cannot gain the greatness with killings, or striving for enslavement of innocent creatures and still less with punishments,” said the fourteen years old Gika firmly. “I am not old enough to talk with such a conviction about important things like these, but I cannot be close with the killer of my parents.” two hot tears rolled down from her not winking eyes just at the mention of her father and mother who had disappeared without leaving a trace, no matter how much the young heroine contained herself.

“Oh, don't cry, my dear one!” exclaimed the ugly king sorrowfully. “All of those ones, who my warriors captured ten years ago, are alive to this very day. Most of them feel very well, I hope your father together with the woman, who has endowed you with life, are among them. Do you want to see them right now?”

“Yes, yes, I've always dreamed of that.” replied the girl with a sorrowful smile. “But I don't want under any circumstances that the long-looked-for meeting takes place here, and in our former mountain village as free people, not threatened by anything!”

Kabil growled out something incomprehensible, after that he gave orders for the whipping to be stopped. His next order was connected with the master of light weapons because two tough Brown faces in a hurry bound Ambigat's legs and hands in strong and heavy chains. The rest of the mountaineers met with the same doom, and before long they got such awful, metal shackles in the place of the sticky ropes. A frowning Brown face took Bren's crystal away from him in silence, the magnificent musical instrument that had made Gliza and Antib show their skills in dancing when they had been on a visit to Aaron's divers. Waiting for his pleased subordinates to finish with all the new captives, the leader of the Warlikes raised his voice loudly so that the insidious, awful words might reach everybody's ears in the hall.

“The "noble" people didn't want to change their habits as always.” cried out the king. “I didn't expect at all that somebody of your united, fifty-member group could become one of the armoured warriors. It appears it was destined that Brown faces should always be in torment on their numerous, mighty raids without the really superb knowledge which our mountain slaves had. But if you do not want to find out what rule over the lower creature is, you will know the feeling of the endless fatigue, the unendurable hunger and the hard manual labour. Your wise leader in the last desperate flight failed and till the end of your miserable existence...” Kabil stopped here, because the Warlikes around him fell flat on the stone tiles therefore the chief one in the underground, dark kingdom turned back sharply to see the reason for that the evil army in metal helmets dared not to budge an inch.

A comparatively well looking woman with brown skin was standing behind his wide back, and she was overdressed by enormous number of golden adornments, hung up everywhere, where it was possible, on her beautiful, expensive clothes. She was looking at the tough king with great anxiety, without thinking of saying of an order, allowing the subordinates to get up.

“It's time for you to come in your chamber,” said the slender Brown face woman restlessly, fastening her eyes on the only awful man that was standing up in the middle of the lighted up gallery. “That foolish wise woman felt the arriving of the new slaves and that one who she loved was among them. Take him along with you and follow me, because everyone is ready for the important counsel.”

“I'm coming right away, my queen!” replied the brawny leader then gave a sign to four of the strongest warriors to conduct Ambigat after him.

‘Mum is alive? She has been in the most horrible captivity at the Brown face monsters during all those ten years but she's not dead!’ cried out the youngest one of the captured mountaineers in himself, looking at the walking away Conquerors who rudely pushed his father forward. The Brown face who was envious of Oan for his good battle tactics in the unequal combat with the fifty fugitives, gripped the thoughtful Bren by his hair and began to pull him to the new, unfinished passage in one of the dark corners of the big hall.

“Can I take the rest of the new slaves so that we might complete faster the inner tunnel?” the monster, that made the boy groan with pain, asked the chiefest one, at least for the present, among the Warlikes around.

“You need only about ten, and not the whole herd,” said the awful man haughtily with the armour shining in the bright flames, who had wounded very bad the burly smith's face. “I permit you to make the lad lose consciousness with digging, but this makes no sense that everybody comes, because the room there is small and most of them will rest. Perhaps we'll receive orders to cut the young wretch's throat very soon that is why don't spare him!”

