The Golden Fountain

by Zuheb Alep

  He’d slept for a few hours and it was already dawn. Kaileena was kneeling on the floor with Kevin, Alby and the band, all huddled together in his tent with fear-stricken faces.

  Benjamin and Prince Adam exchanged perplexed glances then rose and ran out of the tent, the others following behind. Warm air struck their faces, and in the light of the rising sun they could see that the camp was humming with activity.

  Soldiers, dwarves and elves were flocking to the low brick wall, and the fires in the sooty grates had burned low. The Orellions and other armies of the Aradian Empire were also heading for the wall.

  Benjamin looked around anxiously for his elder brothers. Prince Adam nudged him again. Two guards were approaching.

  “My prince, your father has given us orders to take you to the plane,” one of them said.

  Plane? thought Benjamin.

  “There! Look!” said Prince Adam. Grabbing Benjamin’s wrist with one hand, he pointed over to the low brick wall with the other. There they all were: the Spartan warriors who had come a long way from their homeland, their scarlet cloaks and golden helmets outshining the gleam of their massive shields and spears; beside them were the mohawk-haired witches with glowing tattoos on their hands, who looked just as fearsome as rumour declared them to be. The other armies stood amongst them, sectioned into groups as more came.

  They were all facing west where the desert stretched onward, but there was nothing there, no army to fight against. Benjamin could see no sign of the pharaoh or his men, only the zeppelins and the lone plane.

  “This time we’re not fighting,” said Musab.

  Benjamin nodded. They had to go home. Jordanna and Nadine were waiting for them, maybe with Mama and Papa. Many days had already passed, and it would be a mistake to prolong their time in this place.

  “Where is the plane?” Kaileena shouted. “Where should we go?”

  Benjamin said nothing but seized Kevin and Alby by the hand. The two guards led them to where the armies stood. Prince Adam, Kaileena and the band hurried after them, hoping that the guards knew where they were going.

  When the guards had paved a way through the crowd, they reached the low brick wall and held out their hands.

  Benjamin looked at the plane beside the zeppelins and noticed something which might be of great assistance to them. It was the grey aeroplane he had seen the previous evening with Alby, and piloting it was the dark cloaked man. His companions, the ghost and the lion, sat beside him, waving at Benjamin through the window. What had brought them here? He wondered if the king had summoned them to help the children, or if the others could see them too.

  Benjamin waved back and nodded.

  It was the only way.

  He climbed over the low brick wall with the two guards, urging his siblings and friends to hurry. Their presence was causing disruption to the armies.

  Benjamin ran straight into the tunnel with the others and then stopped. The door leading to the interior of the plane was blocked by shimmering dark webs.

  It seemed that the strange trio did not want company. They did, however, intend to take the children home; this became clear when the engines throbbed to life and the propellers started to spin like a whirlwind.

  They were ready to go.

  “Benjamin, are you sure we’re on the right plane to go home?” asked Musab.

  “Trust me!” he called back, and that was all they could do. The trio were evidently not kidnappers, and this was their only chance to go home.

  “What about Sebastian, Edgar and Herman?” asked Kaileena.

  “Sebastian needs to stay and do his duty,” Prince Adam told her, “But look for Edgar and Herman. I hope they saw us come through here.”

  With eyes like hawks the guards and the band checked the whole area for a glimpse of the brothers, to no avail. Benjamin fell back at the jolt of the plane’s movement. Its wheels were now rolling.

  The vast landscape looked frightening through the window of the tunnel, and the sound of marching feet could be heard. Rough voices shouted commands from behind the desert dunes, and Benjamin finally saw the pharaoh’s army ascending the peaks, armoured in leather breastplates and skirts. In their hands were double-edged scimitars which shone blood-red from the rising sun. It was an army of at least ten thousand.

  The two sides faced each other, ready to kill or be killed. Unfortunately, the plane lay between them, rendering Benjamin and his companions very vulnerable.

