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Bulgarth slowly gained consciousness. He sat up and the chains on his hands and feet rattled. The smell and feel of the weight of a rusty iron collar and short chain around his neck made his cough. A large man approached. From the light of the torches, Bulgarth could see that he was dark-skin under the layers of dirt. He had a whip in his hand, yet his legs were chained. An armed guard spoke to the dark man, “Roth, this new boy here is to be taken to the lowest chamber. He is not allowed to come out from there. Make sure he works. We all expect an increase of ores from your side of the mine.” The man addressed as Roth asked, “He has been branded?” “This one will not have one.” Roth grunted - another disappearance - and he pulled the chain around Bulgarth’s neck to force him to stand on his feet. The man-boy looked strong, though his eyes were defiant and proud. Roth concluded that a few whippings would take the spirit from him. He nodded to the guard, he would take this one. He gave the chain another hard tug and led the young man into the mines. Crude ladders built haphazardly between layers of shafts led them ever deeper down into the tunnels. At the bottom of the ninth shaft, Roth shoved Bulgarth ahead of him. The young may stared in dismay at his new surroundings. Under the dim light he saw people of all ages, children and adults, some of whom were old and grey. Although their faces were blank, the burdens on their back showed their many sorrows. He counted five others like Roth with whips in their hands. Bulgarth felt a sharp pain on his back, another then another, until his feet buckled under him and he fell down on all fours. Roth spoke, “That will teach you not to waste time.” He took a key from his belt and unchain Bulgarth’s hands and neck, “Get to work. Dig here.” Roth threw a shovel to a spot where an old man had stood but a moment before. He had leaned back in exhaustion and was whipped for it, now he lay on the ground, unable to lift his head. One of the guards dragged him out of the way. Bulgarth turned to look as he dug, he could see the old man’s chest moving. Another sting fell on his back, “Do your work. That one is old and useless.” “There is no useless life.” Bulgarth answered. Another sharp pain. “You will soon learn boy, that once they put you in the mines, you become useless. You become nothing. And before long you will learn to beg like a dog at my bidding like all the others.” Bulgarth glared into the dirt and his heart pounded in his chest as angry adrenalin rushed into his head. His hands clenched into a fist around the wooden handle and he almost lifted the shovel to strike the slave guard. He calmed himself and decided to bid his time. If nothing else, his father had taught him that there were two kinds of masters. One kind seeks to lead while the other demands to be followed. What one deemed as fair, the other scorned as weakness. Bulgarth discerned which kind was now his master. In the following months, Bulgarth took it upon himself to take care of the old man that Roth described as useless. He carried extra burdens and dug longer hours than anyone else to cover for the old man’s part. The other slaves thought Bulgarth a fool. He let them call him stupid for it was less painful than seeing the old man whipped. One night after more than seven months of living in the mines, he felt a light touch on his arm as he lay next to his old friend. Something thin and hard was pressed into his hand. The old man coughed then wheezed, once, twice, and stopped. Bulgarth shed quiet tears for him that night, for though they never spoke the friendship offered was heartfelt. The next day, his friend’s body was taken out of the shaft, to be burnt together with the corpses from other parts of the mine. Bulgarth never showed the metal item to anyone and he hid it under his head band, a piece of rag he tied around his head to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes. He did not even take it out to look at it secretly. The slaves in the ninth shaft were not allowed to go out, hence they ate, slept and eased themselves in the same place where they worked. For three years, Roth watched Bulgarth with wonder, for he needed no coaxing to work so there was no reason to use a whip on him. Roth was glad for that as he did not wish to contend with Bulgarth who had grown larger than even the largest guard in his group. However, none of the slave-guards reported to the people above about Bulgarth since they had a quota to meet and lately their quota had been good. During his stay in that miserable tunnel, Bulgarth noticed that Roth would put aside extra ores and only sent up enough to fulfill the day’s quota. These were exchanged for food and water for the slaves. Roth kept the extra ores for days when