Chapter 6

 

 

An exhausted Jena sat with her friends on the ground in the middle of a village of wooden huts. It was late in the afternoon and they had spent half the day travelling through the jungle to reach it from the desert cliffs. They had seen more of Jothan’s folk since their arrival, coming and going from the huts whose roofs were made from a jungle plant with huge leaves. Just one was close to five feet long and two or three feet wide.

 

The men and women cast them furtive glances as they went by, the boglin guards kicking at any that got too close with yelping laughs. They looked an oppressed folk, grim faced and wearing ragged clothing. Jena didn’t think they were going to get any help from them.

 

She shifted slightly, her body aching after being tied to the shaggy haired Thad for such a long time. She was badly sunburned, her lips peeling and sore after the exposure to the burning sun. Nyssa and Nye were in even worse shape and Lore was unconscious, having passed out during the terrible trek. He had been carried across the back of a Thad for the last part of the journey.

 

Jena knew they faced a grim fate. They were to be sacrificed to this Racos, or sacrificed by Racos… none of them knew which. Either way, she knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. The boglins seemed to worship him with a zeal that was very scary.

 

She knew there was only one hope for them. That Dom and Berrin had survived the attack on their camp and were on their way to alert the desert elves of their plight. But it was a long way and even once they did it would take time for a rescue party to come after them. She had a horrifying thought that none of them would be alive to see them.

 

‘How are you feeling, Jena?’ Nyssa croaked weakly beside her.

 

Jena looked up at her, frowning in concern at her sunburnt face and dry, cracked lips. She figured her own face must look just as bad.

 

‘Frightened,‘ she said miserably. ‘And thirsty.‘

 

‘Me too,’ Nyssa said, giving her a tired smile.

 

‘I think we’re lucky to be alive,’ Nye whispered, careful to keep his voice low.

 

They were not supposed to speak. Both and Nyssa and Nye had been jabbed with the butt of a spear from a guard for doing so. But the guards had wandered away from them and Nyssa thought it safe to whisper.

 

‘How’s Lore?’ Jena asked, her gaze settling on the unmoving dwarf lying on the ground beside Nye.

 

‘Not good I’m afraid,’ he replied. ‘The journey almost killed him I think.’

 

‘Dwarves like cooler climates… caves and tunnels, mountains and lakes,’ Nyssa said. ‘I thought the boglins were going to leave him when he passed out.’

 

‘They want us all for this sacrifice,’ Nye said gloomily. ‘Even unconscious it seems.’

 

‘Shhh!’ Jena hissed in warning. ‘Here comes Trall!’

 

They all turned to see the boglin leader approaching, accompanied by two villagers, a man and a woman.

 

‘You go with Mebin,’ Trall said, then added with sneer. ‘He feed you… make you fat for tomorrow!‘

 

Jena managed a smile at the thought of food and water. But Trall’s next words chilled her to the bone.

 

‘Fat for Racos!’

 

He turned away, cackling with laughter from his little joke.

 

The man and woman eyed them with sympathetic expressions.

 

‘I am Mebin as Thrall said and this is my wife, Sentha,’ the man said.

 

‘I am Nyssa, and this is Jena and Nye,’ Nyssa said. ‘Our ill friend is Lore.’

 

Mebin nodded.

 

‘We will carry him for you. Please do not ask any questions till we are in my hut.’

 

Nyssa nodded at his request and they all got wearily to their feet. Mebin and Sentha picked Lore up and carried him away. Nyssa picked Jena up and she and Nye followed them through the village.

 

As they walked Jena saw more and more huts scattered throughout the village. Many appeared abandoned though, half choked by the encroaching jungle growth. But she thought there must be several hundred humans in the village, ranging from the very young to the very old.

 

Mebin and Sentha entered one hut and Nyssa and Nye followed. Once inside Lore was placed gently on a bed in a corner. A low wooden table sat in the middle of the hut and on it was some food and water.

Jena looked at it longingly and Mebin smiled at her expression.

 

‘Please, be seated and eat,’ he said. ‘You have suffered much and whatever comfort we can offer you is yours.‘

 

Everyone sat down around the table, Jena actually sitting on it so she could eat. There was some plain bread and a nutty paste to spread on it, as well as dates that Jena had got quite used to. But it was the water that everyone craved and they all drank several cups, Jena drinking from a thimble Mebin produced.

 

Sentha meanwhile was seeing to Lore, washing his face with a soaked sponge from a bowl of water.

 

‘Will Lore be all right?’ Nyssa asked her worriedly.

 

‘He has sunstroke,’ she replied. ‘He needs to be cooled down and when he wakes, to drink. But I think he will recover.’

 

She looked up at Mebin with a grim expression.

