Emnor leaned forward and tapped Hannock’s arm, “I’m afraid he has us at a disadvantage, Captain. Let us do as he asks. If anything happens up there, stay clear. We wizards need no weapons.” He turned to the others and nodded.
It began to rain as each of the companions disarmed themselves. Lodren was the first, laying down his huge hammer as a makeshift table for the others to use, “No sense in putting them down in the mud,” he whispered, “I have a feeling we’ll be needing them shortly.”
They resumed their ascent.
“Wait!” rasped Xarran. The companions paused. “Drake, Harley, your wands. You must leave them too, Lord Karrak knows about them.”
Drake frowned, “How would he know about our wands?” he whispered to Emnor, his suspicion aroused by Xarran’s instruction.
“Look at him, Drake. He’s terrified. He’s been tortured, goodness only knows for how long. I’m sure that not a single detail of our exploits remains a secret to Karrak. Do as he says, place your wands on the weapons pile. You’ll have to use your gifts in the traditional manner should the need arise, I’m afraid.”
“Bloody hours I spent testing these!” Drake chuntered as he took Harley’s wand and placed it with his own on Lodren’s hammer, “And the first time it seems we may really need them, we have to leave them behind!”
Emnor raised his voice, “We are unarmed, may we approach?” he shouted up the hill. Xarran was dragged away from the edge unceremoniously by the ghoulish guard. The companions exchanged brief glances and followed, Yello, once again being carried by Wilf.
As they cleared the ridge they were surprised to find themselves on a large plateau. Flat and sparsely covered by dried grass, they were relieved to have firm footing. A treeline lay at the far end, silent flashes of lightning illuminating the scene before them as the rain grew heavier. Half way, Xarran was prone on the ground, his kidnapper cruelly grinding his face into the mud with the heel of his heavy boot.
“Call off your dog, Karrak!” roared Hannock. “Or I’ll do it for you! Come on, show yourself, or are you too much of a coward to face an unarmed man?”
There was a movement amongst the trees. Slowly, a shadowy figure emerged, flanked by a hoard of undead minions. Hannock began to march toward them.
“Hannock, no!” pleaded Xarran. “Don’t antagonise him!”
The monstrous figure removed its foot from Xarran’s head and began to lurch toward Hannock. As it grew closer, it unsheathed its black broadsword and held it aloft. Facing Hannock, it swung it full force, but the captain was far too experienced to fall for such a crude attack. Arching back, he watched as the blade passed above him, and grabbed the assailant’s arm. Ducking under its armpit, he twisted with all his might, relieving the monster of both its sword, and its decaying arm. Placing his heel against his opponent’s side, he kicked it away and spun around, cleaving its head cleanly from its neck. Hannock glared at Karrak.
“If this…” he screamed, pointing at his fallen foe, “… is all you have, I suggest you start running NOW.”
The hoard of ghouls surrounded Karrak. Hannock raised the sword with both hands, touching the blade against his nose. He closed his eyes momentarily, preparing himself for battle as he took his stance. But his enemy did not approach.
Unexpectedly, Karrak raised his arm above his head. There was a bright flash and an explosion that made the ground shake, but it had not come from Karrak. Hannock was confused, was it thunder? Then, he heard a second blast, and the sound of Emnor’s voice screaming, “… NO!”
Hannock turned, a look of horror appearing on his face. Yello lay on the ground, his robes smouldering as Emnor attempted to douse the small flames that licked around his friend’s body. Just behind them, lay another victim, but Hannock could not make out who it was. From what he could see, all were accounted for, so who was the stranger? Hannock began to panic… Jared. Dropping the sword, he ran back to his friends, dread in his heart at the thought of losing his lifelong friend. “Jared!” he called as he reached them.
Drake grabbed his shoulders, “Calm down, Hannock,” he said hurriedly. “It’s not Jared. It was Darooq!”
No-one had noticed Darooq as he had followed them from the village. He had tailed them every step of the way, watching and waiting for events to unfold. At last, it seemed he had chosen his moment to strike.