  Everything was still for a few moments until the sounds of trotting hooves broke the silence. Prince Adam’s father, mounted on a stallion, rode out to meet the pharaoh who rode on a tall, weary camel; behind them stood their representatives. Benjamin could hear their words and see their faces, stern with royal dignity.

  “My friend, what is the meaning of this?” asked the pharaoh after a long look at the armies standing before him.

  “I could ask the same of you,” the king responded with a snort. “You know the answer to your own question, my false friend. Why else have you brought your army to face mine?”

  “I have done nothing wrong. These soldiers are here to protect me, and my country, against the armies you have brought with you.”

  “You have indeed done wrong,” the king corrected. “Talk will not mend these misdeeds, only action. What you have done breaches all human rights. You have violated the world’s law against slavery and, in the name of Light, you will be punished by death.”

  “Remember that this was not my choice. I want the best for my people.”

  The king snorted once more. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have put your people to work as slaves. I know how weak you are. You should not have given in to the darkness, and for this you will be punished. My armies will destroy yours, thus reminding the world of its laws which ought to be respected.”

  Benjamin could see now how angry Prince Adam’s father was. The two kings turned away from each other, mutual loathing on their ageing faces, and returned to their positions.

  King Baruji stood facing his armies and unsheathed his sword, his blade glinting brightly like the fire in his heart; as it cut through the air, it sang with sharpness. In response to their king, a loud roar erupted from the throats of the Aradian soldiers. The Spartans cursed as they clashed their shields against their spears. The birds squawked and cawed noisily alongside the shouts of dwarves, Tuaryans, witches and elves. Above all other sounds rose the deafening roars of the Orellions.

  The Egyptian army neither roared nor shouted but stormed down the hills with their sickles, scimitars and whips at the ready. Running like bulls, faces red with anger, they poured over the desert.

  It was then that Benjamin saw Edgar and Herman running towards them from the low brick wall. He called for them to hurry, but they vanished into the crowd that surrounded them.

  Without fear or hesitation the Spartans made the first move; they jumped over the low brick wall and charged head-on. The birds followed close by with the Tuaryans, soaring into the air with their huge wings beating against the wind. The elves stayed where they were and drew out their woven arrows, fitting them in the grooves of their bows. When they were ready, they would shoot.

  Unlike them, the dwarves thumped their chests hard, clutching their bulky hammers and cleaving axes. A single blow was enough to smash heads into smithereens, something they seemed eager to do. They pulled their bodies upwards with their thick, muscular arms, clearing the low wall to thunder towards their enemies at amazing speed. Behind them the witches held out their hands, elegantly flexing their fingers in readiness to draw the aura of their colourful magic from their tattoos, which glowed brighter by the second. The Orellions leapt onwards with long strides, carrying Aradian soldiers on their backs. These were the ones to avoid; death would be preferable to a fight with a snow cat.

  The two armies rumbled across the battlefield, sending golden mists of sand
spiralling into the air.

  The second battle had begun.

  Benjamin screamed for Edgar and Herman who were nowhere to be seen, but controlled himself as he watched the two armies clash brutally. War cries filled the air; the birds squawked high in the sky then swooped down to slash with their armoured talons. The elves shot unerringly from their bows, their arrows streaking past to spread fire and poison, while the dwarves smashed and clashed with their heavy weapons, now bearing gouts of blood.

  The Spartans were the fiercest, showing no mercy as they lunged forward with their spears. Some of them had been stabbed, yet the wounds became like a scratch on the elbow, such immortality had been bestowed on them. The Aradian army fought as well as they had done in the first battle, their greatest asset a lack of mortal fear. As the Orellions leapt over the heads of their enemies, their riders’ swords slashed left and right in a way that made an onlooker want to shield their eyes.

  Another light streaked past, then the flash of coloured balls, lightning and whips of fire lit up the battlefield. The witches were shooting their magic like bullets, while the Tuaryans used their elemental powers. Benjamin looked up as the sky filled with dark clouds. The yellow-winged Tuaryans were raising their hands as if pulling on a rope; as they pulled, bolts of lightning crashed forward to explode on the misty sands like bombs, hitting several Egyptian soldiers. The fires from the hearths at the Red Tents rose like snakes, swooshing in and out to scorch the Egyptians.

