Chapter 7 Chapter Seven Prisoners

Borric woke up. He lay motionless, his ears filled with groans all the time.For a moment, half asleep, he heard someone calling his name. He sat up, blinking and looking around.Most of the captives gather around the campfire, hoping that the flame will bring them warmth and dispel the shadows in their souls.He lay as far away from the stinking ditch as possible, across from the group of slaves.As he moved, he was reminded of this bondage by the xings on his wrists, strange silver xings that repelled all magic from him.Borric shuddered, aware of the coldness of the desert night.His robe was taken from him, as was his shirt, leaving him only a pair of trousers.He walked towards the campfire, both by chance and on purpose, when two captives who would not give way stood in his way.But they had given up fighting, and Borric pushed the two slaves away without a second thought, and the latter responded with a few snarls or muttered curses.

He squeezed between the other two and sat down.The latter tries to ignore his penetration as much as possible, and everyone is heading towards the disaster of their own lives. With a scream, a female prisoner was executed.She died by resisting the humiliation, biting the artery in the neck of the guard who was trampling her, killing both of them.In order to reduce the pain of that short-lived person, someone ended his life neatly. A hellish cry followed that scream, and Borric thought death might be luckier for her.He doubted whether any woman would make it to Deben alive.In order to avoid possible troubles in the next few days, the slave trader handed over the women to the guards.Even if someone survived the trip, she would be sold as cheap as a fire girl.They were neither young nor attractive enough for a slaver to bother stopping the guards.

Just thinking of the slave owner, I saw him appearing near the campfire.His figure appeared even taller under the reflection of the golden firelight.Satisfied with all this, he turned and walked towards his tent.Kasim, Borric heard him being called that.He firmly remembered this face, and he was sure that one day he would kill him with his own hands. As Kasim was walking away from the guarded slaves, another man approached calling his name.The man was Thalaya, and he wore the purple robe Borric had won two days before.When Borric was first brought to the camp, he had taken a fancy to the robe Borric was wearing, and without hesitation the Prince forced him to take off the robe with his fist.In fact it was the gauntlet that Borric was wearing that prevented him from removing the robe quickly.Kasim intervened after Borric was beaten the second time, pointing out the obvious reason for that.Only in this way did Salaya calm down reluctantly, and let Borric take off the robe one sleeve at a time.He believed that all the faults were Borric's, and he didn't think that there was something wrong with his pig's brain.Borric had marked him for death, too.Kasim gave him a few instructions, which he listened to in a nonchalant manner.Then the slave trader made his way to where the horses were tied.More slaves would be brought to the caravan, Borric thought.

Many times throughout the day, Borric considered identifying himself, but each time he felt he should be more careful.There was no chance of anyone believing what he said.He didn't carry his seal, and he didn't feel comfortable carrying it with him every time he rode, so it was now locked in his luggage, and the trunk was not picked up by the robbers.Of course red hair might give the bandits pause to consider the possibility of his identity, but a redhead wasn't unique in Krondor either.Brown hair and fair skin are common in Yabon and Far Bay. Coast) The appearance of the nearby residents, but there are quite a few citizens in Krondor City whose hair color is a mixture of red and brown.Just proving he wasn't a mage would take him a lot of trouble, because a non-magic person and a person pretending to be non-magic are the same outwardly.

Borric decided that from here to Deben he would wait until he found someone who might believe in his identity.He figured that Qasim or someone on his staff—unless they were all as smart as Thalaya—would understand or believe him.But someone with such a mind must become the leader here.In this way he can redeem himself. It made him feel better to think about it, and Borric pushed a half-sleeping captive away so he could lie down again.The wind was blowing on his head, making him toss and turn so that he could not sleep.He closed his eyes, loathing the uneven ground beneath him.After a while sleep finally took away all the discomfort.

Like the angry god of fire, Prandus, the sun seemed to be hanging close to his head, burning his skin.Borric's face and hands had only been lightly sunburned by his side, and the scorching sun had left him weak to the point of weakness.The blisters on Borric's back burst during the next day's journey, and the hot sun shone on his wounds, making him dizzy.After only two days of walking he had had enough, and the convoy left the gravel highlands for the desert known locally as the ergs of the Jal-Pur.The five carriages moved slowly, and someone had to constantly pad things behind the wheels so as not to sink into the sand, and it was the captives who were slowly killed by the sun who were doing these jobs.