A spiteful smile arose in the face of the Brown face, dragging hard the infant nobleman. Besides Bren the ugly warrior ordered Aleut, Gliza and Antib to walk before him together with seven more poor slaves of the newly arrived men, while he muttered to himself quietly: "What a pretty face the queen Izolda has, but I see her very rarely..." The young tired mountaineer desperately looked round him to see the wizard but the grey-haired Alvin wasn't there among the chosen eleven diggers of the underground passage. Finally the boy's eyes, feverishly looking for him, found the possessor of the Magic near to the fire where two Brown faces tightened the shackles on the wonder-working hands. The elderly man's all back was chequered with the whipping by the thick whip, that he had for the "disobedience". Though he was the most wounded one by the punishment, he stood very firm, without staggering at all, as he carefully looked around him too, perhaps to see someone. When they looked at each other's eyes, Bren realized that the builder of stone homes had wanted to see just him because a faint smile fluttered in his lips, then he closed his eyes for a while... The ten years old warrior was very puzzled over the wizard's strange behavior and tried to run away to him only that he had some painful blows by the spiteful Warlike's hand, therefore he gave up his decision. But before he lost sight of him, Alvin blinked in the same manner whereupon the two Conquerors, putting in order the metal chains on the wizard's wrists, took along the grey-haired mountaineer somewhere. ‘What did the exhausted possessor of the Magic want to tell me?’ wondered the young boy. ‘Perhaps it is something very important so I must comprehend it at any cost! I wonder whether he meant that I ought to concentrate with my eyelids closed, so that he might send some message to me by the Magic?’ There were roughly fifteen yards to the new tunnel and Bren examined the tiles in a hurry to the place in whichever direction they were walking in order not to stumble over something if he didn't watch where he stepped. The cold stone floor was even, therefore the young captive took a deep breath, sealing his eyes. Once upon a time, a long time ago, the wizard had used to narrate how the possessors of incredible abilities could send their happy or sad thoughts to everybody if only they wanted that, and the man receiving the hidden pictures must not be distracted with other things especially when he didn't possess the wonder-working skills. The infant warrior had never "spoken" with Alvin in that way before, because the most elderly nobleman in their former village had almost always been in no humour for pastimes like those. But the boy felt something unusual in his tired mind at once, in the darkness, wrapped him up on all sides. The young captive heard quiet sounds that turned into a clearly understandable speech after a moment.

‘You have to run far away from here, my dear one!’ spoke the grey-haired wizard's voice word after word with anxiety. ‘You are extremely necessary for the further normal existence of all the good creatures everywhere on Earth. I cannot understand some more things from your faint mother nor yet from my wise woman. Both of them don't feel well enough to "tell" me their knowledge more precisely. But it becomes as clear as anything by what I see in their mixed-up thoughts, it is very important that you find the rock pieces, the same ones as your sudden saver. And now my boy I want you to use your hidden skills, that haven't been shown till now. Just abandon yourself to the feelings, and then send to my mind how well you hear me by the magical way, because it's really necessary for me to know whether you took that message of mine.’

Bren was startled by the wizard's last "words", because he wasn't certain what he had to do. Opening his eyes for a moment, the horrified infant captive saw the new passage three steps before himself. ‘I wish I'll make it’ set the young warrior his teeth, after that hurried up to begin speaking in his mind with a sinking heart. ‘You possess the Magic to perfection, uncle Alvin! I would be very happy if you could understand the things I want to say, so clearly, as I felt your anxieties.’

“Hey, you there, stupid mite, set to work right away!” cried out the Brown face supervising their eleven-member group. “Don't even think about being slow, otherwise even your huge father won't help you!”

“Yes, master, I will be willing.” replied the young mountaineer submissively, grabbing fast from the dug up soil an instrument similar to a pick.

“Leave that down, little water worm!” said the supervisor loudly, who had dragged Bren by the hair so painfully. “Take out the heaped mould and after that, once you remove it, your lungs will jump out by the hard lengthening of the tunnel!”

The infant captive began to fill a big, clay jar with the black, wet and heavy soil but his grim face became radiant at once. ‘You manage with all that perfectly, my boy! You need much shorter training than you think within yourself, so that you might send messages as a real, experienced possessor of the Magic!’ Alvin's thoughts contained phenomenal satisfaction. ‘Ambigat is coming here, therefore very carefully take all the next mental pictures, because they will be the way for outside.’