  It was too much for Benjamin, and the plane hadn’t even taken off. They were trapped.

  “Benjamin! Look!” shouted Kaileena.

  Benjamin turned, his hair whipping in the wind, and saw her pointing at a man with short, curly hair.

  “Hey!” Kevin stood up and shouted. “There!” he said. “There’s Herman!”

  “Where?” Benjamin asked, startled.

  “There! Herman! We’re over here!”

  Benjamin squinted. He looked over to where Kevin was pointing, then he saw him too. Edgar was nowhere near; they must have been separated. Eyes wide open, Benjamin shouted.

  “Herman! Get on the plane! Herman!”

  Herman, armed with a longsword, sheathed his weapon. He had heard their call and moved towards the plane, which was picking up speed. He broke into a dash, knowing there was no time to lose.

  “Herman! Come on!” called Benjamin.

  Herman panted as he chased the wheels, running as fast as he could, shoving the soldiers aside with his outstretched hands. He was soon gaining on the speeding aircraft.

  “Get in!” shouted Prince Adam. “Quickly!”

  Benjamin reached out his hand and Kevin reached out another, their hands joined in a knot of love that nothing could break. Benjamin pulled and Herman jumped. It was all they could do to haul him on board.

  Now that Herman was with them, Benjamin checked on the others. They were all okay. Amberina and Ruby were cuddling Alby at the end of the tunnel, trying to calm him down.

  “I’m tired! Why are bad things always happening? I don’t like it! I’m tired!”

  “Shush!” crooned Amberina, stroking his hair. “Nothing’s happening.”

  “Yes, it is!”

  Benjamin heard no more. He almost fell, grabbing Prince Adam’s shoulder to steady himself. The plane skidded and swerved. It had reached the end of the battlefield and was turning to move back the same way it had come. They wouldn’t fly off yet, Benjamin was sure of it; he knew that the plane wouldn’t leave unless Edgar was on board.

  “Where’s Edgar?” he asked Herman.

  Herman replied with questions which Benjamin had no time to answer. “Never mind all that! Help me find Edgar. Keep your eyes peeled for him!”

  This time it was Prince Adam who found Edgar, fighting back-to-back with a silver-bearded dwarf. He alerted Benjamin at once, and they called as loudly as they could. Edgar heard their desperate cries and turned swiftly with a relieved smile.

  “Edgar!” Benjamin cried. “Come on! We’re going home!”

  Edgar nodded and turned to his companion. “Silvor,” he said, “I must go! My brothers are on that plane.”

  “Go!” said Silvor. “If your family needs you, then you must go. I’ll be fine!”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Until our next meeting, then!”

  The dwarf pushed Edgar forward, clearly in a hurry to fight. It was customary for the dwarves to count their kills during battle and exchange them for higher rankings.

  While the aeroplane taxied towards Edgar, its wheels rolling over the fallen bodies, Benjamin held out his hand at the ready. Herman did the same and they waited, eyes focused on Edgar. They had only one chance and couldn’t afford to fail.

  The roar of the huge metallic wings deafened Edgar as it whooshed past, but Benjamin had his arm and was gripping it tightly. Herman followed suit and quickly hefted his brother backwards. Their stomachs lurched.

  The plane had almost left the ground, its propellers raging against the wind.

  Benjamin grunted, using all the strength left in him to avoid letting go. They must lift his muscular brother, but he was too heavy.

  “Pull!” yelled Herman.

  “I’m trying!” replied Benjamin. “He’s too big!”

  “Why do you have to be so muscular?” said Kevin, clutching the back of Edgar’s shirt.

  It was beginning to seem impossible until there was another jolt as the massive plane tilted sideways, throwing Edgar inside. He crashed down onto three of his brothers.

  “Now there’s just Sebastian to find!” said Herman.