Three people died yesterday.Thalaya did nothing about it; only healthy, strong workers were needed in the Deben City slave market.Kasim hadn't come back yet, and the man acting as the leader of the convoy was a sadistic pig with a perverted disease, Borric thought so when he first saw him.Water was restricted three times a day, once before sunrise, once during the mid-day break, and once at dinner—no, the only meal of the day.A piece of dry bread, which is almost tasteless, hardly replenishes one's strength.He fancied that there would be raisins in the bread; but there was no need to look.Food is just there to keep him alive, no matter how bad it tastes.

The slaves became dull, and everyone's footsteps gradually slowed down.Spirits also become depressed, and everyone is silent; talking wastes their strength.But Borric still inquired about their parentage from several people.The guard had let down his guard since he entered the desert; but even if a slave escaped, where would he go?The whole desert is the most reliable guard.When they arrived in Deben, they were given a few days' rest, their chapped feet and sun-burned skin healed, their weight regained, and they were sold on the shelves.A slave who has just returned from a trip cannot be sold for a good price.

Borric tried to think about his affairs, but the sun and heat had weakened him, and the lack of food and water had dulled his mind.He shook his head trying to focus on how to escape, but all he could control was stepping out with his feet, left, then right, lifting them up and putting them forward, over and over again, until can stop. Then the sun disappears and night comes.The slaves were allowed to sit in front of the campfire and listen to the jousting between the guards and the five remaining female captives.They no longer struggle and cry for a long time.Borric chewed his dry bread and sipped his ration of water.On the first night in the desert, a man drank his water in one gulp and vomited it all up a few minutes later.The next day he died.Borric learned his lesson from that man.No matter how much he wished he could gulp down the water in his glass—horse piss appealed to him when he was thirsty—he controlled himself to drink slowly.Falling asleep quickly, that tired, dreamless sleep, but not really resting.Every time he turned over, the burns on his body would wake him up painfully.If he turned his back to the fire, the wound on his back would worsen from the flames; but if he stayed away from the fire, the desert cold would freeze him to death.But whatever the discomfort and tiredness got over them, until he rolled over again to feel the discomfort.Suddenly, spear thrusts and kicks woke Borric and the other slaves.

A cool morning, but the moist air of the night looked more like a magnifying glass in the sun, bringing out Purando's torment.Within an hour, the two fell and stayed where they fell. Borric's mind was beyond thought, only an animal instinct, a cunning and vicious beast that denied death.He tried his best to do one thing without falling down.To fall is to die. After a moment of numb marching, a hand caught him. "Stop going," a voice ordered. Borric blinked, and through the blinding flash he saw a face.A flat face with sharp edges and pimples, a black complexion and a curly beard.It was the ugliest face Borric had ever seen.It can be disgusted openly.

Borric began to smirk, but all he could get out of his throat was a thirsty gasp. "Sit down," the guard said, and a sudden, rough push helped Borric sit on the ground. "Now it's the noon break." Looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to him, he unscrewed his kettle and poured water into his hands. "You northerners can't stand the sun like this." He sprinkled water on Borric's head, cooling his steaming head slightly. "Too many people have fallen; Kasim will not be happy." He quickly poured some more water for the prince, and walked away as if nothing had happened between them. The other guards yelled and brought kettles and cups, and began to dispense water.Every slave who could speak was complaining of thirst, as if they would be ignored if they kept