Category: The Hills

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The Lost Years (continued . . .)

















	

















	














With some difficulty, Narri found the rocky outcrop where he had slept on that fateful night.

This is the very spot. I lay down here and slept. And, by the stars, I’ll do it again!

He threw himself down. Within a short time, he was sleeping the sleep of the weary. And then—a strange vapour issued from a cleft in the rock.

He woke up at dawn. And he saw . . .

A herd of glebes! Can it be . . .?

This is my old herdleader! It’s true! A miracle has happened. They are just as I left them, three lunar years ago!

He returned to the place where he had hidden with Roffa.

The entrance to Roffa’s secret hide-out—it’s not here!

Of course it’s not here!

The whole thing was a dream—a nightmare! I went to sleep last night and imagined all that rubbish! Ha!

Joyfully, he returned to his hovel in the city, where he was greeted by his little family.

Back already? You said you’d be up at the pastures a whole lunar month.

Ah! I had an urge to come back and make sure you were all well.
























	

















	














One small detail disturbed his contentment . . .

Strange! In my nightmare, there was a tall young tree here—and here’s a sapling that will grow into just such a tree in about three years’ time! And I hadn’t noticed it before.

Later that year, on Air-Fleet Day, the Trigan Empire was given over to a national holiday. Narri and his family joined the jubilant crowds.

Here comes the Air Fleet!

The pride of the Trigan Empire flashed over the great city in faultless formation.

As part of the celebrations, a certain ceremony was held in the throne-room of the Imperial Palace.

Ossan, I appoint you Marshal-in-Chief of the Trigan Air Fleet . . .

Narri saw it relayed, live—along with thousands of others—in the Great Square.

Its Ossan! The traitor! The one who wiped out the Imperial Family and set himself up as Dictator!

It was then that Narri realised what had happened to him.

Narri! What’s come over you? Everyone’s staring at us!

It’s just as Roffa told it to me! Only, it’s all in the future!

When I fell asleep on that mountain side, I was granted a vision of what will be taking place here in three years’ time!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 571 on 23 December 1972.

 
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The Lost Years (continued . . .)

















	














Narri picked himself up, and ran in terror—anywhere, to get away from the waking nightmare in which he had just found himself.

Mad! That’s what he is—mad!

You’d better watch out, or you’ll end up in the punishment mines!

He did not pause till he came to the Great Square of the city.

Everything’s changed overnight—everything! what’s that statue doing there, in place of the Emperor’s statue?

By all the stars! Those slain figures represent the Emperor, his brother Brag, and the lord Janno! But what does this mean?

He read the astounding inscription.

“All hail the mighty Ossan, who saved our people from the tyrant Trigo and his brood, in the third year of Ziss . . .“

Nervously, Narri threw a question at a passing urchin.

Er . . . little fellow . . . do you know what year it is?

The sixth year of Ziss, of course! Everybody knows that!

What’s happened to me? Yesterday, I went to sleep up on the hillside, and I wake up three lunar years later!

At that moment, there came a sudden stir at the far corner of the Great Square.

All hail Ossan!
























	














Narri caught his first, brief glimpse of the man who was to play such an important part in his life—and whose life he, in turn, was to change so greatly.

That is Ossan?

More questions teemed in Narri’s mind. He asked a man standing next to him . . .

The people don’t seem very enthusiastic about their ruler. Isn’t he popular?

You want to be careful what you’re saying, fellow!

A few moments later, Narri saw that the man had sidled over to a police officer.

He’s reporting what I said just now! I’m in trouble!

Narri took to his heels.

Hey, you! Stop! Stop, I say!

The panic-stricken young peasant was stopping for no one. He fled out of the city, and headed towards the hills.

Somehow . . . somewhere . . . I have lost three lunar years out of my life! And . . . and in that time, the Trigan Empire, as I knew it, has finished!

And then—the roar of engines, and a harsh order!

Halt—or perish!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 569 on 9 December 1972.