The Cessation of Karrak: Ascension III (The Karrak Trilogy Part Three Book 3)

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The Cessation of Karrak: Ascension III (The Karrak Trilogy Part Three Book 3) Page 10

by Robert J Marsters


  Yello was becoming agitated, “Karrak has used you and now leaves you to perish. Join us, at least you’ll have a chance of revenge.”

  “Join you?” bellowed Barden. Raising his arm, he chanted and flung his arms forward.

  Yello raised one eyebrow as he folded his arms, “Feel better now, Barden?” he asked. “Just a tip… magic won’t work in here.”

  ***

  Lodren and Grubb were discussing their time spent in Borell as they sat by the campfire. They both jumped slightly as, with a slight shimmer, Faylore appeared before them.

  “You frightened the life out me!” exclaimed Lodren. “Can’t you stamp your feet as you’re approaching to give us a bit of a warning?”

  Faylore looked down her nose at him, “I am the Queen of Thedar, Lodren,” she said haughtily, “I would never stamp my feet.”

  “Rustle the grass or somethin’ then,” said Grubb. “We could’ve attacked ye, not knowin’ who ye were.”

  Faylore gave him a wry smile, “I’ll take my chances,” she said.

  “Did you see anything interesting on your travels, Faylore? Anybody about?”

  “No, Lodren,” she replied, “I even climbed the tallest tree I could find. Nothing is moving, not even the beasts.”

  “That’s not good,” said Lodren, pursing his lips. “There are always animals mooching about after dark. Something’s scared them if you ask me.”

  “Do ye think it could be a dragon?” asked Grubb, smirking.

  “Don’t be silly, Grubb,” replied Faylore, frowning. “You know perfectly well that there aren’t any dragons around here.”

  “If you say so, Your Majesty,” said Grubb, still smiling.

  “You two are acting very strange,” said Faylore, “I mean, more strangely than usual, but at least you’ve stopped bickering.”

  “Well, a pack o’ wolves tryin’ to ‘ave ye for dinner kinda takes the edge off a good argument,” sighed Grubb.

  “Oh, my word!” exclaimed Faylore, “Grubb, you poor thing. Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  “Not a scratch, Majesty. I’m fine,” laughed Grubb.

  “That’s because it was me they came after,” said Lodren, taking a playful swipe at Grubb.

  “Oh, Lodren! I’m so sorry. I should not have left you by yourself. You could have been killed!”

  “Are you kiddin’?” spluttered Grubb, spilling the fruit juice he was drinking. “You’ve seen ‘im swing that ‘ammer! It’s the wolves I feel sorry for. Stumpy ‘ere bawlin’ at ‘em and swingin his anvil on a stick!”

  “Don’t be horrible, Grubb! What if he’d stumbled, or one of them had sneaked around behind him?” suggested Faylore, suddenly grabbing Lodren’s head and pulling it into her chest.

  “’e squashed a zingaard’s ‘ead with one bash! What chance do ye think wolves would ‘ave against ‘im?” protested Grubb.

  Lodren never spoke. He just sat there with a dreamy grin on his face as Faylore held him in a vice-like embrace.

  “Look at ‘im!” exclaimed Grubb, “e’s lovin’ the attention!”

  “Don’t be silly,” cooed Faylore, “he’s probably in shock, the poor dear.”

  “He wandered the wilds for years by ‘imself and survived, do ye think one mangy pack o’ wolves could get the better of ‘im?”

  “That’s beside the point, Grubb. They were different times. The world is a far more dangerous place now. Well neither of you shall be left alone from now on, you must have an escort at all times.”

  “It’s nice of ye to offer to hold our hand every time we need to be alone, Faylore, but there’s only one of you, even you can’t be in two places at once.”

  “I know that, Grubb, but I wasn’t suggesting that I accompany you.”

  “I don’t see anyone else here, Your Majesty. Or do ye have an invisible friend?”

  Faylore smiled, “Not invisible exactly,” she replied, “more… hidden.” She raised her arm and gave a small gesture toward the darkness. One by one, six Thedarians appeared with a shimmer.

  “Oh, Faylore!” exclaimed Lodren, “You’ve found your friends.”

