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

by Robert J Marsters

  “Grubb’s going to lead Poom and Lawton back to us,” he informed them. “Calculating the route we came underground, well a rough calculation anyway, we think they could be with us in an hour or so. We’re going to carry on anyway, so, when you’re ready,” he added rubbing his hands together.

  “Are your hands cold?” asked Faylore.

  Hannock looked at his palms, “No, why?”

  “Why are you rubbing them together then? Is there a circulation problem? Is there something I can do to help?”

  Hannock looked at her, baffled, “No, it’s… well it’s…” Faylore had reverted to typical Thedarian mode. “Oh no, I’m not getting wound up in that nonsense again,” he winced.

  Faylore smiled at Emnor, “Stops all the silly questions,” she whispered.

  ***

  “You shouldn’t do it,” protested Lorzic, “It’s not natural!”

  “And turning into a bear is, I suppose?” laughed Hannock.

  “This is not your concern! You wouldn’t understand, you’re far too large and stupid!”

  Jared nudged his friend, “And there I was thinking that they were always wrong,” he sniggered.

  “Ye can’t tell me what’s right and what ain’t anymore, Lorzic,” argued Grubb. “I’ll do what I want, and if I choose to turn into a hawk and fly it’s my business alone!”

  “We do not turn into anything that flies!” continued Lorzic.

  “No, you don’t turn into anything that flies. I, on the other ‘and, do it all the time.”

  Hannock nodded, “He does you know, I’ve seen him do it,” he said, smirking.

  “But…”

  “The reason none of the villagers turn into birds… is ‘cause you banned them from doin’ it!” bawled Grubb, “An’ why? ‘cause you’re scared o’ heights, ye chicken.”

  “That is not true!” exclaimed Lorzic, “I outlawed it to keep our people safe! All it takes is a momentary lack of concentration and someone could plummet to their death.”

  Grubb waved his hand dismissively at Lorzic, “Just shove it, ye whinin’ little creep. I’m done wasting my time with ye.” Turning to the companions, he smiled. “See you lot later.” He transformed into an eagle and flew away.

  ***

  It wasn’t long before he was soaring above the entrance to the caverns they had used many hours before. His piercing raptor eyes scanned the ground and within seconds he spied the Gerrowliens. They were in exactly the same place as when they had parted from them, but they were not alone. Close by, lying perfectly still on the ground, was Bogg. Grubb began his descent. Landing close to Poom and Lodren, he transformed. Poom made the slightest twitch to reach for his spear but, realising it was their friend, relaxed once more. Grubb could find no words, he pointed at Bogg.

  “Yes,” said Poom, thoughtfully, “Most strange. It came hurtling out of the caverns a few hours ago. We had no idea what to make of it.”

  Grubb sighed, “Is he… dead?” he asked slowly.

  “Not sure,” replied Lawton, “It hasn’t moved for quite a while, so I suppose it’s possible. Hang on, you said he. Don’t you mean it?”

  “No, I mean he. He helped us find the artefacts for Lorzic. I suppose ye could say he’s a friend.”

  “Well, you lot have a strange choice in friends, if you don’t mind me saying so,” said Poom, lazily.

  Lawton shook his head, “Do you even realise what you just said, Poom?”

  “He knows what I mean.”

  “How badly did ye wound ‘im?” asked Grubb, “Do ye think I could fix ‘im?”

  “We never wounded it at all, we never even touched it!” Lawton assured him. “It saw us when it emerged and started talking to us. Kept on about being a good thing and not wanting to be a dead thing.”

  “Yes,” added Poom, “and that he helped a nice thing find a shiny thing.”

  Lawton began his snarling laughter, “Seems like things are what they always were, or not.”

  “Yes,” continued Poom, “Why make some-thing out of no-thing.” The Gerrowliens were back to their usual, childish selves, which was most annoying for Grubb.

  “Will you two pack it in!” he cried, “If you didn’t hurt ‘im, why’s ‘e lyin’ on the ground like that?”

  Lawton padded gently toward Grubb and lay down to look him in the eye, “That’ll be because it’s asleep,” he whispered, “Shhh!”

