It was then that he discovered the throne room, and there, sitting in his rightful place, was King Tamor. He was slumped in his throne, his head forward, motionless. Believing Tamor to be dead, Yello approached him slowly and placed his hand on the king’s arm. “Who did this to you?” he asked himself aloud. “What am I to tell Jared?”
Yello could feel no real sorrow, this was his first encounter with Tamor and, therefore, he had no real opinion of the man. His son, however, had proven himself to be an honest and honourable man, and informing Jared of his father’s passing was not a duty that Yello relished. He lowered his head, contemplating the kindest way of breaking the news to Jared.
“Stay away from me, sorcerer!” roared Tamor, suddenly rising from the throne. Yello reeled backwards, his wounded leg sending him off balance and causing him to fall. “Have you not done enough?” cried Tamor, hysterically.
“Your Majesty, fear not, I am a friend,” said Yello, hurriedly. “The danger has passed, I am here to help,” he added, trying to calm the panic-stricken king.
“You’re one of them! You’re here to kill me!” ranted Tamor, shrinking away from Yello, head in hands, obviously terrified and confused.
Yello frantically rummaged through his bag hoping to find something, a potion perhaps, that would calm Tamor. All he had was the Abigail’s Mercy and that was more for pain relief from wounds, which at first glance, Tamor had not seemed to have sustained.
The king was becoming more and more agitated, now shouting at the top of his voice, but making little sense.
What if there were still enemies within the castle? Surely, the king’s ravings would attract them? Yello could take no chances. His staff pulsed once as he pointed it at Tamor. The king instantly fell to the ground, unconscious.
“My apologies, my liege,” muttered Yello. “It was for your own good.”
He checked Tamor for wounds, but found none. There was no sign of even the slightest abrasion. It was obvious to Yello that the king’s mind had been affected by sorcery.
***
“How are you feeling, Your Highness? Bit of a headache?”
Jared opened his eyes and blinked a few times before he could focus properly on Emnor. “What happened?” he asked. “How long was I out?”
“Oh, not long, just the one day,” replied Emnor.
“A day?” exclaimed Jared, immediately grabbing his head and discovering the egg-sized lump on his brow. “How is a day not long?”
“I’ve known wizards who were knocked out for weeks when a spell backfired on them,” replied Emnor. “You should think yourself lucky.”
“I don’t feel very lucky. I feel like I’ve been slammed into a wall.”
“That’s because you have, but at least you did the slamming yourself.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” asked Jared, frowning.
“No, but at least you won’t be looking for revenge on anybody else.”
“What? You mean like you, for instance?”
“I’ll leave you to rest a while longer. If you need anything, Alexander will get it for you. He’ll be your nursemaid, don’t worry,” and chuckling to himself, Emnor left the room.
“Can I get you anything, Your Highness?” asked Alex. “I’ve been instructed to take care of you.”
“No, thank you, Alexander. I’m fine.”
“It’s no bother, Jared. How about a drink?”
“On second thoughts, yes. Thank you, I’m parched.”
“I can’t believe no one ever told you that magic dehydrates your body.”
“That’s why Drake told Hannock to drink the water that morning then?”
“That’s right. I know he winds him up, but he actually likes the captain, you know.”
Alex paused momentarily as he handed Jared a glass of fruit juice. “What’s it like?” he asked.
“Have some,” offered Jared.
“Not the fruit juice! I meant, what’s it like being a prince?”
“I’ve never given it much thought, to be honest,” replied Jared. “It’s who I am, I don’t know any different.”
“But it must be fun? I mean nice clothes, a castle, servants, not having to get out of bed if you don’t want to, all that stuff.”
“You have a very strange idea of what it means to be a member of a royal house, my friend. It’s far removed from what you may think.”
“But you did have all that stuff when you were growing up, didn’t you?” asked Alex.
“Well yes, I suppose I did, but it’s also about setting an example. You have a responsibility to be better than your subjects.”