  “Well, to be honest, they found me,” replied Faylore.

  Lodren jumped up and ran over to the newly-arrived Thedarians, “Hello, hello,” he said excitedly, shaking each one by the hand. They all had the same puzzled expression on their faces and were as aloof as Faylore had been when they had met her for the first time, many years before. “Can I get you all something?” asked Lodren. “You must be hungry,” he added as he raced over to his pots and pans.

  They graciously declined, insisting that they were fine and needed no repast. Faylore did her best to calm the Nibby but his yearning to start catering for their guests had overwhelmed him and it took some time before he would accept that they were in no need of any refreshment.

  “Well if you need anything, anything, no matter what or the lateness of the hour, you just ask,” he urged.

  “’ave ye finished?” asked Grubb, staring at Lodren. “Only I was just wonderin’, what are they doin’ all the way out ‘ere? Why are they so far away from home?”

  “You can thank my mother for that, Grubb,” replied Faylore. “She worries about me constantly and has sent scouts far and wide to locate me.”

  “Why?” asked Grubb, “I mean, I know she’s your mom an’ all that, but why now? Yer not in any danger, well no more than usual and she’s well aware that ye can take care o’ yerself.”

  “She’s also aware of what is contained in the Peneriphus Scroll, Grubb.”

  “But she doesn’t have the scroll anymore,” Lodren said, “I thought Emnor had it.”

  “But she has read it, or had before it disappeared from the hall of history,” replied Faylore.

  “So why is she so concerned? She can’t have seen it for centuries,” suggested Grubb.

  “That is true,” said Faylore, “but unlike my father in his final years, there is nothing wrong with her memory. Being Thedarian, she can remember the slightest detail of any written work once she has read it, regardless of the passage of time.”

  “So, she knows all about Karrak and his shenanigans?” said Grubb, quietly.

  “Precisely, hence the scouting parties.”

  Lodren was becoming a little nervous, but questions were racing through his head and he simply had to ask, “Your friends, Faylore. Have they seen anything on their travels? Anything bad, I mean.”

  Faylore took a deep breath, “Not seen, but there are terrible rumours. Rumours of countless dead, men and women.”

  “So Karrak has been killing indiscriminately again!” exclaimed Lodren. “I bet he didn’t even have the decency to build a pyre and give them an honourable send off, probably just left them to rot where they lay!”

  “It is far worse than that, my dear. The dead are not at peace, they still walk. He has created an entire undead army, animated by necromancy.”

  “What!” exclaimed Grubb, “Why would he do somethin’ like that? Surely ‘e doesn’t need soldiers, not with the amount o’ black magic ‘e’s got runnin’ through ‘im!”

  “No, I agree, Grubb. He doesn’t need them, but he enjoys striking terror into the hearts of innocents and what better way than to put the walking corpse of a loved one against their own kin?”

  “I wish Jared and the others were with us, we could set off right now!” roared Lodren. “When I see Karrak I’m going to crush him with my hammer. I’ll break every bone in his body and show him what it’s like to be scared.”

  Grubb stared across at Faylore, a slight smirk on his face, “Wolves?”

  ***

  “Tell me, boy. What happened to the first?”

  Xarran glanced across at Karrak, “The first?” he asked.

  “The first-born son. You are the second or you would not be here.”

  “Oh, him. Bad news, I’m afraid, Father. He’s no longer with us. Passed away suddenly, didn’t even show any signs of being ill beforehand. V
ery strange, if you ask me,” he laughed.

  “You murdered your own brother?”

  “Brother?” replied Xarran, curling his lip. “He was a stranger to me. Just another one of your illegitmate offspring whose mother was paid off to protect the precious name of Dunbar.”

  “Regardless of his origins, he was still your brother.”

  “As Jared is yours,” snapped Xarran, “but that didn’t stop you trying to kill him. Oh, yes, you failed, didn’t you? Twice.”

  “The man who was Karrak Dunbar failed, but I am not he. I am Lord Karrak, keeper of the Elixian Soul. No mere mortal can hinder me.”