the quotas could not be met. So Bulgarth worked all the harder to give respite to his fellows but they continued to call him simple minded. During one break, he was questioned. “Why do you work so hard? Are you trying to make Hastire richer? Do you think he would reward you?” “Move on,” Roth called out. They scampered back to their areas. “I know why you work, but they don’t. You’re answer will shame them and create anger towards you. Help offered where it is not called for is help unwanted.” Roth walked away, and Bulgarth returned to his labor with the advice ringing in his ears. Yes, this one was still free, Roth thought to himself, though he worked and toil as a slave, his heart was still free. The young man brought to him three years ago was stout, but now before him stood a man that no medium sized bush, nor solitary rock could hide. His willing act in carrying the extra burdens had hardened and enlarged his frame and the harsh work had also made him look older than his twenty-seven years. Roth smiled as he wondered what Hastire would think of his enemy now. A slow rumble approached them, sending tremours through the ground and shaking dirt out of cracks and crevices. Slaves clambered out of their work tunnels screaming in terror, and fought their way to the flimsy ladders. Stones and dust pelted down from above but that did not deter those who did not want to be trapped in that tomb. Before the last of them was out, the ladder collapsed. Then the tunnel above the shaft crumbled, raining down heavy rocks which crushed those standing beneath it. Roth turned and saw Bulgarth watching him. The rumbles continued. “You did not go for the ladder,” Bulgarth said, “you know another way out.” Taken aback, Roth said, “I see you are a dangerous man to keep as a slave. Even after all this time, you still have your wits about you.” Roth extracted a torch from the wall and walked down an old tunnel. Then he stopped in front of a boulder, which was about half his height. He passed the torch to Bulgarth, picked up a pickaxe by the side and shoved it under the rock to roll it aside. “Now you know why I never let you work in this part of the tunnel.” Bulgarth half grunted, half laughed in return. The man he should hate was showing him a way out of his prison. Roth told Bulgarth to extinguish the torch then he crawled on all fours into the hole. Bulgarth went in after him. The way before them was steep and they had to climb with bare fingers part of the way. Some parts of the tunnel were wide but some were so narrow they had to squeeze through them. After about an hour's time, they crawled out of the hole and stood on free ground at the edge of a forest. Noises from the commotion in front of the mine drifted towards them in snatches. Bulgarth breathed in deep, the air had never smelled so sweet to him though the sun beat down hot and dying trees offered little shade. The leaves next to him rustled. “Bulgarth?....”, a woman appeared in breeches, with the most golden hair Roth had ever seen. Viggo saw first the black man, then a dirty pale haired man climbed out of the hole. Suddenly, Merlana who was squatting next to him shouted, “Bulgarth?...”,jumped up and ran towards the two men. Providence help us, she has gone mad, Viggo thought to himself. That is not Bulgarth, that is an ape with pale hair. He chased after her, drawing his sword out as he sprinted. “Bulgarth!”, she called again. Frad and Hymae followed with knives drawn. They never thought that they would ever meet another man as large as Sheorl again, but here standing before them were two such men. Legs planted apart, shoulders hunched, arms forward, looking as if either to give Merlana a hug or to break her in half. “Bulgarth?” “Merlana..., Merlana. You are alive, you are free.” Bulgarth began to cry. He had hoped against all hope, yet he had never believed. He had wished, dreamt, prayed that she would not just be alive but also be free, and all his hopes had not been in vain. She jumped and clung onto his neck. She kissed his face over and over. The dirt did not matter, the filth did not matter. He was her brother and he was alive. He was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. She kissed his pale hair, for that was how she knew him, she kissed his sharp flat tipped nose, for that was what confirmed in her heart that it was really him. She even kissed his dirty beard for she remembered how much he had wanted to grow them. Then as he moved, she heard the clink of chains and looked down, and she saw that the other man’s feet were also chained. Roth bowed as she stared at him in wonder. Merlana recalled seeing men like him during her visit to Kalimy when she was still a child. She was surprised to see someone like him here, in Netherweld. Bulgarth said, “Roth, this is my one and only sister. These men here, who