“That’s what you think, is it?” Alex’s tone had changed. “You think you’re better than everyone else just because you were lucky enough to be born into a royal family?”
“Not at all. As I said, as a member of the royal house one has to set an example. You have to be more honest; you have to work harder; you have to be more tolerant and forgiving. If you don’t have those qualities, you can become a tyrant.”
“You mean like Karrak?”
“Mind your tongue, boy. Know your place,” yelled Jared, pointing at Alex. “Whatever my brother has done is not something on which you may comment, do I make myself clear?”
“As crystal, Your Highness,” replied Alex, bowing to Jared.
Jared sighed, his attack on Alex was unnecessary and, to a degree, uncalled for. “I’m sorry, Alex, you didn’t deserve that,” he said, quietly. “Must be the bang on the head. Will you accept my apology?”
“Don’t worry about it. I had a lot worse said to me when I was growing up, that’s for sure.”
“I heard your father died when you were very young. It must have been difficult growing up without him?”
“No, he never died, he just didn’t hang around. Mum said as soon as he found out I was on the way, he was off.”
“That’s even worse. Do you know who he was, or is?”
“No. Every time I asked Mum about him, she said not to give him a second thought. After all, he never cared about me.”
“So, your mother never met anyone else? Someone to take his place, I mean?”
“Not that I remember, but I think I had a brother once. Not a real brother, just somebody else’s boy who lived with us for a while. He was older than me but I don’t know what happened to him. One day he was just gone.”
“You haven’t had it easy, have you?” asked Jared, sympathetically.
“Not until I learned the power of magic,” replied Alex. “The other boys used to beat me up. As you can see, I’m a bit of a weed. But when I found magic, it all changed. There was this one lad, big fat kid he was, all the other boys were scared of him so they did whatever he told them to do. One day, they caught me in an alley and were punching me in the face as usual when it got really nasty. The fat kid had a knife and I was sure he was going to stab me when, for the first time ever, I lost my temper. I screamed at him at the top of my voice and tried to push him away. He flew across the alley and crashed into the wall, split his head wide open. There was so much blood I thought I’d killed him. But then I realised, I hadn’t even touched him, I just pictured him slamming into that wall and it just happened.”
“So, what happened after that?” asked Jared, intrigued.
“I legged it, thought I’d done murder, but the fat kid survived. Neither him nor any of his cronies ever bothered me again,” replied Alex, laughing.
Jared thought back to when he was a boy in the courtyard of Borell Castle receiving weapons training. He remembered how terrified he had been as one of the guards, who had been ordered to give him a scare, stood over him with his sword raised high in the air. That same guard had flown through the air and crashed through a hay cart without any physical contact being made.
The events that had brought about both his and Alex’s awareness of magic were almost identical, save the fact that the threat to Alex’s life was far more real than his.
“Do you know s
omething, Alex? I think you and I are going to be very good friends.”
Alex chose not to correct Jared, always preferring to be referred to as Alexander. He had antagonised him once and did not wish a repeat. He stayed with Jared, but after a while the prince closed his eyes and drifted back into a restful sleep. Alex stared at him for a while, tilting his head to one side as if studying his patient. His expression changed as he curled his lip.
Turning quietly, he left the chamber. Instead of heading toward Emnor and the others, Alex headed in the opposite direction and began to descend one of the many steep stairways within Reiggan. Looking over his shoulder, he quickly entered the first room he came to. The room itself was not a particular destination, Alex simply wanted to be alone. He pulled a chair toward him, sat on it, and placed his feet on another. He leaned back, rubbing his hands over his face and blowing.
“You really do think you’ve got them all fooled, don’t you?” Strangely, Alex did not react to the sudden voice. “Poor little Alex. His daddy ran off and left him and his mommy all alone. Such a shame,” continued the voice, sarcastically.
“I’m not in the mood for your petty ramblings today, Theodore,” mumbled Alex. “Can’t you go and pester someone else for a change?”