  “Is that so? Go on then, Lord Karrak, show me your power. Strike me down, try setting your pet ghouls against me. No? Why not? Because you can’t,” bellowed Xarran. “Pay heed, sorcerer. The Elixian Soul is destined to be mine, and be mine it shall. Whether by my hand or that of another, you will perish, and the future you envisage will be yours no longer. The future belongs to me.”

  Karrak’s eyes flashed red as he charged toward Xarran. Raising his arms, he towered above his intended victim but as he tried to strike Xarran, a force not conjured by Xarran himself, blew him backwards across the room. An ordinary man, or wizard, would have been felled by the blast, but Karrak remained upright, his breath rasping as if he had suffered an immense blow to the chest.

  “Impressive boy, most impressive,” he rasped, “But mark my words boy, you will regret what has taken place this day.”

  Xarran laughed, mockingly, “More threats? What way is that to speak to your only son?” Backing away, he pointed at Karrak with both hands before spinning on his heel and walking away, his laughter still echoing through the chamber.

  CHAPTER 7

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Same as always, we’re waiting for them to decide what their next move will be.”

  The Gerrowliens were on the roof of the tavern, Poom swinging his legs over the edge, showing his boredom. “No, Lawton, that’s not what I meant. I meant, what are we doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? We’re helping our friends.”

  “But they don’t need our help!” exclaimed Poom. “With Emnor and Yello alone, they have all they need to defeat Karrak and his cronies.”

  “Is that what you honestly believe, Poom? That we are somehow surplus to requirements?”

  “They’re wizards, Lawton. They have unlimited magic at their disposal. We have to use a flint if we need to start a fire, they conjure a flame out of thin air.”

  “But they cannot produce water in an arid environment, or had you forgotten that? If not for us, they all would have died of thirst.”

  “Oh, yes, I had forgotten that,” admitted Poom.

  “Neither can they detect a foe by their body heat through trees and bushes. When the hissthaar attacked in Cheadleford things could have gone terribly wrong but for our keen eyesight and reflexes.”

  Poom stroked his cheek, “Yeesss,” he said slowly, “I’d forgotten about that as well.”

  “So, do you still think that our friends will not benefit from our involvement in this adventure of theirs?”

  “Yes, alright, we’ve helped a couple of times, I’ll admit,” began Poom, “but our skills didn’t stop us being turned into trees by Jendilomin, did they? We weren’t much help then.”

  “The others were transformed as well, Poom. Even Faylore and that four-armed beast that Grubb turns into were taken unaware. There was no way we could have prepared for such a thing,” Lawton assured him.

  “Exactly my point!”

  “What is?” asked Lawton, looking a little confused.

  “Coping with tough terrain and beasts is one thing, Lawton. But it won’t be that simple from now on, I fear,” replied Poom. “Soon we’ll be facing Karrak, and if he has all his sorcerer sidekicks with him, what help can we be?”

  Lawton chuckled as he looked at Poom, “I’ve never seen you concerned about an impending battle before, Poom. It makes quite a pleasant change. What’s the matter, worried that the nasty man will burn a bit more of your fur off?”

  “This is no time for jokes, Lawton, I’m serious! And don’t think that I’m afraid either. If it came down to just me and Karrak, I’d still tear him apart before he could even think of casting a spell, let alone perform one!”

  “Now that’s the Gerrowlien I know, fearless and stupid to the last,” laughed Lawton.

  “Exactly, and if I… oh, thanks very much!”

  “Trust me, Poom,” said Lawton, the tone of his voice becoming deadly serious, “if it does come down to just you and Karrak… run. Run as fast as your legs will carry you and don’t look back. Go home, gather the rest of the tribe and get as far away as possible.”

  “You know me better than anyone, Lawton. I could never flee from battle!”

  “This will be a battle like no other, Poom. This is no skirmish over lands or wealth, Karrak has no interest in such trivial matters. He means to extinguish all life from our world!”

  “But why destroy everyone? What would he have to show for it? Surely, he’d want slaves, or at least a few survivors to lord over and torment?”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? If it were Karrak then perhaps, but it is no longer his will that calls the tune, this is the will of that… Elixian… thingy. The man that was Karrak has long since been consumed by it.”