Such a clear image arose in the ten years old captive's head as though he was dreaming that he was walking on the pictures of underground passages being sent by the wizard. Bren closely watched the fast changing messages but he didn't forget to begin the dumping of the wet earth. The young boy's eyes remained open for a while, while his tired brain memorized exactly which way he had to walk to reach the place from where other people like him were going to carry the dug up soil somewhere in the forest, over the underground world. The young mountaineer's legs vigorously moved ahead though the boy was intent on the wonderful "dream", for that reason he didn't see anything else around. The elderly nobleman's "voice" sounded in some places and it explained some of the sent things: ‘This here is a thick, purifying glass, made by the possessors of the incredible abilities with the sole purpose that the dirty water passing through it can become limpid, without any harmful impurities that come with the life-giving fluid from the deep earth's womb.’ The picture before the infant warrior's sealed eyes changed with such one of a big, underground lake. ‘When you two with your father reach there, the magical installations will look like that, because the "masters" won't stop the turbid water stream under them with certainty. But it would be better if you do that to get over on the opposite side more easily. There are ten passages by the thick, magical glass and five of them practically are not used. The slaves who have stayed longer than us in the vaults, have dug a narrow tunnel in the wet, even ceiling of the second one from the left, through which the way to the fresh forest air is short. Now be very careful, my boy, Gliza will attract the attention of your supervisor on herself. The moment when she does that, you silently and fast go in whichever direction I showed you. I would like to embrace you in farewell so much!’ The end of the message came so suddenly as its beginning.

‘I will find the stone creatures, even if I have to do the most impossible things, uncle Alvin!’ sent the ten years old captive his thoughts to the incredible wizard, but then there was no answer, therefore Bren became very sad that he couldn't say good-bye to the possessor of the Magic even by the magical way.

“Our overlord! This instrument is too fragile, I must get a new one from somewhere.” Gliza had come quite near to the Brown face, who forgot his beautiful queen for the present, and she held the metal part of the appliance for digging that was broken in two.

The Conqueror gave the young lass a leer, before he sent her to the fire where many of the things, similar to picks, lay about. Only that as though ants were creeping under the shining armour of the complacent warrior at the following moment. The lad, the little wretch who before a moment had carried the jar full of black soil, was nowhere to be seen. The Warlike flew into a rage, brandished his whip, though the lashes on the exhausted bodies didn't help with anything, as nobody said which way the infant boy had run away. The chiefer ones of the Great people were able to throw out of the cosy vaults each one of their subordinates for such an offence, therefore the Brown face, scared to death, gave the alarm right away.

As a matter of fact Bren had only just entered one of the tunnels Alvin had showed for a beginning of the desperate escape, so his heart leapt to burst. The chains limiting the arms and legs' movements encumbered the infant slave too much, and the son of the best nobleman in the battle art shuddered all over at the bare thought how fast he would be captured. But yet the ten years old warrior went on ahead as far as the chains let him do it, in the semi-darkness of that passage, lighted up by torches, hung on the cold walls in some spots. Just then the huge Ambigat turned up out of nowhere from another underground tunnel which crossed these vaults where Bren was walking, and he was conducted by two guards, armed cap-a-pie. Once the smith of swords saw the boy who was startled by the meeting, he wound the neck of one of the Warlikes by the metal chains tightening his tough wrists, then hard kicked out the other one in the temple by his left leg. The shining helmet caved in by that blow and the ugly Brown face wearing it, fell down lifeless on the cold, stone floor. Before Bren could say knife the second warrior with brown skin was lying suffocated quite near by the first monster.

A warm wave of hope arose in the boy who sighed with great relief. Meanwhile his father set free the infant mountaineer from the heavy shackles by four jerks.

“Go ahead, my son!” whispered the huge man. “I'll get up with you to help you at the coming out.”

The young warrior nodded without saying a word and lightly began running toward the lake that had been shown by the wizard. And quite soon the tired young captive heard the quiet clank from Ambigat's shackles behind his back. The master of swords was dragging the two dead Brown faces after himself as if he was holding night fruit in his strong hands, not Warlikes dressed in armours.