“Is Yello dead?” asked Hannock.
“No, he’s still alive,” Drake replied, shakily. “But it doesn’t look good. I don’t think he’ll survive!”
Emnor clutched his friend’s hand, tears in his eyes, “Come on now, you old coot. It’s only a scratch, you’re going to be fine.”
Yello reached up, wiping a solitary tear from Emnor’s cheek. He smiled weakly, “Not this time, old friend,” he whispered. “You must act quickly, I must be drawn.”
Emnor recoiled, “No!” he exclaimed, “I could never… Yello, you would surely die.”
“I’m not going to survive anyway,” smiled Yello, “but a thousand years of knowledge cannot be lost, my friend. Someone must draw it before I take the eternal sleep.”
“This makes no sense, why would Darooq wait until now to attack? He had countless opportunities whilst we were in the village.” Emnor sneered at the body of the sorcerer, “Well, he’s dead now, I made sure of that. I should have finished him when we first discovered him.”
“That’s not very gracious of you, Emnor.”
The companions turned to see who had spoken. It was Jared.
“You always taught me that all life is sacred, yet you seem to feel no remorse at killing the man who saved your life.”
“What!” exclaimed Emnor. “What do you mean, saved my life?”
“Yello was going to kill you. Darooq saw what he was about to do and stepped in, so to speak.”
“Nonsense!” yelled Emnor. “Why would Yello want me dead?”
“He didn’t, but Karrak does,” Jared replied, softly.
“I know you all think I’m a bit thick,” Drake announced. “Sorry, but could you please tell me what the bloody hell you’re talking about, Jared.”
“Don’t you think it strange that the only person to survive the attack on Reiggan just happened to be the best friend of the head?”
“Pure coincidence,” snorted Emnor.
“I’m afraid not, Emnor,” replied Jared. “He was left there deliberately by Karrak. He knew that he’d be accepted into the fold without question. A puppet in the enemy camp, with him pulling the strings.”
Emnor gazed into his friend’s eyes as he cradled his head, “Yello, is this true?”
“It wasn’t me, I… I tried to resist him but he took control! Forgive me, I never even remembered doing it until Jared mentioned it.”
“We all know how good Karrak is at controlling the minds of others, Yello cannot be blamed for his actions,” Jared stooped down and patted the old man’s hand.
“Jared,” whispered Yello, “I have a final request. I must be drawn, you must take my powers. It will help you defeat Karrak.”
“Speaking of which…” uttered Hannock, clearing his throat and pointing across the plateau.
“Oh, him!” laughed Jared. “Don’t worry about him. That’s not Karrak.”
“Not Karrak!” exclaimed Drake. “Well who is it then?”
“Not really sure,” replied Jared. “But we’ll know in a few minutes.”
“How?” asked Harley. “Are you going to face him?”
“No need,” said Jared, calmly. “Our allies will discover his identity soon enough.”
“Allies? What allies?”
“You’ll see them shortly, Drake. Subtlety is not one of their strong points.”
Yello was becoming agitated, “Jared, you must… you must perform the drawing ritual, before it is too late.”
“I already have,” replied Jared. “Joined to the Heart of Ziniphar as I am, I can take the powers of any witch or wizard with the slightest touch. Only if it is for the purpose of usi
ng it for good, I should add.”
“So, you took Yello’s power just by touching his hand?” gasped Drake.
“Yes, and it is far less painful than it would have been if performed in the ancient, traditional way.”
Emnor smiled, “There you are, old friend, you have your last wish, now, let’s see about getting you healed.” Emnor looked upon his friend’s face. His eyes were closed and he looked more peaceful than Emnor had seen him in years. “Yello... Yello?” Emnor took his hand, and wept.
The trees behind Karrak quivered. Two luminous green-skinned bodies appeared, one directly behind Karrak. Ramah roared as he thrust two swords through the shadowy figure, both running clean through and steaming as if just removed from the forge. Karrak looked down in shock, his body shaking, his arms reaching out in disbelief and confusion. Black smoke poured from his form, flakes of ash drifting from its features, floating fleetingly in the breeze before dissipating. His mouth fell open, but instead of crumbling completely, normal, smooth skin could be seen beneath the disguise. Jared was correct, the figure that stood before them was not Karrak… it was Alex.
