by GJ Kelly
Kraaaaaaaaaaaaahl!
Again, but this time watching intently, Gawain saw the white streak appear between the armoured plates at the beast’s throat. That white streak, and the great black eye, and perhaps the broad flaring nostrils, were the creature’s only apparent weaknesses that he could see.
After a more urgent chanting, thin and wispy streamers seemed to snake, smoke-like, from the short rod Darimak held aloft, winding against the gentle breeze swirling through the trees until they touched the Kraal’s black collar. Then, like a rope snapping taught, they straightened, and the beast at once sank to the forest floor with a low groan. Gawain felt the impact of the beast’s collapse through the trunk of the tree he was clinging to, and again marvelled at the weight of the creature; at least ten times Gwyn’s weight, he estimated, more rather than less.
“Dammit, Darimak, you threken idiot!” Brayan spat, advancing on the wizard. “How many times d’you need to be told before you finally learn to keep quiet with this thing around! You know how threken hard it is to get the beast on its feet in this soft earth once it wakes from your spell!”
“Hold your tongue and show some respect, Brayan of Eastguard! This entire mess is your fault! Take the Kraal-beast south and then east across the river Ostern and loose it upon the town of Jarn in Callodon! Those were Jerraman demGoth’s orders, simple and direct from Morloch himself! More than ten days since then we’ve been wandering in this miserable forest because you’re too stupid to fetch a trustworthy map!”
“You’re supposed to be this mighty Darimak parGoth, this great wizard in the making! Jerraman demGoth’s pet-keeper and fetch-body more like! If you were so threken clever, oh mighty Darimak, how come your ball of coal didn’t show us the mountain of Raheen until we almost ran into it?”
“It’s thanks to the Jardember we’re able to follow those witless fools to their town! If we’d followed your worthless map any further we’d be drowning in the salt-marshes!”
“You don’t even know it’s people we’re following, never mind to a town! Let’s just loose it now and have done!”
“Of course it’s people! And where else would they be going, fishing in a lake according to the pitiful threken map you bought! From a Pellarnian, you imbecile! Understand this, all of you! You’re here for your strength in holding the beast, not for the brains you don’t possess! Do your job, hold that beast in check, and when the Jardember shows me and the beast’s great eye the bright lights of a Callodon town and not the feeble glowing of some spitwad Eastlander trading party, then, and only then, shall we loose it! Unless you want to explain to Morloch himself why his orders weren’t obeyed!”
“Morloch,” Brayan spat something onto the ground, and brushed at the dirt on his bar of food, “You say that like he’s watching. You’re a miserable parGoth, only demGoths and above get to wear an eye and there’s some who say those eyes are too weak and too old to see much of anything now. And that charred ember of yours can’t see more’n a mile worth a spit.” And for emphasis, Brayan spat again. “By the time we get anywhere near a threken Callodon town we’ll have followed Karayan into the Kraal’s gob or been cut down by Eastlander guards.”
“You will follow orders. All of you. And if you really want to see what kind of misery a parGoth can inflict upon you pissant Kraal-fodder chain-pullers, just keep trying my patience.” Darimak flexed his right arm, the short rod of iron still clenched in his fist, and a dark ball of smoke began to form around it, similar to the much larger and far more threatening spheres the dark wizard had conjured on the Jarn road.
“You just remember this, parGoth,” Brayan hissed, flexing his own considerable muscles. “Once we let that beast loose on the Eastlanders, we’ve got a long walk back home, and you’ve got to sleep sometime along the way.”
The Kraal groaned, long and low, and began to stir. The air was filled with the clink of chains, bars of food stuffed hastily into pockets, powerful frames braced against the struggle they all seemed to expect.
While the Gorians’ attentions were fixed upon the waking Kraal, and the wizard moved well clear to raise the Jardember and look to the northeast again, Gawain slid down the back of the tree and withdrew. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the beast and its struggles while it regained its feet, and he needed time to think.