quiet. Borric could barely move, and every move was accompanied by yellow, white, and red flashes in his eyes. Not yet but nearly blind, he reached for his metal mug.The water was hot and bitter, but sweeter than the best Natalese that Borric had ever tasted.He took a sip of the wine, held it in his mouth like his father taught him, let the black liquid flow on his tongue, and identified the precise and complex ingredients of the wine.The taste of the wine is not bitter, maybe the winemaker put the stems or leaves of some kind of plant in the barrel, and he will try his best to make the wine ferment properly before barreling.But maybe that's just a blemish in a masterpiece.Borric didn't recognize the wine; there was a lack of recognizable main and accompaniment ingredients, and there was no fruit to counteract the sourness in the wine.This is not a good wine.Borric suspected it was a test his father had done to see if he and Elland were listening. Borric blinked his cracked eyes, he couldn't find the trash can.Where can he spit wine without a trash can?He can't drink, he's just a kid, he can get drunk.Maybe turning around and spitting the wine on the table won't be noticed. "Hey!" cried one, "that slave spit out his water." Several hands snatched the cup from him, and Borric lay back.He lay in the hall where his father dined, wondering why the floor was hot.These stones are supposed to be cold, and they always are.How did they get so hot? Several hands helped Borric to sit up, and others held him to keep him from falling again. "What are you doing? Do you want to die of thirst without drinking water?" Borric squinted his eyes and saw a blurry face. Weak, he murmured, "I can't name the wine, father." "He's delirious," said the voice.Someone lifted him up, and he was put in a shady place.Water splashed on his head, then down his neck, then his wrists, then his arms.Another man's voice sounded next to him, "Heaven and hell should curse you, Saraya, your mind is not as good as a cat that has been dead for three days. If I hadn't rode over here to see it, you would have let this People die, don't they?" Borric felt water rush into his mouth, and he gulped.This is not the bitter water, but the really cool stream.He drank. Salaya replied, "Weak people are of no use to us. Letting them die on the road will save them money for food." "You fool," said the man just now, "what a slave! Look at him. He's young, not yet twenty. I know my business, he's not ugly, he's healthy— At least a few days ago." The man's voice sounded disgusting. "Those northerners with fair skin can't stand the sun like us in Zap. He needs a little more water and shade to be suitable for shelf. Now. I have to keep him for two weeks to let his heal. and restore his strength." "boss--" "Shut up. Leave him in the car while I check on the other slaves. If I'd caught them in time, more people would have survived here. I don't know what fate befell Kasim , but I really should say sorry to the guild for choosing you to stay." Borric found the change strange.What happened to that bottle of wine?As he lay in the relative cool of the caravan contemplating the bottle of wine, a slave guild boss was a few steps away checking on the other slaves, and those who lived a day could be taken into the slave cells. "Deben City." Saman said.A smile cracked his dark face.He drove the last wagon of the convoy, with Borric in it.Two days of recuperation in the caravan brought Borric back from the brink of death.He and three other slaves were lying in the rear car.Water was readily available, and the skin was coated with oils and herbal ointments, which kept the pain of their burns to a minimum. Borric knelt, then staggered to his feet, the wagon bouncing on the stone road.He didn't see anything remarkable about the city, except that there was more green around it than in the sand.They passed several small farms in half a day.He remembered what he had learned as a child about a heinous pirate stronghold. Deben ruled over only a few farms from the Valley of Dreams to the foot of the Troll Home Mountains, and she was also a safe haven on the route from Land's