Xarran rose to his feet. Looking back at Alex, he let out a piercing scream, “He was mine!” he bellowed. “He belonged to me and you took him away!” The rain had become torrential, washing away the blood from Xarran’s face. The gash in his forehead healed miraculously and the raw patch on his skull vanished. His wounds, it seemed, were all part of some elaborate ruse. “I’m going to kill every last one of you! I’m going to torture you, slice you, burn you, dismember you! You’ll wish you’d never been...”
The dull thud of the arrow and the cracking of bone could not be heard from where Faylore stood. Realising his madness, she had decided his fate. Her bow still raised, she watched as Xarran stood momentarily, his lips still moving but uttering no words. She blinked, the rain dripping from her long lashes as she witnessed him fall, grateful for the downpour that disguised her tears.
The companions charge their remaining foe!
***
Karrak, seated on the throne in Merrsdan, pondered over what he had seen through Alex’s eyes. Xarran had acted impetuously and with less composure than a petulant child, thereby sealing his own fate. Perhaps his death was a release for them both? What concerned him was the ease with which his enemies had despatched his forces. The rage of the swordsman, the ferocity of the dergon, the speed of the Gerrowliens and the swift accuracy of the Thedarian were things that only a fool would ignore. But why had the wizards not taken part? Did they believe that they were not needed to defeat such a small force?
Karrak rose from the throne and swept across the room. Staring through the doorway, he watched as his undead guards shuffled aimlessly around the halls. They would obviously not be enough of a distraction when the time came to face his greatest adversary. Karrak knew that his only real nemesis was Prince Jared. He had sensed his power long before Xarran had made his fatal mistake. He was unsure of how Jared had achieved his new strength. He ran his hand over the Elixian Soul. He must have found something, an ancient relic or artefact to rival his own, he thought. Drifting back and forth, he considered his options. Should he have done with it, and face Jared sooner rather than later? No, that was the mistake the boy had made. He would bide his time and strike only when he was ready. “I need more,” he whispered to himself.
***
The green flames of the funeral pyre dissipated as the companions began to disperse. They instinctively headed toward the village. For whatever reason, Drake and Harley, their arms around one another’s shoulders, ambled away in the opposite direction. Hannock was about to call them back, but Emnor placed his hand on the captain’s arm and shook his head. Hannock nodded in understanding. He, having served in the military for so long, was used to losing people close to him. He sighed as he watched the two yound wizards, knowing that no words would comfort them.
Reaching the village, they entered the tavern. Hannock headed straight for the bar. “We leave at first light,” he growled.
“For where?” asked Emnor. “We still have no idea where Karrak is.”
“Exactly!” growled Hannock. “But we aren’t going to find him sitting on our arses in here!”
“Charles, please!” exclaimed Faylore, “There’s no need for crudity.”
Hannock snorted, “And tell me, why did we bring back the body of that sorcerer? We should have left his mangy carcass for the beasts to tear apart.”
“In his defence…” said Jared, quietly, “… Darooq did save Emnor’s life.”
“According to you!” exclaimed Hannock. “None of us witnessed it.”
“Do you doubt my word, Hannock? Do you think I would defend a guilty man?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore!” snapped Hannock, turning to face him. “You’ve been gone for days, yet somehow you manage to be right there when you were needed! And what about that thing in the woods, the ball of light that knocked me off my feet when I tried to reach you?”
Jared lowered his head, “Hannock, you are my dearest friend. I could never harm you, I could never harm any of you.”
“How sincere you sound… a bit like your brother to be honest. He tends to plead innocence, right up until he stabs you in the back!”
“Hannock, that’s enough!” roared Emnor. “How dare you accuse your prince! Apologise at once!”