I believe are still my friends, are Viggo, Frad and Hymae.” Immediately the three men sheathed back their swords. They were so surprised to learn that the man standing before them was Bulgarth that they had continued to stare open mouth with swords drawn. Viggo, the huntsman, quickly brought them back to the present. “The riot in front of the mines will be put to order soon. We must leave here before they set the dogs out for the runaway slaves.” Bulgarth turned to Roth, “Come with us friend.” “I cannot, I am a slave legally bought. I must return else a worse fate will befall me.” “Do you not wish to be free?” “Yes I do my friend, but I will never be free, for the law calls me a slave. Is life as a convict better than that of a slave-guard? I do not think so. At least now I sleep at night without fear.” “You have helped me much, is there nothing you wish me to do for you?” “You are the son of Bremargh, the slave-friend; would you dare stoke the flame that was put out?” he gave a soft laugh, then continued, “The old man in the mines, did he give you anything?” “Yes he did, how did you know?” “He took extra care of his wrist-band; yet there was nothing in there when I sent his body out of the shaft. When he first came, I overheard one of the freeman guards described him as a personal friend to the king. Other than them, nobody knew who he was. This then is the favour I ask of you; find out what it is he gave you. For it was not given to you as a keepsake alone. Apparently he recognized you, most of the slaves did.” Bulgarth untied his headband and for the first time saw in full light what he could now tell was a pendant. It was a gold tube of about two inches long and half an inch in diameter. He turned it this way and that. The pendant was heavy, showing that it was not hollow, yet there was no secret button, no markings of any kind on it. Frad reached out, Bulgarth pulled his hand away and covered the pendant in his fist as he said, “It’s mine.” “I am better at solving mechanical puzzles.” Frad reasoned. “You solve puzzles by breaking them, then try to put them together again.” Bulgarth responded. Roth chuckled, “I suggest that you carry on your debate elsewhere. I have to return before the commotion dies down. Hopefully they will not notice me creep back.” “What will they do to you?” Merlana asked, her eyes wide and sad. “They will send me to guard another part of the mines.” Before she could ask more, he said, “Goodbye, I hope we will meet again someday, while your hair is still golden.” The slave-guard nodded his adieu to the other men and crept back to the yard. His heart was light for sun-goddess had come down for him that day and the memory of that golden head would keep him happy for many seasons. Frad patted Bulgarth on his shoulders. The hardness under his hand brought bitter sweet feelings into his heart for it told the tale of three years of life that was never planned by those who loved him. Viggo tilted his head as a sign that they had to leave the place. They moved back into the thicket, the noise from Bulgarth’s chain a reminder that they had to move fast. Frad reminded himself to buy Farmer Bradock a barrel of the best ale for helping them pin- point the mine where Bulgarth was held. Ever since the Dew Valley master went missing, Bradock took it upon himself to be friendly with Hastire’s men. One of his cousins worked in the castle and it was through the pretense of inviting this cousin for drinks that he got to know them. Three nights ago, two guards, who worked in Berth, had turned up at his farm looking for their usual water-hole. Of course he obliged them. One of them talked about the ninth shaft and bragged about taking part in some kidnappings. Bradock’s laugh and sarcastic comments encouraged them to say a few names and one name they mentioned was Bulgarth. His brother, Braniggan, helped him take out the two drunk, comatose men to the secret cavern, where they were systematically questioned by others. Since then, the three friends had been watching the mine, trying to plan a way to get Bulgarth out. As of at that day, the only plan they had was open attack. Seeing the two slaves climb out of the ground gave them hope that there was a way to get in without open confrontation. Merlana had insisted on following them that morning and her spontaneous action had saved them a lot of trouble, because if left to themselves they would have let the two men pass by without even a greeting. Though many of the trees he knew were no longer shading them from the heat, Bulgarth recognized the path they were taking, which led to a secret passage close to Dunwood's home. The ground was dry and the patches of remaining grass were brown. They reached a steep cliff and Viggo was the first person to climb down the side onto the ledge and inch his way towards a