End to Ranom.The treacherous reefs of the southern coast of the Sea of ​​Misery await those unfortunate enough to be thrown atop the waves by the northern winds.In addition, privateers, pirates, lore hunters and slave traders all called Durben home. Borric nodded to Saman.The jovial bandit was both friendly and chatty with him. "I've lived here since I was born," he said. "My father was born here too." When the desert people conquered the city of Deben hundreds of years ago, they found their trade gate facing the sea of ​​misery, and when the empire conquered these desert people, Deben was the capital of the desert people at that time.Now she is a major administrative city in the empire, but none of this will change anything, Deben is still the same Deben. "Tell me," Borric asked, "do the three guilds still control Deben City?" Saman smiled. "What an educated fellow you are! Few outsiders know this. The Slave Traders Guild, the Pirates Guild, and the Coast Captains' Union. Three guilds run the power here. They decide who dies and lives, who works and who Enjoy." He shrugged. "It's like a convention. It was like this before the Empire, it was like this before the Deserters, it's always been like this." Thinking of the influence of the Krondor Thieves Guild's deceivers in the city, he asked, "What about those thieves and beggars? Don't they have much power?" "Drink!" Salman replied. "Deben is the most honest city in the world, educated friends. We who live here can stay open at night and travel safely. Whoever steals in Deben is a fool, and within a few days he will be killed or demoted For slaves. The three major guilds issued a notice, who dares to challenge their wisdom? I am sure I will not. It must be like this, Deben is helpless in the desert and on the reef." Borric patted Saman on the shoulder lightly, then sat back in the back of the caravan.He was the youngest of the four patients and the fastest to recover.The other three are farmers, and none have shown signs of recovery.Heart disease robs a man of strength more easily than disease, Borric thought. He drank some water, marveling at the first sea breeze that blew through the gate of Deben City after they stepped on the road in front of the gate.One of his father's advisors, Ammons Trask, had taught him and Elland how to sail.He had been a privateer in his youth, sweeping ships from the Free Cities, Queeg, and the Kingdom with the Dagger of the Sea, the alias of Trichard.He is well known in the Coast Captains League.But when he told the legends of those seas, he said nothing about those smooth captains.Still, someone will remember Captain Trichard, and do him a favor in Borric's shoes. Borric has decided to keep his identity a secret.Without doubting that the slave trader would send his father a ransom note, he considered it advisable to avoid such complicated negotiations as much as possible.In this way, he will stay in prison for a few more days, wait for his strength to recover, and then escape.Compared with the horror of the desert, a small boat in the port will be a key tool for him to escape here.Here to get to Locklear's father's city, the Land's End, is about 500 miles upwind, but it should be doable. The 19-year-old was so confident he could pull off the feat, he had no idea what it would mean if he failed.His captivity would be over, nothing else. The slaves' cells were covered with shingles, protecting them from the scorching midday sun and the storms of the Sea of ​​Misery.But the wooden planks of the fence on all sides are spaced so that the guards can monitor the people inside.A healthy man could easily scale a ten-foot fence, but when he climbed to the top and then crawled over the beams supporting the cell, the guards would have plenty of time to wait for him to do so. Borric considered his condition.When he is sold, his new owner may be a slack guy, but maybe a demanding one.His logic told him that he should not start his escape until he was near the port.His master might have been a merchant from Queeg, or a traveler from the Free Cities, or even a nobleman of the kingdom.Worst of all, he was sold into the interior of