“Apologise! Give me some answers, at least I’ll understand what the apology is for. We don’t know where he’s been or what he’s been doing. Look at his eyes, Emnor! Does the light behind them seem natural to you? Oh, we’ll just ignore it, shall we? What if Karrak got to him? Imagine that, we come face to face with a homicidal maniac, only to discover that we’re harbouring another one within our own ranks!”
“Mr Captain, sir. You can’t say things like that about Prince Jared. He’s been as good as…”
Jared held up his hand, “Lodren… he’s right,” he sighed. “The last few days have been our greatest test and I don’t blame him for his suspicions. But it was not by choice that I abandoned you for those few days.”
“So you would have us believe that you were a prisoner, that you were held captive within that ball of light? That, despite the powers you now hold, you were unable to escape its grasp and return to us?” asked Hannock.
“In a way, yes. However, I was not being held entirely against my will,” replied Jared. “The light was the Heart of Ziniphar. It knew that I would be vulnerable once I went into a trance and generated that wall merely to protect me.”
“What’d ye have to go in a trance for, was it showing ye somethin’, somethin’ that can help ye beat Karrak?”
“Yes, Grubb… and no, not specifically,” replied Jared.
“Oh, that’ll help then,” scoffed Grubb. “Teaches ye somethin’, but doesn’t! Makes perfect sense, that!”
Jared gave him a sideways glance, “The Heart is ancient,” he began, “it pre-dates every scroll and tome in existence. It wanted to show me everything, and that takes time. Forgotten magic of how to fight pure evil now resides within me, Grubb. The Heart of Ziniphar has no desires, it has no specific destiny to destroy a person or thing that would do harm. It is pure, it wants all evil to be eradicated from the world.”
“So, it has taught you something that will help us beat Karrak then, Mr Jared?”
Jared smiled at Lodren, “It has taught me far more than that, my friend. It has shown me how to destroy that which possesses him. I know how to destroy the Elixian Soul!”
***
The door to the tavern opened quietly. All eyes turned to see Poom and Lawton looking a little sheepish.
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Poom. “It’s just that… well, we thought you might want this.” He produced Yello’s staff from behind his back. “We don’t mean to be indelicate but, even if you don’t want it, it shouldn’t be left out in the open for anyone else to tamper with.”
Emnor stared at the staff. Memories of his friend floode
d his mind as he fought to contain his grief. “Quite right,” he said, his false confidence visible to all. “Give it… erm, just put it over by the bar, there’s a good chap. I’ll decide what must be done with it later.”
“Your friend died for a cause he believed in, and you should take both pride and solace in that,” said Lawton. “He would not want you to grieve over him until your task is done, and the greatest honour you could do him would be to use his own staff to avenge his death,” he added as he headed for the door.
“Thank you, my friend,” Emnor called after him, “I know that Yello would have appreciated those kind words.”
“Before you go,” said Hannock, “could you do me a favour? See if you can find that bloody blacksmith and get me my sword back, would you? I feel naked without it.”
Drake and Harley had followed the Gerrowliens into the tavern. Drake shuddered at Hannock’s last statement, “Not a pleasant thought,” he mumbled. “Ooh, is that Yello’s staff?” he asked excitedly.
Emnor looked suspiciously at him, “Yes, it is,” he replied slowly. “Why?”
“Well if you’re going to use it, Master Emnor, it’ll have to be tested first. Who knows what kind of curses and hexes he put on it to keep it safe! And let’s face it, I’m the best tester there is.”
“And the luckiest!” added Harley. “You should’ve been splattered to the four winds so many times but you’re still standing here, being as annoying as ever.”
“There you go, a rousing affirmation by my colleague, I’ve survived every explosion, burn… annoying?”
“The boy has spirit,” announced Poom. “Admittedly it’s mixed with insanity, but he does have spirit.”
Drake frowned, it was the kind of compliment he could do without.
“There’ll be no testing,” announced Jared. “No explosions, no burns, nothing. So, you won’t be getting your hands on that staff, Drake,” he added, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Something tells me you should stick to using that fabulous wand you created.”
The Cessation of Karrak: Ascension III (The Karrak Trilogy Part Three Book 3) Page 18