rock. Then he slipped in behind it and was gone. Hymae felt an uncontrollable urge to laugh. Could Bulgarth make his way down, could he squeeze through the rock. It was a good thing he did not voice his concern, because it never occurred to Bulgarth that he couldn’t do now what he used to do three years ago. Merlana went next, then Bulgarth. Frad bent down on all fours next to Hymae and looked down to watch Bulgarth with interest. Bulgarth reached the opening and thought it strange that he was having difficulties getting in. Merlana and Viggo had to pull him from the other side. Just when he finally managed to squeeze his chest through, he heard guffaws of laughter from above. He was still deciding on what he would do to his two friends when they slipped in through the opening. The laughing eyes and red faces were such a welcomed sight he made up his mind to forgive them. They trekked through a dim tunnel towards Dunwood’s cottage. Some parts of the passage were covered with overhanging roots through which light peeked in. Bulgarth turned to Merlana and asked her a question that was close to his heart, “What of Juna and Sarah? Are they also safe?” Merlana said, “Yes they are. They are now with Dunwood, most probably making dinner for us.” Bulgarth was pleased to hear that, then he noticed that Sheorl was not there, and he knew that the giant would never let Merlana go anywhere without him. “Where is Sheorl?” Merlana paused in her tracks, then continued walking, “He died on the day they took you. We were pursued through the corn fields and he insisted on staying behind, but made the three of us run. We went back to fields two days later with Frad and Hymae, when we thought it was safe. He was sitting cross legged on the path where we left him, his head lobed off and placed on his lap.” Merlana held back her tears as she remembered the sight. With her breath caught in her throat, she said, “We buried him in the corn field.” Viggo as always wondered why the corpse was not maimed as was the normal practice of Hastire’s men. Nobody but those men knew why. They crouched in terror through the night, waiting for the giant to show signs of fatigue, which his form never did. Then when daylight came, they saw the blood around him. That was when they realized that it was not his growing shadow that they had seen under the moonlight, but his blood. They were of course incensed at being made fools of by a corpse, and one man had swung a broadsword against his neck. The head fell, but his body remained sitting. The men stared, nobody dared to move, until one soldier picked up the fierce-face head and laid it on Sheorl’s lap. The leader decided to end their pursuit and return to the castle. They burnt their dead comrades in the field, but left Sheorl alone, so he might continue to guard the path. None of Hastire's men dared to step into the corn field after that. Rumours started to circulate that his spirit guarded the place and that his mighty sword could still be heard swishing away into the night. This rumour of course did not sit well with Hamlin, so he forced the captain to bring the men down to the corn field the following week. The ashes of their burnt comrades were found, for it had not rained all that time, but not the sitting form of Sheorl. Not even his blood was on the path. The man who struck off his head went hysterical and the terrors of the captain and his troops were reinforced. Nobody noticed that a new scarecrow had been erected in the field, not far from the path. Frad had put it there, so they would know where exactly they buried Sheorl’s body. Merlana, Sarah and Juna had tearfully scrapped his blood mixed with earth from the ground, which they used to cover his body. Frad and Hymae were not pleased, since they had hoped to make their enemies think that wolves had taken the body away for a feast. The two men did the next best thing they could think of - they covered back the path with fresh earth and stomped all over it. The girls’ action, however, had proven the more interesting because it was not considered natural and hence caused unnatural fears. Noises from the field were attributed to Sheorl and his imagined forms were claimed to have been seen by men who had no other way of explaining their fears. In that manner, Sheorl’s reputation lived long after him and continued to make that field and the forest behind it save for those he loved. The giant’s burial was explained in detail to Bulgarth as they walked down the passage. Viggo stopped and said, “I used to stink bad in the pass Bulgarth, but never as bad as you. I suggest you clean yourself in that spring there, else we may need to deal with a fainting Dunwood later.” He pointed into a dark cavern to his left where there was a natural waterfall and a shallow pool. Bulgarth grunted then he stepped into the