the empire.He is not very optimistic about the fate he will face. He also had a plan to team up with the other slaves, and if he could manage to keep them distracted from the guards long enough, he would have a chance to climb over the fence and escape into the city.Borric shook his head, dismissing the idea as impractical. "噗嗞!" (pssst is an onomatopoeia, which is sometimes used by foreigners when reminding people to pay attention,——not a fart sound) Borric turned to see where the strange noise was coming from.But finding nothing, he turned back and continued to consider his important escape plan. "Puff! Here, young nobleman." Borric looked around again, this time looking down a little, and saw a vague figure standing in the shadows. A boy, not more than eleven or twelve years old, was standing by a pillar supporting the roof of the cell, grinning at him.If he moved a little further, he would be spotted by the guards. Borric glanced around and saw two guards chatting in a corner. "What's the matter?" he asked in a low voice. "Can you attract the attention of the guards, Mr. Noble, I will let you live longer." The boy replied in a low voice. Borric asked, "Why?" "I need their attention, sir." Resisting the nonsense that he would throw his fist back, Borric nodded.Walking up to where the guard was standing, he asked, "Hey! When are we eating?" Two guards blinked in confusion, followed by a growl.He drove the butt of his spear into the bars of the cell, and Borric had to dodge his club. "Sorry for asking that," he said. He chuckled, trying to keep his shoulders from dangling under his shirt.The sunburn healed within three days of getting the shirt, but the peeling and subsequent itching made him doubly uncomfortable.The next slave auction was next week, and he knew he would be on the shelves by then.He is rapidly regaining his strength. Someone tugged on his sleeve, and he turned to see the boy just now. "What are you doing here?" he asked. The boy's expression was full of doubts, "Sir, what do you mean...?" "I think you're trying to escape this cell." Borric lowered his voice. The boy smiled. "No, young nobleman, noble you distracted the guards so I could enter the cell." Borric sighed to the sky, "There are two hundred slaves who are always dreaming of finding a way to escape from the cell, and I have a madman who wants to come in happily! Why?" The boy also looked up, "Which god are you talking to?" "All of them, look, what happened to this?" The boy took his arm and led him to the middle of the cell, where the guards would not notice at least, "This matter is complicated, my lord." "Then why do you call me 'Sir'?" A lovable smile bloomed on the boy's face.A small face tanned by the sun, with only a little blush remaining on the cheeks.Borric could see those dark eyes that made him laugh out of their crowded sockets.An oversized turban was wrapped around his head, and his matted hair added to his height. The boy bowed slightly, "Compared to my humble status, everyone else is prominent, my lord, they all deserve my respect. Even those stupid pig guards." Borric couldn't help smiling at the little fellow. "Well, then tell me why you come among these intelligent people, and do you wish to join this miserable company?" The boy sat down where he was, and beckoned Borric to do the same. "My name is Su Li Abu, sir.I am a vagrant beggar, and I admit that I am ashamed that I was forced to flee here because of the punishment of the three guilds.Do you know the three guilds? Borric nodded. "Then you also know their incredible power and their influence."I saw an old merchant sleeping in the midday sun.Several coins fell out of his purse.Did I have time to wait until he woke up and picked up his coins, so I figured I'd just found some dropped coins and it wouldn't do me any harm to pick them up.But can't believe God made this guy notice he dropped things and I was picking them up.Like Lady Luck doomed me, he woke up at the worst possible time and yelled around, 'There's a thief! ’ A guy recognized me and called out my name, so I was stalked.Now I am wanted by the three major guilds.What better place to