  “You’ve really bought into this magical mumbo-jumbo, haven’t you, Lawton?”

  “More than you would believe, my friend. The one thing that worries me more than any other, is Jared.”

  “Jared!” exclaimed Poom, “Why would you be concerned about him?”

  “He’s changed, Poom. A change that I see manifesting itself more as time goes on. I watched his face as he tortured that zingaard, there wasn’t the slightest hint of emotion, not even as he thrust his hand into its guts. I fear that, when faced with his brother, he may feel that they are more alike than he could possibly have imagined. That pause would give Karrak an advantage. If Jared hesitates or is unable to bring himself to destroy his brother, it could spell his doom. The thought that haunts my mind more than any other however, is that if he feels an empathy toward his sibling, he may join him.”

  “Never!” growled Poom. “Jared is nothing like his brother! He’d willingly lay down his life before being a part of Karrak’s insanity.”

  Lawton lowered his head and peered up at his friend, “I hope you’re right, Poom. I sincerely hope you’re right.”

  ***

  “This isn’t looking good, Emnor. His skin’s going grey. You should give him a slap and bring him round if you ask me.”

  Emnor peered at Hannock, “Advice like that is precisely why nobody asks you, Captain. One does not ‘slap’ the wizard who is linked to another’s mind! It could cause irreparable harm. Yello has joined two minds and that is far more dangerous, to force him out could kill him,” he sighed.

  “He is looking a bit peaky, Master Emnor,” said Drake. “We have to do something.”

  “Indeed,” replied Emnor thoughtfully. “Only one thing for it,” he announced, “I must join him.”

  “No!” exclaimed Harley, “You’re far too important! I’ll do it, I’ve read how it works.”

  “You can both forget it!” announced Drake, “If anyone’s going in, it’ll be me. I don’t do anything else lately, so if it goes wrong, I won’t be missed.”

  Hannock sidled behind the two younger wizards, “Neither of you will do anything, unless you are instructed to,” he snapped, grabbing each by the nape of the neck. “And we’ll hear no more about anyone being expendable,” he added, releasing Drake long enough to slap him in the back of his head.

  “You were obviously determined that someone got slapped around the head then?” laughed Jared.

  “What can I say?” replied Hannock, grinning, “I just got lucky.”

  Taking Emnor gently by the arm, Jared steered him away to the corner of the room, “This joining th
ing, how does it work, exactly?”

  “Now is not the time for lessons, Jared. I’ll explain it to you later, for now I must help Yello.”

  “That’s my point,” said Jared. “You see…” he whispered, “… I agree with the boys. Therefore, I’ll be the one joining with Yello, not you.”

  “But you’ve never done anything like this before,” protested Emnor. “It’s far too dangerous for, if you’ll forgive my bluntness, a mere novice.”

  Jared smiled, “So I’m capable of facing the most powerful sorcerer in existence, but not of learning enough to converse with someone in a dream?”

  “It’s not the same, Jared!” replied Emnor in a pleading tone. “To face a real danger is one thing and you’ve proven on more than one occasion that you can easily defend yourself. But what you may see in there is not real and can be most confusing, who knows what you would be facing.”

  “But it’s only a construct of someone’s mind, Emnor, a dream! Surely nothing can harm me in there?”

  “In most cases I’d say not,” replied Emnor. “However, Yello is joined with two of Karrak’s most loyal followers and they are powerful sorcerers in their own right.”

  “You’d better make your instruction clear then,” said Jared placing his hand on Emnor’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Emnor, I’ll bring our friend back. I can’t make any promises regarding our enemies though,” he added, gesturing toward the prostrate figures of Barden and Darooq.

  Reluctantly, Emnor began instructing Jared on the secrets of joining with the minds of others. Jared understood the dangers, but it seemed straightforward enough and he had no concerns regarding its execution. He questioned Emnor on a few intricacies, making sure that he could follow his mentor’s advice to the letter and, within the hour, insisted that he was ready. Standing directly behind Yello, he raised his hands.

  “Now remember, Jared,” Emnor warned him, “you will have little control over what takes place in there. Empty your mind, stay calm and most of all, watch your back.”

 

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