“Funny you should say that, Alex. As a matter of fact, I’d love to. Oops, nearly forgot, I can’t, can I? There’s the slight inconvenience of me being dead.”
“Here we go again. Every day the same thing,” groaned Alex. “I can’t do anything, nobody else can see or hear me, I’m dead.”
“Well, you should know that better than anyone, Alex. After all, you killed me!”
“It was a long time ago, Theodore, and I have apologised,” replied Alex, “I’ve lost count of how many times.”
“Just let me try my magic on you, you said. I won’t hurt you, just make you float, you said. Great for the first few seconds, until your eyes turned black and you started smashing me into the walls before setting me on fire.”
“It was an accident, Theodore. I was too young and inexperienced, I thought I could control it, but I was wrong.”
“Thought you could control it?” scoffed Theodore. “The more I screamed, the more you enjoyed it. You need to be stopped and I’ll find a way, one day,” he threatened.
“You have appeared four times in a room full of people when I was present. No matter how loud you shouted or waved your arms about, I was the only one who could see you. What are you going to try next, writing on the walls?”
“I would if I could hold a quill, but you know I can’t, so don’t make fun of me, Brother.”
“I’m not your brother!” snapped Alex. “Don’t call me that.”
“We had the same father, you prat! Of course, you’re my brother!” exclaimed Theodore.
“I only have your word for that. I knew you for barely a year before you died. That does not make us true brothers.”
“You mean before you murdered me.”
“I did not murder you, Theodore. It was an accident.”
“So, why did you hide my body and tell your mother that I must have run away?”
“I was a child, Theodore, a scared child! Things would have been different if I’d understood more.”
“I watched you when you spoke to your mother, you never even flinched. No sign of emotion came from you, lying came far too easily. You deliberately murdered me, you wanted me out of the way, I’m just not sure why.”
“Stick around, you might find out,” mumbled Alex under his breath.
“What? So, you admit it!” exclaimed Theodore.
“I admit nothing!” snapped Alex. “Your death was an accident, nothing more. If you were alive right now, however, things would probably be different,” Alex stood up and glared at the apparition of the young boy that floated before him. Its features were quite distinct, from the sharp nose to the square jaw and bright blue eyes. “My mother told me that you look far more like our father than I ever did, but that doesn’t make you my brother. All you are now is a rotting corpse buried in the woods. Go back there, it’s where you belong.”
“You should be careful, Alex,” warned Theodore. “You can’t frighten me and you can no longer harm me. I’m already dead, remember? You may have your new friends fooled for now, but I know you much better than they do, I know how black your heart is. You will pay for what you have done, mark my words.”
The ghost vanished.
***
Faylore, as usual, was leading the way. Lodren, despite being much shorter in the leg than her, managed to keep up quite easily, but Grubb, not wanting to morph into his alter-ego for fear of scaring his beloved pony Buster, was now riding him in order to keep pace. Grubb wasn’t ordinarily prone to showing off, but when he rode Buster, he took a stance that would resemble any royal astride a magnificent charger, his back straight and his head held high.
“Your neck will freeze like that if you don’t drop your chin a bit,” said Lodren, laughing.
“Don’t know what ye mean by that, I’m just ridin’ normal,” replied Grubb.
“Take no notice of him, Grubb, you look most impressive, almost regal,” smiled Faylore.
“Don’t encourage him, Your Majesty. He’d be the first to say something if he saw anyone else riding with their nose in the air like that.”
“I have not got my nose in the air,” snorted Grubb. “It’s just more comfortable, is all.”
“Just change into Wilf. Buster will soon get used to him,” suggested Lodren.
“Wilf?” asked Faylore.
“Every time we talk about Grubb’s transformations we refer to it as ‘the four-armed alter-ego’ or ‘the thing with four arms’ or whatever. It would be much easier to just give it a name.”
“Lodren has a point, Grubb, it would save time and confusion,” agreed Faylore.
“Never even thought of givin’ it a name before,” said Grubb, “but why Wilf?”