hide and not be seen than here? " Borric froze, forgetting how to answer the question.He shook his head and asked, "Tell me, what will you do when we're sold nine days from now?" Laughing loudly, the boy said, "At that time, my lord, I would have already left." "Where are you going, then?" Borric asked, narrowing his eyes. "Go back to the city, sir. My crime is very minor, and the three major guilds have a lot of noteworthy matters to deal with. Many major key issues are being decided in the governor's mansion, or announced on the street. Many officials of the three major guilds also Come and go like a royal embassy. Anyway, after a few days, the person in charge of searching me will be busy with other things, and I will return to the city safely to continue my craft." Borric shook his head. "Can you get out as easily as you came in?" The boy shrugged. "Maybe. There are too many uncertainties in life. I think I can. If not, it's fate." Borric grabbed the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, "Then, my trading partner, let's do business, I'll help you in, and you help me out.", The boy's little black face turned pale. "Boss," he said, barely able to open his mouth, "if you were as nimble as I am, I could plan to escape this cell with you, but you're built like a warrior, and you've got that shackle in your hand. " "You mean you can help me remove this?" "How could I?" The boy was frightened. "You can't? Then what kind of thief are you?" The boy shook his head in disapproval, "If you're telling the truth, a poor thief, boss. Only a mental retardation would steal in Deben City, so I'm also a fool. My stealing behavior is purely out of my lowest survival instinct, I swear to my mother's soul in heaven, I tried to steal for the first time." Patting the boy on the head, Borric said, "Just what I want—an unqualified thief. I could pick the lock myself if I had a needle." He took a breath so that the boy wouldn't be more afraid of him. "I need a strong iron wire, this long. A nail will do." He measured the length with his thumb and middle finger, two inches in length, which was difficult to do while wearing a shackle. "I can get you one, boss." "Okay," Borric said, letting go of the boy.The moment he let go, the boy turned to run away, but Borric had anticipated the boy's action, and Borric tripped the little beggar.Before he could struggle to his feet, Borric grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up. "You put on a good show." Borric nodded, pointing to a guard who was not far away. "I know what you want to do, kid. Don't try to escape from my grasp. If I'm pushed in a week from now Auction, I'm not going alone. You need to give me a reason not to turn you over to the guards. Do you understand?" "Yes, boss!" whispered the boy, completely flustered now.Borric said, "I know you, boy. There was a man who was my teacher, and he and you are like you and the fleas in your shirt. Do you believe it?" Suli nodded, reluctantly Borric said, "If you want to betray me or run away, I'm sure I won't be alone on the shelf. We're tied together, you understand?" The boy nodded, and Borric saw that This time the boy didn't just want to be free but realized that if he left Borric he would really turn him over to the guards.Borui let him go, and the boy fell heavily to the ground.This time he didn't try to escape, but just sat on the ground with fear and hopelessness on his face. "O merciful Lord, I beg you to forgive my folly. Why, oh, why did you abandon me to such a mad nobleman?" Borric got down on one knee. "Are you saying you can get me a wire, or are you just lying to me?" The boy shook his head. "I can get it." He stood up, telling Borric to follow him. Borric followed him to the fence.The boy turned his back on the guards so they wouldn't see his face when they looked over.Pointing to those wooden boards, the boy said, "Some of these boards are warped, check to see if there is anything you want." Borric, too, was leaning against the fence with his back to the guard, watching the planks out of the corner of his eye.A little bit below, there is a board that is slightly bent outwards, and