Chapter 30. The guardians of the tunnel
The desert was freezing cold. In a hurry, the Stranger left the bag with the possessions with the Hermit and, light-handed, was now walking quickly. He was not thinking about anything, he only wanted to melt into the desert. Sometimes a strong wind started and threw sand at him. When the Stranger got tired he stopped and looked at the huge bright stars shining from the bluish black sky. With the dark the desert started to wake: the yellow eyes of predators flashed here and there, jackals howled, animals and birds hooted and chawed. The desert was now filled with the sounds that drove mad the ancient travelers who at night climbed the branchy heads of trees to avoid being caught by the wild animals, spread their cloaks and waited for the dawn. But he had no time to wait as he no longer belonged to himself. He had no fear: on the contrary, there was a desire to fight.
He remembered meeting with the three wayfarers dressed in black, the mask-like face of one of them who deigned to look his way, the scorn that flickered in his inhuman eyes and could feel the Wind that helped him to survive.
The Stranger drank in the Wind and felt protected: without water, weapons, even without a stick to frighten away the beasts and throw off the snakes. He could only rely upon the Creator.
Early in the morning he reached the tunnel and found the entrance covered with stones. Without hesitation the Stranger began to turn the rocks and throw them away. He could barely finish the work when he turned his head to see two stout armed men with beards. At once, he understood they were the adepts of some religious order and talking to them would be hard.
“We are the Guardians of the holy gates. A stranger shall not enter the tunnel. Get out of here or we’ll cut you to ribbons!” said one of them and slowly, as if posing, took out a thin knife.
“Wait,” said the second guardian and, gazing at the Stranger asked him, “how do you know about the tunnel?”
“I know about the tunnel. You have no right to hold me off. The tunnel belongs to everybody. You are like a snake guarding its gold.”
The guardian held a knife to the neck of the darer, but saw no more than a sneer in his eyes.
“Put down the knife, quick!” ordered the second one, staring hard at the Stranger. “Who are you, man?”
After this question the Stranger felt the breath of the Wind: the anger that was suppressed with such a difficulty still hasn’t passed.
“You’d better not know this. Help me or get away, or I’ll crush you!”
The man with the knife trembled, lowered his head and sank to his knees.
“Forgive me, Prince, I haven’t recognized you. Forgive me!” he looked at the Stranger with admiration and devotion.
“I am not the Prince, I was only sent by him,” the Stranger lifted him. “Help me.”
The guardians exchanged glances and willingly nodded their heads. Altogether they started to clear the entrance.
“Careful! We’ve put a trip wire,” warned one of the desert warriors.
The mine was placed with one branch of the trip wire, attached by pegs and rose about 15 centimeters above the land surface. The guardian took his sharp knife and quickly cut the strained strip, removed the camouflage layer around the igniter set and out pieces of wire into the openings of the pin slapper rods. Then he picked the side of a small mine with his knife and, turning the igniter set counter clockwise, carefully unscrewed it.
“Who are you?” asked the Stranger with hardly concealed irritation. He could hardly have expected that the tunnel would be full of such surprises.
“We are the warriors of the desert. We have a contract with the governors who have given us the right to guard the tunnel,” answered a guardian with great dignity.
“Why do you need the tunnel? And what has happened with the entrance?”
“The tunnel is one of the main sacred places, according to the prophecy: ‘Give the Prince the entrance and give his messenger the exit, and no strange person shall pass them or tread the bullets of our God, as no evil man will walk along His roads and anyone plotting evil will die’. We do believe that the Prince or his messenger will get to the City exactly through this tunnel. And this is where his ascension to glory will begin.”
“So you’ve decided to fulfill the spiritual prophecy this way, by making so many traps in the tunnel, and you think that if a sincere person goes here, nothing will happen to him, and one shouldn’t be sorry for a sinner, right?”
The Stranger understood: he won’t be able not only to destroy the traps, but even to spot them. That was the thing the Soldier was needed for. He sat at the entrance and started to pray.
“The sons of Men make it all so much harder. They kill others and themselves without understanding the sense of the ancient prophecies, and the pastors use them in their interests disorienting their parish. And now, do try to clean up all that mess! I cannot go through the tunnel. If only a messenger of God was here with me, as the legend about the young men who were thrown into a boiling copper trap said it. I’m in the same trap now. What shall I do? Return? Take a train? But they’re looking for me. I can go over the mountains, but it’s a long and dangerous way, and I should be quick. If I don’t arrive in time, it’ll be a trouble. So, what can I do?” the Stranger turned his thoughts to Heaven. And inside his head he heard a voice: “The help will come, wait”.
“Do you know how to go through the tunnel avoiding the traps?” the Stranger attentively looked at the guardian.
“No. Nobody knows it now. The one who put them is no longer with us.”
“I get it,” the Stranger saw that the desert warrior was not lying. “I heard a voice that told me to wait here. The help will come.”
The guardian looked at him with disappointment and regret. An experienced warrior of the desert liked this newcomer and it even seemed to him that he possesses some divine power and spirit, but he still had to be killed if he refused to go through the tunnel.
The Stranger felt the fatigue only then. He closed his eyes trying to take a nap, but he could not: every time he fell asleep, he was overcome with fear. Where was the Wind that gave courage, confidence and bravery? He had to search the codes.
He remembered the courtroom, the charge of illicit possession of the ancient artifacts, and with a difficulty his speech: at some moment, he lost control of himself. The Wind took over him, and he started to predict sorrows to all those who were in the room. Later on, the Stranger was horrified by what he had said but comforted himself by deciding that he was not inflicting miseries, he was just foretelling them. After all, a news presenter is not guilty for the bad announcements, he only reads the text displayed to him.