spring and took off his clothes, or whatever was left of it. He had enough civility to scrub the rags as he washed. He also cleaned the pendant in his hand, squinting at it under the dim light. He looked about and saw a thin vein sticking out from the wall next to him. After giving it a yank and washing it clean, he strung it through the pendant. He tied the ends together and wore it around his neck. Bulgarth stepped back into the passage, dripping water like a mongrel that had just come out from a swim. Merlana was not amused, “You will catch a cold.” Bulgarth smiled, “The air in the passage is warm and dry, I will be fine.” He lifted her face with his right hand and kissed her forehead. She smiled. Then hand in hand, they continued their journey. Viggo knocked on a door at the end of the passage. Sarah opened it, and as she let them in, she stared open mouth at the man who was with them. Juna walked in with a basket of fruits, put it down instantly on seeing him, put her arms around his neck and kissed his face. And with her face buried in his shoulders, she cried with relief. Dunwood who heard crying from the kitchen came out into the dining area expecting the worst. Suddenly he felt happier than he had ever been for many years. Hot tears pricked his eyes, “Ah yes, this calls for tea.” He ran to his upstairs kitchen, to boil the biggest pot of the finest tea in his life. Bulgarth stood transfixed, for he was being held by a woman who was more beautiful than he remembered. Sarah held onto the door, now openly crying with happiness too. He held up one arm for her, then another to his sister. The three in his arms were girls when he last saw them, now they were women. Bulgarth knew that for the rest of his life, he would owe their growth into womanhood to his friends. And he owed their life to a man he could no longer repay. Hymae patted Bulgarth on his back and led him to the table. “Come you must be hungry. I doubt if they fed you in that mine, probably just enough to keep you alive.” The three women let go of him as guilt dawned on their faces for showing so little concern to his immediate need. Juna and Sarah hurried to the underground kitchen while Merlana rushed upstairs to help with tea. Dunwood hauled down a large pot of tea and when he placed it down on the table, he heard the chains rattling. He poked his head under the table and said, “Bulgarth, do you insist on keeping those chains.” The young man laughed, “No, I do not. But it is a small matter. Let us only consider it after dinner.” Dunwood saw that the lock was crude and only needed a simple skeleton key so he reached behind his head for the tool of his secret trade. Then he crawled under the table. Bulgarth protested, but a moment later, the wagon maker poked his head out from under the table and held the chains up triumphantly in his hand. Viggo and Sarah hurrayed as they walked in with platters of corn and potato from the kitchen. Hymae presented a huge turkey that farmer Bradock had brought over that morning. Juna placed a basket of fruit next to Bulgarth while Merlana brought bread from upstairs, which Hotpan sent over. At the end of the meal, Frad thought of a new problem and said, “We will need to find new clothes for you Bulgarth. Although I wonder how we may endeavor to do so, seeing how big you have become.” “That is alright,” Dunwood said between sips of his tea, “He can wear Sheorl’s clothes.” Viggo interjected, “Have you become simple minded? The manor was burnt with all his property in it.” Everyone stared at Dunwood. “Sheorl was no fool in his life. After Bremargh and Meryl were killed, he hid his clothing and the children’s in the tunnel. He wanted to be prepared in case they had to leave the manor in haste. How else do you think I had women-clothes for these three when they first came?” Nobody answered him, Dunwood looked at them suspiciously. Hymae’s face began to turn red as he tried to hold back his laughter, but Sarah’s giggle set the whole company off. Viggo as usual did not stay with them and left as soon as he finished dinner. He went to the secret cavern to tell all their friends that Bulgarth was back safe and sound. And he also told them that the stout clumsy young man they used to know, now looks like an ugly ape. Everyone meeting in the cavern shouted with joy, and many cried with relief. It had been a long hard three years. Though they met there late every night, their hopes grew dimmer day by day, and it was only by stubborn persistence that they had continued the watch. That night their persistence was paid in full. That same night, hope returned. Viggo knew that it was a heavy burden to place on a young man’s shoulder, but then Bulgarth was the son of Bremargh, the man who had given them their good life in the past.
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