  “Shut it, Lawton! I’m not in the mood for your mucking about, nor his,” said Grubb, nodding toward Poom, who just grinned.

  “I’m presuming you came to give us directions?” asked Lawton.

  “Yeah, but I’ve half a mind not to tell ye.”

  “Well, one part of your statement is correct at least. It’s not as if you could outrun us when you leave, is it?” sniggered Poom.

  Grubb gave Poom a filthy look, “Up yours!” he snapped. “Question is, ‘ow do we get ‘im back?”

  “You’re not suggesting we take it with us?!”

  “Yes, Lawton, we’re taking him with us,” replied Grubb. “We can’t leave ’im out here on his own, he’d never survive.”

  “Look at it, it’s huge! Massive claws, fangs bigger than my spearhead, what more would it need to defend itself? Then of course, it has its secret weapon. The smell! That alone could kill you from fifty feet!”

  “He’s a child, Lawton. He’s got no idea ‘ow to defend ‘imself. He can’t remember anything other than bein’ in a cage ‘e couldn’t even stand up in all his life!”

  “But, it’s a zingaard, it’ll learn. In a couple of weeks it’ll be tearing lumps out of anything that gets close, just like the rest of them,” argued Poom. “It’s their nature.”

  “Well that’s where you’re wrong, see. Bogg isn’t like that. He…” said Grubb, emphasising the word deliberately, “… is very calm. I suppose you could even say ‘e’s a bit of a coward.”

  The Gerrowliens guffawed with laughter, “Bogg?” roared Poom, “You couldn’t make it up, could you? Bogg! That’s hilarious.”

  It took a while, but eventually the Gerrowliens managed to compose themselves. Grubb roused Bogg and, transforming back into an eagle without the slightest reaction from the zingaard, they set off. Poom and Lawton soon disappeared into the distance, but Grubb was kind enough to circle back a few times so that Bogg would not get left behind.

  CHAPTER 16

  “Oh, my days, you’re serious!” exclaimed Lorzic.

  “It makes perfect sense to me,” replied Jared.

  It had been three days since their encounter with the hissthaar and now, many miles from Mallorkan caverns, in a very large, makeshift camp, they were debating exactly what they should do with the Vikkery.

  “You can’t expect us to give up our home just like that, we’ve been here for generations!”

  “Have you forgotten, Lorzic, your home no longer exists? There’s nothing but rubble and a few charred timbers to show that you were ever there,” said Hannock.

  “Perhaps!” snapped Lorzic, “But once we find a village and show them our artefacts, they’ll be more than happy to help us out. We’ll be able to borrow money and make a fresh start.”

  Jared sighed, “Lorzic, there are very few villages left, and the ones that remain have no coin to invest in the redevelopment of yours.”

  “We’ll find one, don’t you worry about that,” snorted Lorzic, “True, we may have to travel a little bit farther afield, but we’ll find one.”

  Faylore stared Lorzic in the eye, it was a look he could not ignore, “There are no villages,” she said angrily. “They have suffered the same fate as yours, or worse. The buildings have been razed to the ground and their occupants slain or enslaved by Karrak! Jared is offering you a haven and you throw it back in his face! You should be ashamed of yourself! Or do you prefer that your people become nothing but starving refugees wandering the lands so that you can hold on to an imaginary status and your precious trinkets?”

  Lorzic looked around nervously. A few
of the Vikkery had overheard their conversation and began chuntering amongst themselves. It seemed that they were not entirely happy with the way Lorzic had been running things in Pellandrin. They felt that he only had his own best interests at heart, not theirs.

  “Don’t we have a say in this?” called one.

  “What about the children?” shouted another, “Are we expected to raise them in the wilds?”

  “The kingdom is empty,” said Jared, sympathetically. “From the citadel to the outlying farms, Borell is silent. There are market places, shops, stables and dwellings for you all, if you so wish. You will have a place to call home, all you need do is make the journey.”

  Lorzic became agitated and began pacing, “Yes, it all sounds very nice. But once you’ve got us there, you’ll start imposing taxes! You’ll want more and more in payment for your precious kingdom until we are penniless, whilst you get fat from our labours!”