Minutes later, and still within earshot of the Gorians’ struggles with the beast, Gawain sank to his haunches, his back against a tree. Allazar had been right, or rather the knowledge of the elders given to Allazar had been right: the Graken and the Grimmand were only two of the evil creatures it was within Morloch’s power to create. And the Goths, too, that much also was obvious. The Kraal could now be added to the list. But in spite of the dreadful size and nature of the beast, there was the surprise pronouncement the dark wizard had made. The order to loose the beast on Jarn had been given ten days ago.
But for an unknown Pellarnian cartographer yet resisting the Gorian Occupation, Jarn could well have been destroyed before Gawain and Allazar had arrived at the foot of the Downland Pass. It may even have destroyed Elayeen, had she been there at the time. The thought sent a cold chill the length of his spine; he and Elayeen had been throth-bound a week ago, if she had died, he himself would now be dying a slow and wretched death.
But more important still, the beast had been sent from the dark tower in Pellarn long before the three of Raheen had unleashed the ancient power that smote the Dragon’s Teeth and ended Morloch’s plans for invasion of the Southlands.
One thing was certain. There was nothing Gawain could do here, except track the beast. None of his weapons could harm such a creature. He doubted even the Sword of Justice could do much more than scratch the great armoured plates on the immense creature. He needed to return to the column, and apprise the others of the danger advancing slowly upon the unsuspecting town that lay but four days ahead of them. Three, perhaps, since this day was already well advanced and the caravan had kept to the earlier jogging pace that ate up the miles on the crunching track.
It was early evening by the time Gawain heard the sounds of the caravan’s steady progress along the Jarn road. He’d moved quickly but quietly due south away from the Gorians and the Kraal, before turning sharply east, through the forest and across the road into the woodlands on the eastern side. There, he had no need of stealth, and he’d run hard miles to catch up with them. He could only imagine the strains on the Gorians clinging to the Kraal’s chains as it rumbled through the forest on a parallel track, keeping pace with them.
It was Gwyn, of course, who knew he was there long before anyone else seemed to notice. The wind was still from the southeast and backing due south now as the sun dipped down towards the western horizon. She snorted, but no-one paid her any attention. Finally she whinnied, and then the rearguard did pay attention to her, though they didn’t know the reason for her agitation. Then the great horse broke away from the rear of the column, casually leapt the ditch at the side of the road, and weaved and bobbed her way through the trees following Gawain’s scent on the breezes.
He laughed as she came to a halt before him, bobbing her head happily, blue eyes blazing. “Hello Ugly, did you miss me? I’ve only been gone half a day or so.”
She whinnied again, and turned, and Gawain mounted nimbly, ducking low over her neck as she picked her way out of the woodlands before leaping over the ditch and onto the track to the astonishment of the Callodon guardsmen. The ‘van was still rumbling along at a goodly pace, and that pace was kept by the smiling but sweating Gorians as Gawain trotted past them to the head of the column. Much to Gawain’s dismay, the smile on Allazar’s face as he looked over his shoulder at the young king advancing was in stark contrast to the blank and utterly indifferent aspect of Eldengaze, who noted his approach only briefly before swinging her head again to the southwest, and finally to the north once more. Any hopes he’d had of Elayeen dragging herself back from the power of the Eldenelves by his absence were dashed.
“My lord!�
� Tyrane announced, clearly delighted at the return of the young king.
“Tyrane,” Gawain acknowledged, drawing alongside the officer. “When’s the next rest period due?”
“We can stop any time, my lord…”
“No! We must keep going according to the pattern set earlier, or those tracking us will be suspicious.”
“Then my lord, about half an hour, or until the next passing-place, whichever comes first.”
“Excellent.”
“What is it, Longsword? What tracks us in the forest? Did you find the darkness?”
“I did, wizard, I did. And it’s dark indeed. If you know anything about a Kraal-beast, Allazar, now’s the time to brush up on how to deal with it.”