an iron nail is pushed out from above.He felt the heads of iron nails dig into his shoulders. Borric turned suddenly and pushed Suli, and the boy crashed against the fence.Then the boy intentionally leaned against the fence.Borric pried the nails with his shackles. "Bless me not to bend it," he whispered to himself.Then with a sudden force, the nail was pulled out. Bending down to pick up the nail, he took his trophy to an unnoticed corner.He looked around, but no one noticed his strange behavior. With little effort, one handcuff was released, and then the whole handcuff.He quickly rubbed his bruised wrist, and immediately put the torture device back on his hand. "What are you doing?" the little beggar asked in a low voice. "If the guards see that I'm not handcuffed, they'll come and check. I'm just seeing how hard it is to remove them. Obviously, it's not that hard." "Where did a nobleman like you learn all this?" the boy asked. Borric smiled. "One of my teachers had a... rich and colorful childhood. He taught all the standard courses to—" He almost said "prince", but he changed it to "a son of a nobleman" in time. "Ha!" cried the boy, "then you're a nobleman. I think you are from your speech." "My speech?" Borric asked. "You speak like an aristocrat. And you sound like someone from a good family, even a court." Borric thought. "Let's change that. If we're going to spend some time hiding in cities, I'm going to have to be like a normal civilian." The boy sat down. "I will teach you." He saw Borric's handcuffs. "Why should a son of a nobleman be punished?" "They think I'm a mage." The boy's eyes widened. "Then why didn't they kill you? Imprisoning a mage is the hardest thing. Even a small mage can make someone they don't like grow tumors." Borric laughed. "I almost convinced them I was just a poor governess." "Then why didn't they remove the handcuffs?" "I almost convinced them." The boy giggled, "Then where are we going, boss?" "To the port, I plan to steal a boat and escape to the kingdom." The boy nodded approvingly, "That's a great plan. I'll be your servant, my lord. Your father will give me a lot of money for helping his son escape hell and the executioner." Borric couldn't help laughing. "You're flattering me now." The boy's eyes flashed. "This is the basic skill of a beggar's survival, my great master. Simple begging can only get punches and kicks from the hands of well-meaning people, but no handouts. But a well-crafted curse can threaten them, and from them Get presents." "If I say, 'Make your wife ugly', it will only give a passing merchant a moment's hesitation. But if I say, 'Make your mistress like your wife, and you The same goes for the daughters of my daughters!' and he will give me some coppers to take back these ominous words, and if his daughters look like his wives he will not be able to find a husband for them, and he will lose his lover as well. interest." Borric laughed at him. "Do you have a curse that scares people so much?" The boy smiled. "Who can tell? But who would try these curses to save a few coppers?" Borric sat down too. "I can share my food with you. But I must get out of here before they put me up in the auction." "Then they'll sound the alarm and search you." Borric smiled and said, "That's exactly what I want them to do." Borric ate ​​his half of the supper, then passed the plate to the boy.Su Li devoured the food hungrily, and then licked the plate clean. For seven days they divided Borric's rations equally, and there was always plenty of food when they were hungry.The slaves will face their future fate at the auction.They should have neither dark circles nor thin cheekbones, nor a shrunken body shape, which will affect their price, and food will change this. If anyone in the cell noticed the new boy, they didn't question it.No one wants to talk, everyone loses the ability to think, and even trivial things are misinterpreted.Why remind these guards like friends that you never want to see again in your life? Lowering his voice so no one could overhear them, Borric said, "We must escape before daylight." The boy nodded, but then asked, "I don't