  “I’m not sure if we can take him,” Benjamin said. “He won’t be allowed to abandon his duty during battle.” Benjamin hated to admit it, but it was the hard truth.

  “Look for him anyway!” Edgar shouted.

  The two men were exhausted from running, so Benjamin and Kevin stood up to search for their one remaining brother. When they’d found him, maybe the plane could leave; just maybe.

  There was something distracting Prince Adam, Benjamin could see. With one hand, the prince held onto the wall of the tunnel and peered towards the north.

  “Benjamin, look!” he cried.

  Everyone spun their head around. Standing upon the northern hills of the huge desert was a third army made up of slaves, almost three thousands of them, excepting the small children.

  How was that possible?

  Benjamin’s emotions were mixed; he was glad to see that they were okay but worried about their welfare. Ten Aradian soldiers and two Orellions were with them, escorting them with the wagons, now presumably empty of food and water.

  “For Egypta!” sang a young voice.

  Benjamin’s heart leapt with joy. He would know that voice anywhere; it was Haroon. Gripping the edge of the tunnel, he almost cried. Haroon was all right.

  This third army had no armour; they carried sticks and stones to fight with and wooden planks for shields. Their chests were bare, their only garment the skirts they wore. Nevertheless, they had a great asset: elephants and rhinos. The big, weary and wrinkled animals stood grunting and trumpeting in their own cry for freedom.

  “For Benjamin, the boy who came and blessed us with freedom!”

  The others sang songs of war in tune with the drum beats resounding from west to east.

  Benjamin was entranced. His name had been spoken. He had never expected this.

  “You freed the slaves?” Prince Adam was staring at him with astonishment.

  Benjamin shrugged, looking down bashfully. It was true in a way, though not directly; if it hadn’t been for the Unique Compass, he wouldn’t have suggested the diversion tactic to Sebastian.

  “We did it together,” he replied.

  “You’re a wonder!” Prince Adam commented, smiling. He was finding this hard to believe, ye
t the evidence was there in front of his eyes.

  Benjamin kept watching the slaves.

  The rumbling of heavy footsteps shook the northern hills. The animals and slaves teemed continuously over the desert, their weary bodies stumbling over one another as they charged. They targeted the overseers, having suffered at their hands once too often.

  “For Egypta! For freedom! Fight to the death!”

  The slaves’ songs echoed back and forth in the thick air. Their primitive yet functional weapons collided noisily with their enemies’. They fought hard, knowing that this battle would free them either through victory or death, their miserable life of slavery over for good.

  Benjamin watched everything that happened as the battlefield grew larger. It was a huge confrontation, much larger than the first battle; this time there were more fires, more ruins and more ferocious beasts.

  But he must go home.

  “Sebastian!”

  Benjamin turned to find Kaileena at the edge of the tunnel, pointing at two men riding a pair of Orellions.

  “He’s there, fighting beside Supreme Commander Warrick!” she said.

  Sure enough, he was; Benjamin could see him too. Unlike his brothers, Sebastian was wearing the same armour he’d worn during the expedition to the Far South, his blazing sword streaking upwards.

  Benjamin would have called but felt his throat tighten. Could his brother leave the battle and come with them?

  “SEBASTIAN!” his siblings called loudly, trying to make themselves as audible as possible. The battle was spreading now and was far more deafening, but they kept on calling. They wanted to attract Sebastian’s attention and get him on the plane.

  Thankfully, Sebastian’s Orellion had picked up their call. Pricking up his sharp ears, Prince Chamillion (for it was he) swerved his shaggy head sideways. Sebastian was puzzled by this unusual behaviour until he also heard his brothers call, and turned to look at the passing aeroplane.

  “Sebastian! We’re going home!” Kevin roared, beckoning.

  Prince Chamillion leapt excitedly, but Sebastian restrained him and shook his head. Supreme Commander Warrick saw him and frowned. Sebastian shot him a hard look, then felt a hand grip him tightly. It was King Baruji.