“Don't stop, my boy,” said the burly smith. “I hear that many evil Conquerors have gone in quest of us, therefore we mustn't waste any second. If I remember right your uncle Alvin's message, here is the turn near that the magical glass was.”

“That's right, dad.” rejoiced the infant fugitive as the unruffled surface of the underground water shone before his eyes. “We must push down the releasing lever.”

His father dropped the lifeless dead bodies on the ground and then lightly moved down the long metal pole, set on a big rock on the left side. The mechanism stopping the wide stream began gurgling deep down them, after that the lake level visibly began to subside. And when almost half of the limpid liquid had disappeared with the river at the lower end of the purifying glass, the brawny Ambigat threw the two dead men near the place from where the water rushingly fell down to the earth s womb. The corpses were drifted by the fast stream almost instantly.

“We cannot wait any longer.” uttered the huge master of light swords impatiently and taking his son by the hand he went down the steep, wet slope that formed the sides of the lake tumbler.

The wonder-working bed of the underground basin was still covered with a water coating, reaching the fugitives' ankles. But the wet surface under their feet didn't prevent the mountaineers at all from sliding very fast on the smooth, purifying material as many times they had done it on their lake that had been frozen over in the winter high in their former lands.

The chasers' low voices were wafted from the tunnel where before a moment the burly warrior, without much thinking, had dragged the awful Brown faces' bodies, so therefore Ambigat and Bren hurried up to double their efforts. The glass, on which they were, had width about fifty yards that was why the distance to the life-saving, second passage on the opposite stone wall wasn't short. The escaped captives were hardly half-way through their way on the transparent magical product and three ugly, fuming Brown faces appeared behind them. After short exchange of strong language one of the armoured, awful warriors remained up on the not very high height near by the exit of the underground tunnel, preparing his supple bow for shooting. The other warriors of the Great people took off their heavy armours in a hurry and firmly set feet on the slippery, transparent bed, gloatingly rubbing their hands, with shining swords, pulled out of the sheathes, to run down the escaped "wretches".

“It would be better if we take the small little animal dead by our overlord's feet.” shouted Oan drawing the masterfully twisted bow-string and aimed at the burly smith's thigh. “We have to capture alive only that water rat by him.”

Long ago Ambigat had pushed out his young son before himself, as now he was sliding to the side, carefully watching the few chasers' horrible actions. In that way the burly mountaineer with ease could dodge the bolts, sent by the Brown face's perfectly trained hand, and he was able to protect the ten years old Bren from awful death too. Two of the whistling wooden sticks with sharp, metal gads at the end, were even very deftly broken in two by the huge warrior's strong palm.

The bowman angrily threw aside the useless now bow as he didn't have anything to shoot with, while the two mountaineers went up the sloping wall of the dried up lake, right under the second passage. The master of light weapons grabbed a ribbed, hard stone on the way there, that fitted very close in his hollow of the hand, whereupon he saw with the end of his watchful eye where Oan was, so turning back sharply, flung the big, heavy piece. The Conqueror on the opposite side of the magical glass was angry enough in order not to pay any attention to what the strong fugitive was doing. At the following moment something so hard hit on the brown forehead that leader of the sinister detachment, that had captured the fifty noble people, that he collapsed stiff and stark on the ground.

The rest of the two chasers were much surprose at "the miserable water rat's" accuracy, but not for long. The Brown faces hastened to rush forward with furious insults, addressed to the "awful wretches who actually don't know their place".

“Set the water flowing, my son!” said Ambigat quite calmly and then ducked down to dodge the blade that was aimed right at his neck

As the huge smith was bent double, he hard pulled the legs of the Warlike trying to finish him off, then turned the ugly Conqueror over himself gripping the ankles protected by metal shoes. The live weapon in the mountaineer's hands served him very well, because the Brown faces lost consciousness, after their heads met each other, at least for the next fifteen minutes.

Bren didn't forget to push down the metal tiller, the same as the releasing pole near that Oan was lying without budging an inch, therefore the underground lake began to fill fast. His incredible father hurled the two chasers far away by the beginning of the swift-flowing river then, with a grim smile, conducted the young warrior in the tunnel where his salvation was. There weren't burning torches here between the walls that were built near one by the other, only the light from the side of the pure water was enough so that they might discern the small hole on the wet ceiling, that had been dug up by tremendous efforts. The huge smith sighed with relief, clearing the soil round the cramped passage, because otherwise the infant fugitive would be embarrassed at the leaving of the dark vaults.