 

‘Though I think he will not thank us with what you face,’ she ended lamely.

 

‘Why are we to be sacrificed to Racos. Who is he?’ Nye asked.

 

‘And how did you come to be here and why are these boglins so brutal to you?’ Nyssa asked.

 

‘Many questions that have many answers,’ Mebin replied. ‘First I must ask if you know of an elf called Alin.’

 

‘Alin!’ Nye exclaimed. ‘Yes, I know of him. Is he here?’

 

Mebin shook his head.

 

‘No, he was captured by the boglins like yourselves,’ Mebin replied. ‘That was twenty years ago when I was a younger man. He had crossed the Dead Sands all by himself, though how he did so amazes me still.’

 

‘What did the boglins do to him?’ Nye asked angrily.

 

‘The same as what awaits you,’ Sentha said. ‘He was cast into the Tomb of Racos. But first he spoke to my father and told him of the elves that live in the desert beyond the Dead Sands. Let me say that we were shocked to even meet Alin as we thought that no other folk lived anywhere to the north.’

 

‘And we you,’ Nyssa said. ‘We have been told that no humans were alive in Lendor.’

 

Mebin smiled.

 

‘And here we are… folk who thought that the other were only a part of history… only to find we are both wrong,’ he said.

 

‘Who is this Racos the boglins talk about?’ Jena asked.

 

‘He was a wizard and nearly five hundred years ago he led our ancestors here, fleeing a terrible danger in the city of Kreth far to the north.’

 

‘Kreth was destroyed… or at least the people that lived there were,’ Nyssa replied. ‘But elves and dwarves survived, as did gnomes and fairies.’

 

‘But none of our people,’ Sentha said sadly.

 

‘Actually one did,’ Nyssa replied, making them both open their eyes wide. ‘A wizard named Eldor, who was alive even then and still lives. He says that after Kreth fell to a creature of magic called the Shiver, none of your folk could have children and they died out.’

 

She didn’t mention Mogrom as she thought it would be pointless. Mebin and Sentha wouldn’t be meeting her.

 

‘Another wizard like Racos!’ Mebin said in wonder. ‘It is a pity he isn’t with you to help us.’

 

‘He may come when he finds out we’re missing,’ Jena put in. ‘Though… it might be a while.’

 

‘I’m afraid he will not find you alive,’ Mebin said grimly. ‘There is no escape from Racos’ tomb.’

 

‘Did the boglins build this tomb… and what’s inside it?’ Nye asked.

 

‘No, the boglins didn’t build it… nor any of the other ancient ruins that are here in the jungle,’ Sentha explained. ‘They were here when Racos arrived, ancient even then and no one knows what happened to the folk who built them. Perhaps the boglins knew them, but they have never said.’

 

‘Much of the ruins are now crumbled and being reclaimed by the jungle,’ Mebin added. ‘Racos’ tomb is one of a few buildings still standing and it’s full of traps and snares. Many of my folk have been cast into it, as well as Alin.’

 

‘That’s so awful!’ Jena said in horror.

 

‘But why are they so cruel to you?’ Nyssa asked. ‘Have they always been so?’

 

‘Not till Racos died,’ Mebin replied. ‘When he arrived with our ancestors, the boglins avoided us for the most part. But Racos befriended them, showing them some of his magic. He was a fire wielder and could conjure fire with his magic staff. The boglins were captivated by his powers and worshipped him. But he was very old even then and he died within a century of arriving. The boglins lost dozens of their kind to bury him in the tomb, then turned against us, blaming us for his death. Since then our folk have been their slaves.’

 

‘We thought we were a doomed people… forever like this… until Alin arrived,’ Sentha said. ‘He showed us that there is life beyond the jungles… that others live who could help us. Since then some of our folk have attempted to cross the Dead Sands seeking help… and perished there. Till now… till Jothan.’

 

‘He told no-one that he was going and stole the key to the tomb… hoping I think stop any more sacrifices,’ Mebin said. ‘The boglins were enraged and went after him, which has now brought you here. Jothan’s body was brought back as a lesson to us that escape is futile.’

 

‘And we’re going to be the next sacrifices,’ Nye said in a gloomy tone.

 

Mebin nodded.

 

‘Yes, tomorrow you will be cast into the tomb.’

 

‘If only I still had my bracelet,’ Jena said dejectedly.

 

‘Your bracelet?’ Sentha asked with a frown.

 

‘It has magic powers too and I could save us all with it I think,’ Jena explained. ‘But it was taken from me when we were captured.’

 

‘Trall will have it now,’ Mebin replied grimly. ‘And there is no chance any of us could steal it back. The boglins watch us too closely now.’

 

Jena nodded, a feeling of utter hopelessness overwhelming her. They truly were doomed to perish here, she thought.