Twenty minutes later, at another of the gravel-strewn passing-places along the road, Gawain finished explaining to a small group of extremely worried-looking people exactly what he’d discovered in the depths of the forest to the northeast, the darkness that even now the grating rasp of Eldengaze announced had stopped moving, as Gawain had expected it would.
“A Kraal-beast is a brutal instrument of destruction, Longsword, a creature dark-made to wreak havoc upon village or town, wood or stone-built, it matters not to the brute. If such a beast is set loose upon Jarn, the destruction will be unimaginable.”
“We only heard of dark creatures made and kept at the towers, Serres,” Simayen Jaxon said nervously, “Creatures loosed upon those who crossed the guardstones or offended the dark makers, or trespassed where the darkness had been left to deny people passage. We had no names for them, just the darkness. It was said the Old Kingdom suffered much in the early days of the Occupation, and there was talk when I was young of foul and dishonourable things loosed upon villages and hamlets which sheltered the resistance or gave them aid.”
“Hmm,” Allazar agreed, “Salaman Goth was old, a long-time disciple and ally if not servant of Morloch. Loosing such beasts upon Pellarn during or after the invasion would explain much, perhaps even how the Old Kingdom defences facing the Eramak were so easily overcome.
“This Jerraman demGoth you spoke of, Longsword, would seem to have been high up in the hierarchy of the dark wizards of Goria, with the Goth representing the apex of their Order. Doubtless it was he we encountered on the road. It is clear they not only have the power of aquamire at their disposal but also the dark knowledge required for using it in the re-creation of ancient evils.”
“Do you know how to destroy this Kraal-beast? Will it be as simple as before when you destroyed the other creatures?” Tyrane asked.
“Well,” Allazar paused, and then spoke as if by rote, “The Kraal’s skin is infused with the aquamire of its creation, affording it tremendous strength not unlike plate armour or charmed armour. Ordinary weapons of the type commonly deployed by the kindred will not penetrate this thickened skin, which has the appearance of riveted metal plates hammered into place about the creature’s body and head, and yet is flexible. The horn and teeth are likewise infused, making them puissant in the extreme against flesh and bone. None but the thickest of walls, which are normally only found in military buildings, can withstand the beast’s charge.
“It can move surprisingly quickly for its size and there are few ways it may be destroyed outright, the most effective being a sustained blast of white fire. It may also be burned alive if it be captured in a pit, and burning oil and faggots introduced therein. Likewise drowning may be employed, it breathes the air, and there are no recorded occasions of a Kraal of Tansee possessing the ability to swim. It may also be buried alive in a pit where destruction occurs either through suffocation or starvation. In the absence of food, its aquamire becomes unstable, eventually spontaneously liberating itself and destroying the Kraal in the process. It was named for its unusually loud signature call.”
“I think the Captain and the rest of use were hoping for something a little more concise, wizard, like a simple yes or no.”
“I am sorry, Longsword…” Allazar looked a little hurt, and Gawain guess that the wizard still had little control over the elder knowledge which seemed to pour from him as if from the pages of a book.
“Never mind, you have the white fire and the Stick of Raheen at least.”
“Yes.”
“I think we’re going to need both. We can’t let that beast get within a mile of Jarn. As it is, that Jardember thing the parGoth is using can only see our caravan…”
“Forgive me, Longsword, it is the weakness of the wizard, not the tool, which limits his sight and that of the Kraal. In the hands of the demGoth, the Jardember could bring Morloch’s gaze to the Jarn road from beyond the Teeth.”
“Then we should be thankful that the demGoth sent an underling to launch the beast. As it is, we are at the limits of his range, and it seemed to me that what the parGoth sees with that Jardember thing, so too does the Kraal.”
“It sees the light of living things, Longsword, as the lady Elayeen sees them as well as the darkness. The wizard and the Jardember direct it, set it on its course, and then release it. With its gaze fixed upon its food, it attacks, and its appetite is voracious. The light from Jarn will be very bright compared to the light of our small group.”