“He reminds me of a chap who lived in our village when I was a boy. Bad tempered, old…” Lodren looked across at Faylore and cleared his throat, “… fellow, he was always shouting and roaring at anyone who got near to him.”
“Was there any reason for his aggressive behaviour?” asked Faylore.
“None at all. Like I said, he was just bad tempered,” replied Lodren.
Grubb smiled. “I like it…” he said, “… WILF. It’s perfect. When things get dangerous, I’ll become a ‘Wilf’.”
“No, not ‘a’ Wilf, just Wilf,” corrected Lodren.
“Whatever,” said Grubb.
The three continued with their journey for the next few hours, making small talk as one does, until Faylore called a halt. “We must tread lightly and speak softly, my friends. A startled dragon could end us before we make ourselves known as friends,” she whispered.
“What do you mean ‘end us’, Your Majesty?” asked Lodren, quietly.
“Destroy us, end our lives,” replied Faylore. “They could roast us alive or freeze us solid with their breath.”
“I knew a girl like that once,” muttered Grubb, “she was ’orrible.”
“This is no time for levity, master Grubb, I’m being deadly serious,” said Faylore.
“So am I,” replied Grubb.
“Stop messing about, Grubb, I don’t want to be roasted, or frozen. You’ll just have to be quiet, alright?”
Grubb scratched his head, trying to figure out what he had done wrong. He gave up almost immediately, shrugging his shoulders and assuring himself that they just didn’t understand him.
“How could we possibly startle a dragon, Your Majesty? They’re huge, I’m sure they’ll see us well before we reach them. It’s not as if we’re going to trip over one, is it?” laughed Lodren.
“How much do you know about dragons, Lodren? Have you ever met one? Have you even seen one?” asked Faylore.
“Well no, but the stories…” began Lodren.
“Precisely, my dear Nibby, stories. Written or told by fol
k who have had no dealings with dragons.”
“She’s got a point, ye know,” said Grubb. “You lead the way, Faylore, we’ll just do as we’re told, I don’t fancy getting frazzled either, Lodren.”
Faylore led them for mile upon mile across the bleak, seemingly endless tundra. Its glass-like smoothness was a welcome change from the uneven, boggy rainforest. Lodren glanced around as he blindly followed the Thedarian Queen. Ordinarily, he loved exploring new lands. This land, however, held no fascination for the Nibby. To be completely honest, he found it more than a little boring.
Grubb’s disinterest was not nearly as great. He cursed the icy ground with every stumble poor Buster made. The wrapping on the pony’s legs were a great help but did not completely cure the precarious predicament of his slippery journey. It was a relief to Grubb when finally, the landscape began to change. Small bumps were now visible, nothing drastic at first, admittedly, but it helped Buster’s hooves grip and he seemed to be walking far more easily. However, Grubb decided to leave the wrappings in place. It was still bitterly cold. Stretching into the distance, the companions could now see that the ice was formed into small hills, but nothing they could not traverse with ease.
“’Ere,” called Grubb, suddenly. “We ain’t gonna end up climbing more blasted mountains, are we?”
Lodren tutted as Faylore looked back at Grubb.
“No, master Grubb,” she replied, calmly. “We shall encounter no mountains.”
“Good,” snorted Grubb. “I think Buster has done enough. What with carryin’ me and ’im and the provisions as well.”
“’Ere!” exclaimed Lodren. “’Ere! Is that any way to address a queen, you stupid Vikkery? You get ruder by the day, I swear you do.”
“I wasn’t bein’ rude,” retorted Grubb. “If you want to ’ear rude, you can f…”
“Don’t you dare!” snapped Lodren, pointing and pouting at Grubb. “Don’t!”
Grubb had a mischievous smile on his face and Faylore could not disguise her laughter as she watched him.
Now amongst the small hills, the temperature appeared less harsh. Whether this was the case or it was because they were shielded from the chilling wind was uncertain, but most welcome.
The Bane of Karrak_Ascension Page 9