“I hope that you won't ask me any more when we'll come back in our mountain village, when nothing has befallen anybody of us, will you, my son?” Ambigat squated by the young brave man and took his hands in his own huge palms.

“Forgive me, dad when I was angry about that I did not guess what would happen at all,” said the ten years old warrior quietly.

“Unfortunately I ignored the enemies' qualities too.” uttered the master of weapons sorrowfully. “The Brown faces' awful king was absolutely right that your proficient in the art of fighting father, who used to be one of the leaders, failed forever despite all our travelling in the seaside and mountain lands.” the huge man began weeping as a young child before Bren's astounded eyes.

“Don't talk like that.” sobbed the infant captive, holding tight the unhappy mountaineer in his arms. “You fight best of all that I know and perhaps there is no enemy worthy of your steel amongst the warriors all over the earth. Your leadership of the last free noblemen couldn't be wiser therefore nobody could charge our capture against you.”

“Thank you, my boy, but believe me I really ought to have been smarter.” replied Ambigat sadly, mopping the suddenly gushed tears in his dirty face. “What an awful end for our existence! You shouldn't be slow any longer my son, because you are the last hope of the only human race that masters the Magic!” the burly smith sharply stood up, although his eyes were still liquid, and lifted the infant fugitive with his stretched arms. “Neither I nor your uncle Alvin, nor anyone else can tell you where you have to seek the rock pieces. It is necessary that you should cope with that by yourself. The remained thoughts in your mother's exhausted mind were very eloquent, therefore only such a man like you would manage to discover our so long awaited salvation. Abide by the knowledge that you've got and be very cautious, but when you see the sunlight, run as faster as you can do it so that you might move away to a greater distance from here.”

Bren nimbly climbed up the vertical tunnel, wondering how the slave, who had hollowed it out, had been able to make stairs in the wall. The unknown master had attached a big iron brace right by the round trap-door, that obstructed the sunbeams in the other end of the life-saving passage where anyone, without any difficulty and set feet well on the brace, could remove the small pieces of quite useless now sabres, that were intertwined in the form of a circle.

“If I don't do what is required from me, I will come back to die together with you, dad,” said the young fugitive firmly before he disappeared from the dark vaults. “I should like very much if we two could be one beside the other outside.” uttered the boy quietly after that.

“It is impossible, my son.” explained the huge warrior gloomily. “Many people will be injured at the sudden disappearing of both of us, as for the exit, it is too narrow for a body like mine. I must stay where I am in order to try to lie the chief "master" somehow.”

“Then hurry up to hurl Oan in the underground lake!” sighed the boy.

“Yes, that would be done very cunningly,” said Ambigat cheerlessly, coming back to the limpid water. “Goodbye, Bren! Don't forget to be careful!”

“Goodbye, dad!” the infant mountaineer's lips opened with difficulty, uttering those parting words.

With eyes dim by the tears, the boy who had got free, pressed the metal round trap-door so hard as he could. The suddenly rushed in, bright sunbeams restored the courage in the ten years old Bren, so he jumped out, without being slow any more, in the middle of a blooming, green glade. ‘Whatever may happen, I will come back with thousands of the stone creatures!’ said the master-smith's son firmly to himself, whereupon he began running as fast as he could to the heavenly body, that began to go in the west.

 

Author's Note

let me know where I have to do something about the grammar, punctuation, sturctural errors, etc...

Reviews

[Poeticpiers]

i liked the concept ivan. your desriptive powers are good as is your treatment of characters

[David Lucero]

Ivan, I liked it! Reminded me of a type of Lord of the Rings, which is what I'm guessing you were trying for, but in your own words of course. The book store I'm having my signing at focuses on your type of stories mostly. My son reads this type of book. Your characterizations are good and detailed. I could envision what you wrote about. I'm more of the political thriller, but your words kept me glued! You're onto something. I look forward to reading more.