Tyrane shifted nervously. “You mean, Serre wizard, the more people there are, the brighter the light?”
“Yes, Captain, that is precisely what I mean. And the brighter the light, the further it may be seen.”
“Dwarfspit.” Gawain sighed.
“What does it mean?” Jaxon asked a little timidly, seeing the worried looks on all the faces around him save for Elayeen’s vacant and unnerving stare.
“It means,” Tyrane sighed, “We daren’t proceed.”
“No indeed,” Allazar agreed, “For we do not know the range at which this Darimak parGoth might eventually detect the town he is seeking. For all we know, it may be a hundred miles, or a hundred yards further along the road.”
“Dwarfspit.” Gawain muttered again, looking down the track at all the expectant faces gazing back at him. “We need to destroy this Kraal-beast before we can take another step along the road.”
All eyes save Elayeen’s swung towards Allazar.
“Ah.”
oOo
23. The Plan
Elayeen stood half a dozen paces away from the small group, her eldengaze facing the darkness. Tyrane, his sergeant, Jaxon, Allazar and Gawain formed a small circle, squatting on their haunches in the middle of the western half of the passing-place.
“Here, about three miles north,” Tyrane explained, scraping a map in the dirt, “This is where the woodlands either side of the road thin to nothing, leaving just the road and the plains to the north and east. Here, to the west, the forest dwindles the further north and west you go, until finally at the river Ostern, it fades completely. On the other side of the Ostern lie the plains of the Old Kingdom.”
“But it’s all forest west of here to the river?” Gawain pointed.
“Yes, and shading to the northwest too. It’s probably how those Dwarfspit Gorians managed to evade our Westguard. No offense, Serre Jaxon.”
“None taken, my lord. All this here,” and Simayen Jaxon used a twig to scratch at the ground, “Is the southern forest of Pellarn Province. From what you said, my lord, the dark maker and the beast would have passed through the forest in the south and crossed the Ostern not far from the mountain.”
“Which would explain how they evaded the Westguard,” Tyrane agreed.
“We can thank our unknown Pellarnian map-maker for that blunder,” Allazar sighed, “Or Jarn would have been devastated before we arrived at Raheen. And that means of course that Morloch intended it to be so. He likely had no idea of our whereabouts or intentions.”
“True. They did say they’d been lost in the forest for ten days since receiving their orders.”
“Then something must have happened in the north, at the Council of Kings. Morloch intended something shocking here in the south, to distract the Council and draw
all their attention here, and away from his armies near the Teeth.”
Gawain agreed. “Whatever our friends are doing, they are clearly doing well. But that leaves us here, alone, with a Kraal-beast growing ever hungrier scarcely a mile away.”
“If we leave now, we could reach the end of these woodlands and be in open ground in an hour. They would still have the forest between them and us. It would at least give us the advantage of seeing the beast coming.”
“It has not moved.” Eldengaze asserted, without so much as a glance at them.
“We dare not move too far to the north, now that we know what it is that tracks us.” Allazar announced. “The risk of drawing close enough to Jarn for the parGoth to detect the town is too great.”
“And yet, my lords, without the knowledge that his Majesty brought from his hunt, we would be travelling merrily on our way.”
“And at the same time, unwittingly dooming an entire town.” Gawain sighed. “Allazar is right, we can go no further north. Not together, anyway.”
“Not together?” Jaxon looked confused.
“The enemy’s sight is limited to about a mile, given the brightness of our combined light. They clearly didn’t see me when you all moved off this morning leaving me behind. It would be interesting to know how good or how poor that sight really is. It may be that some could leave, could continue on to Jarn, but with the rest of us remaining here the parGoth would not see them?”
Allazar shook his head. “The Jardember would show the light diminished. It wouldn’t take an intelligent enemy too long to understand why.”
Tyrane tapped his dirt map with his twig. “Why don’t they just step out of the forest on to the road, point the beast to the north, and let it loose? They’ve been tracking us long enough to know the road runs almost arrow-straight north-south.”