understand." For seven days he managed to hide among the slaves. Among them, he was not seen through when counting the heads.Maybe he was spotted once or twice, but the guards wouldn't check the slaves for extra heads, maybe someone was counted twice.They become suspicious only when there are few people. "I need them to be as chaotic as possible when they search us. But I hope most of the guards will be back for their auction tomorrow. Do you understand?" The boy showed no sign of understanding, "No, boss." It took Borric a week to rack the boy's head to learn every bit of information he needed about the city, and what was going on around the slave guild. "Crossing this fence is the street leading to the port." Borric said, and Suli nodded in agreement. "Within a few minutes, a dozen guards will be chasing down this street and catching us before we can steal a boat and get off to Quaig or wherever. Won't we?" The boy nods.This is a logical assumption. "No one in their right mind would venture into the desert, would they?" "of course." "Then let's go to the desert." "Boss! We're going to die." Borric said, "I didn't say we were going to the desert, we were just going there and finding a place to hide." “但藏在哪，老板？从这到沙漠中间只是有钱有势人的房屋，而且兵营设就在总督的住宅里。” 博瑞克咧嘴笑了。 男孩睁大了双眼。“喔，愿神保佑我们，老板，你不会是说……” 博瑞克说，“当然。有个地方是他们决对不会去搜查的。” “喔，好心的老板，你正在和你可怜的仆人开玩笑吧。” “别看起来那么垂头丧气的，苏力。”博瑞克边说边打量四周，没有人注意他俩。“是你让我想到这个主意的。” “我，老板？我从没有说过要把我们移交给总督府。” “是，但要不是你会试图藏在奴隶牢房逃过追捕，我也不会想到这个主意。” 博瑞克脱下手铐，指示男孩站在那里。在牢房远端的守卫正在游戏，只有了一个人半打着瞌睡负责警戒。博瑞克向上指了指，男孩点了下头。博瑞克脱掉外套，只穿了一条裤衩，用双手合成个杯形。男孩一脚蹬在博瑞克手上，半举半抛把男孩送到了牢房的横梁上。男孩敏捷的移动到了离赌博的守卫最远的屋角，那里的只有一个在打盹的守卫。 迟疑和任何的响动都会导致他们的失败，博瑞克屏着呼吸看完苏力潜行到远角的全部过程。然后他在栅栏上攀了几步，抓住苏力从大梁上垂下的外套。用力拽了两下，他攀上了栅栏顶，在睡觉的守卫身边探出身子。苏力也从横梁上垂下身子，几乎是直接悬在守卫的头上。 配合默契，当博瑞克轮起手铐时苏力摘掉了守卫的金属头盔。铁块重创了守卫的脑袋，他颓然倒下。 没有去看是否有人注意到他们——如果有另一个守卫发觉了，他们会彻底崩溃在那里——博瑞克跳了一下抓住挂着的外套。 他借助外套爬到横梁上，稍微调整了一下呼吸，然后指示苏力继续。男孩蜷起身子，无声的走在横梁上，这是整个屋顶的长度。博瑞克跟着他，考虑到自己的体型，他是用手和膝盖爬行在轻盈的男孩身后。 从头顶上通过正在赌博的守卫，然后潜入阴影中。在最远端的宅邸，他们跳上最后一间牢房的屋顶，接着翻过那里的围墙，跌跌撞撞的摔在墙外面。如同身后尾随着整支德本城守备军，两人没命的向着总督府跑去。 博瑞克的计划像他设想的那样奏效了。在繁忙的德本城总督府中是一片混乱。许多人都在走动。一对走向厨房的奴隶引发不出任何议论。 十分钟内，警钟响了，许多城镇守卫跑上街头宣布有名奴隶逃走了。此时，博瑞克和苏力找到了迎宾处一个久未使用的阁楼。 苏力低声说，“你简直是个魔法师，大人。你是很特殊的那类，他们想不到你是哪种法师。没有人会想到搜查总督府。” 博瑞克点了点头。他伸出一个指头放在嘴边，告诉苏力保持安静，然后躺下开始睡觉。 兴奋中的男孩很难用双眼去相信这个青年能安稳的小憩。苏力太紧张、兴奋——还有害怕——而无法睡着。他看到屋顶上的一扇小窗，从那可以看到总督府门前的小路和这座建筑物的一些偏房。 观察了会儿一个走来走去的总督家眷，苏力开始探查这个小阁楼。在这里他可以轻松的站直身体，而博瑞克必须要弯腰才行。害怕会有人听到他的脚步声，他小心的走动在会是楼下房间大粱的地板上。 在阁楼的尽头，他发现了个机关门。把他的耳朵贴在上面，男孩没有听到门里有任何动静。他等了很长一段时间，至少他觉得过了相当长的一段时间，他小心的撬开暗门。里面的房间既暗又空。男孩轻轻的移开暗门，尽量不让一丝灰尘落入下面的房间中，然后他把头伸进里面。 一张近在咫尺的人脸让他几乎叫出声来。接着他的夜视线调整过来，他发现他正与一个雕像面面相觑。这是一个出自奎格的真人尺寸大小的大理石雕像。 男孩伸手扶着雕像的头走到下面的房间。他打量四周，很高兴的发现这里是个用于堆东西的仓库。在一个墙角，一堆布料的梭针下面，他找到了一把钝菜刀。想到即使拿着一把烂武器也比赤手空拳要强，他捡起那把菜刀，藏在身上。 尽可能的放轻脚步，他开始检查屋中的唯一一扇门。随即发现这扇门没有锁。他慢慢打开这扇门，从门缝中观察门里空旷黑暗的大厅。 然后他谨慎的走入大厅，缓慢的走到连接其它房间的弦厅，同样是漆黑一团。仔细的听了一会儿，他确定没有人使用这个总督宅邸的侧厅。他快速的检查了这里的房间，发现它们都被废弃了。绝大多数的房间都是空的，有一些房间中的摆设罩着帆布并设有陷阱。 骚着他的手臂，男孩看了看四周，觉得没有东西值得可拿。他决定返回那个阁楼去休息一下。 当他走到大厅远端正要离开时，他看到了一束光线，同时间一个愤怒的声音打破了这里的沉静。 经过一番搏斗，好奇心最终战胜了谨慎。男孩沿着大厅继续潜行，发现了一扇门，声音就是从门中传来的。男孩把他的耳朵贴在木门上，听到一个人正在大喊，“……蠢货！如果我们之前能得到消息，我们就会有准备了。” 一个镇静的声音接道，“那是意外。没有人意识到那个白痴瑞斯从拉夫那里带来的消息——一个疏于护卫的贵族队伍——意味着什么。” “不是贵族，”前一个声音说道，讲话的人已到了爆发的边缘，“他说的是'那是王子的队伍'。” “那么今晚逃走的奴隶就是王子了？” “博瑞克。幸运女神和我们玩了场游戏。他是我们抓到的唯一红头发的奴隶。” 那个镇静的声音说，“只要他活着火王就不会感到高兴的。杀死博瑞克，我们主人的任务就完成了，但如果让一个幸存的王子回到他的王国……” 那个怒气冲冲的人说，“那你必须确定这件事不会发生，并且在某种程度上，他的弟弟也一样得死。” 苏力试着从门上的破缝向里看，但什么也没有看到，然后他凑到了钥匙孔前。他只能看到一个人的后背和一只放在长桌上的手。接着坐在桌前的人先前探了下身子，苏力认出那人是德本城的总督大人。那个愤怒的声音是他的。“不能让这间房间之外的任何人知道逃走的奴隶是博瑞克王子。他想必还来不及向其他人证明自己的身份。放出消息，他在逃跑时杀死了一名守卫，下令对这个奴隶格杀勿论。” 那个镇静声音的人走动了，遮住了苏力的视线。男孩后退几步，害怕门会随后打开，但那个声音又说道，“从没有奴隶受到过这种斩立绝的格杀令，这需要一个对公众的解释。他们会把他带回牢房后处决，震慑其他那些企图逃跑的奴隶。” 总督说道，“我会和公会疏通。但这个目标决不能有任何讲话的机会。我们需要遮盖——”他话说了一半，“我希望拉夫和瑞斯能保持安静。” 苏力离开那扇门。博瑞克，他想。他的新主人是……克朗多亲王的儿子——来自康东印家族的王子。 他从没感到像现在这样害怕。这是一场龙虎斗，而自己则被夹在中间。他的眼泪伴随着他的疾走从脸上掉落，勉强想到要关上身后通往的大厅房门。 借助雕像他爬回阁楼，小心的将暗门放回原样。然后快走到躺着的王子身边，在他耳边低声呼唤道，“博瑞克？” 年轻人立刻就醒了，“什么事？” 边哭边说道，“喔，我伟大的主人，他们知道你是谁并且受命搜查你。他们想在别人知道你身份前除掉你。” 博瑞克眨眨眼，抓住男孩的肩膀问道，“谁知道我？” “总督和另一个人。我看不到他是谁。侧厅是总督与别人私下会面的地方。他们说的是今晚逃走一个红头发的奴隶，并且他们说道艾而王国的王子。你就是那个人。” 博瑞克轻声骂了一句，“但这改变不了什么。” “这改变了一切，主人。”男孩哭了，“他们不会停止对你的搜查，直到你被抓住为止。并且他们也会因为我知道了太多的事而杀了我。” 博瑞克看着惶恐的男孩感到自己也开始害怕起来。“那么我们就必须比他们做得更聪明，是吗？” 这个题问在他自己的耳中听起来都显得可怕。下一步该做什么，得知真相后的他举棋不定。