  Drake shook his head, “You just can’t help some people, can you?” he said, exasperated at Lorzic’s outburst.

  Lodren strolled slowly toward Lorzic, his own hammer in one hand and the silver one in the other. He allowed them to swing like pendulums as he walked, not once taking his eyes from the tiny figure of the Vikkery until he stood directly in front of him. The onlookers were silent, intrigued by the Nibby’s sudden approach. Lodren gripped the two hammers firmly in his muscular hands. He studied them for a second, first his own, then the other. Slowly, he raised them high into the air, then with a deafening crash, drove them both deep into the ground. He leaned down to Lorzic, “Say… you’re… sorry!” he whispered. Terror gripped Lorzic. He stared at the hammers that Lodren had driven a yard into the earth and then to Lodren’s rage-filled eyes, “Say you’re sorry, or I’ll do it again! Only next time, you’ll be underneath them.”

  The other Vikkery began to cheer. It seemed that Lorzic had abused his power for far longer than the companions had thought. They swarmed around Lodren, jumping up to pat him on the shoulder.

  The children hugged his legs, although his thighs were far too thick for any of them to wrap their arms around, and started chanting, “We’re going to live in a castle, we’re going to live in a castle.”

  Hannock smiled at Jared, “It seems…” he said, “… that the people have spoken.”

  ***

  There was much excitement over the next few days. Although the companions had suggested that the Vikkery return to Borell, they knew what an arduous journey they would have to face. They addressed the entire village and explained the possible dangers that may lie ahead. The hardy Vikkery remained undaunted, well, all but one.

  “You’ll never make it!” shouted Lorzic, “You’ll all be dead within a couple o’ days, you mark my words.”

  They all tried their best to ignore him as he wobbled through the crowd. It seemed he had a stash of wine somewhere and had deemed it appropriate to consume it by himself. “You’d rather believe some pretend prince in rusty armour than one of your own. Well go on then, push off! Get lost the lot o’ you. And you!” he shouted, waggling his finger at Lodren, “You… you, with your big muscles and that stupid fat head o’ yours… you can give me my things back. I want ‘em…” he lost his train of thought momentarily as he stared bleary-eyed at the spectators, “… What was I saying... Oh, my things… yes, my things, NOWWW,” he continued, belching out the last word.

  Lodren pursed his lips as he glanced around. Without a word, he lifted the silver hammer and marched up to Lorzic. The companions screwed up their eyes, Lodren did not take insults well, especially from someone who was drunk. To their surprise, he placed it on the ground at Lorzic’s feet. “There you go,” he said politely, “One hammer. But there is a catch. If you can manage to lift it by yourself, you can take it. And there’ll be no cheating. Transformation is not allowed.”

  Lorzic swayed back and forth, trying to focus on the Nibby’s blurred features, “Pffft, easy!” he replied. After his third attempt, he eventually managed to take hold of the handle. “Blasted thing keeps moving,” he mumbled. Then the fun began. He pulled, pushed, yanked and tugged as hard as he could, cursing the one who forged it for making it so heavy. “You won’t beat me!” he panted. “I’m leaving and you’re coming with me!”

  The crowd was in hysterics as they watched their former mayor making such a fool of himself. His pomposity and arrogance were gone, all that remained was his avarice as he tried in vain to lift the hammer. With a final grunt he fell face first into the dirt and began to snore loudly.

  Lodren was never one to bear a grudge. Grabbing Lorzic by his belt with one hand and the hammer with the other, he shrugged as he smiled at the crowd, “Maybe I should put these two to bed.”

  The crowd applauded. It seemed that they liked the performances that Lodren put on for them, as impromptu as they were. As he passed Jared, he paused, “I don’t think this will be the last we hear from this one,” he chuckled. “But at least he’s quiet for now.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Lodren,” agreed Jared, “He’ll be back with his tales of doom as soon as the drink wears off.”

  Lodren looked thoughtful, “Here, Drake,” he called, “you couldn’t just…” Holding the hammer with just his thumb, he wiggled his fingers and tilted his head toward Lorzic, “You know, just for a while? A few days, perhaps a week.”

  “No, he can not, Lodren! How could you even contemplate such a thing?” called Emnor in mock disgust, “That is not the discerning behaviour we have come to expect from such an admirable Nibby.”

  Lodren shrugged, “Just a thought,” he grinned, “I must be picking up bad habits from you lot.”

  ***

  It took far longer than Jared had hoped for the Vikkery to prepare for their journey. He felt a little guilty, but he was losing patience with them. He understood the hardships they were about to face, but they were so annoyingly precise in their needs that they sometimes made the Thedarians seem slipshod! Insisting on taking far more than seemed necessary, they had spent two days building handcarts. This was time the companions did not have, each realising that the longer it took to send the Vikkery on their way, the greater the chance that Karrak would slip from their grasp. “Lorzic,” he called as the disgruntled Vikkery passed him, “How much longer is this going to take? They’ve been at it for days!”

  Lorzic curled his lip as he glared at Jared, “What are you asking me for?” he growled. “I don’t run things around here anymore, you saw to that. Try asking Tambly, it seems the people prefer her advice to mine.”

  Jared was about to ask Lorzic where he could find Tambly, but the former mayor of Pellandrin simply turned his back and walked away. Charming, thought Jared.

  “Me!” came a voice from the crowd ahead, “That was what ye were about to ask, I take it? I’m Tambly.”

  A very plump Vikkery approached Jared, smiling. “Bit of a chill in the air this morning,” she chirped, “Oh well, we’ll just have to work a bit harder to keep warm.”

  “Yes, quite,” replied Jared, slightly taken aback by her chipper attitude. “Tambly, I don’t want to push you, but we are a little short on time here. How much longer before you’re ready to leave?”

  Tambly placed her hands on her hips and stared at the ground. Her head wobbled from side to side as she thought out loud, “Couple more handcarts, no, make that three and then there’s the food, we’ll need to hunt a bit more game. If I get a good fire going tonight, that Nibby fella can make some more o’ those honey cakes, everyone likes those. Oh, hang on, have we got enough honey? Best be on the safe side, we’ll find some beehives sometime tomorrow, might be able to scrape the last dregs before it gets too cold. Then there’s the…”

  “Tambly! How long?” pleaded Jared.

  “Couple o’ days… maybe three, not much longer than that,” she replied, grinning.

  “We don’t have three days!” exclaimed Jared. “We don’t even have two. Tambly, I’m very sorry but you must leave at first light tomorrow. Wha
tever you don’t have by then you’ll have to survive without, alright?”

  Tambly pouted, “Alright your princeship, if you say so,” she replied pleasantly. “Shame though, we really like those honey cakes.”

  Jared smiled as Tambly returned to her kin.

  “Bit different to Lorzic, isn’t she?”

  Jared turned to Drake, “I hadn’t noticed,” he chuckled.

  “They’re a funny lot aren’t they? I mean, it’s one thing having to deal with Grubb, but to have a whole village full of them around you… it’s exhausting! I’m going to miss them when they leave.”

  “Ah, yes…” said Jared, taking a deep breath, “… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

  “What about it?” asked Drake, suspiciously.

  “About them leaving. You see, Drake, they’ve been here for so long, I don’t think they’ll ever find Borell if we allow them to go alone.”

  A look of horror swept across Drake’s face, “No!” he groaned, “You’re not suggesting…?”

  “They’ll need protection! You’ve seen what they’re like, the slightest noise and they’ll scamper off into the hills never to be heard from again!”

  “But Jared, why me?” asked Drake, almost pleading with him. “Send Emnor, he’s old and tired… or send Grubb, they are his people after all.”

  “Who said anything about you?” frowned Jared. “I’m talking about Harley! I don’t want him in the thick of things if we should happen to run into Karrak. He’s not like you, you think on your feet, you react to things far more quickly, it’s instinctive!” Jared lowered his voice, “If Harley goes with us, I fear he may not survive. No, I need you with me, Drake. After all, you’re the man who’s going to save my father.”

  Drake’s eyes widened, “Me! How can I save the king? Tamor is protected by a seclusion spell, I wouldn’t have the slightest notion of how to find him. I wouldn’t even know where to begin!”