The Ascension of Karrak (Karrak Trilogy Part One)

by Robert J Marsters

  The companions entered the chamber. In its centre, Karrak lay on a sumptuous bed that was surrounded by pillars carved with runes. There were markings on the walls and floor that were incomprehensible to any of them and torches burned on the walls, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Jared approached the bed and, leaning forward, took Karrak’s hand and began to whisper to him. The others could not hear what was being said and remained silent, showing the respect deserving of a royal.

  Karrak heard every word, Jared’s expression of brotherly love and patronising platitudes as well as Hannock, muttering under his breath. Karrak felt nothing. No love for his brother, no anger, nothing, just wishing Jared would leave.

  Emnor lead them back to the courtyard, where they began preparing for their departure, which they felt should be swift. “The weather should hold, at least for a day or so, and the going should be good,” Emnor offered, as good advice.

  “We’ll go back the way we came. It may be the longer route but we won’t have to contend with any snow for a couple of days, and we won’t get lost,” replied Jared.

  “Famous last words. We had a map on the way here and we still managed it,” said Hannock, sceptically.

  “But we’re just retracing our steps this time aren’t we?” stated Lodren, who still had his trademark smile.

  “When we reach the foot of the mountain I must leave you, just for a while. My people may be concerned with my absence and I must put their minds at rest,” announced Faylore.

  “Well of course you must, Your Majesty,” replied Hannock, giving his usual over-exaggerated bow.

  ***

  Soon they were ready to depart. They had been given extra provisions and a horse and now faced Barden Oldman, who had attended to bid them farewell. “We shall contact you in due course to update you of your brother’s wellbeing,” he said.

  “My thanks, Barden. Should you need anything, please feel free to contact me,” said Jared.

  “I will try to meet with you somewhere on your homeward journey, Jared, but I cannot promise,” said Emnor.

  The large stone gates parted once more and the companions departed in good spirits, minus one cart and one prince.

  Jared and Hannock were now both on horseback and, although he had protested a little, Lodren sat astride the spare mule that had been used to pull Karrak’s cart. Faylore announced that her legs were working perfectly and insisted on walking.

  “Being without the large cart should allow us a faster pace and if we get stuck at any point, muscles here can stick the provisions cart on his back and carry it,” said Hannock.

  Lodren smiled at him, “Glad to be of service, Mr Captain.”

  ***

  They followed the trail and could now see the entrance to the cavern.

  “And just where do ye think you’re going?” asked a familiar voice.

  “Grubb!” exclaimed Hannock.

  “Heading back into my cavern are ye? Didn’t ye cause enough upset last time?” asked Grubb.

  “We thought it safer, and we promise not to cause any disturbances this time, to yourself or the wolves, dear Grubb,” said Jared, placing his arm across his chest as if swearing an oath.

  Grubb looked at them all in turn. He actually liked this eclectic mix of companions. “Well, the only way to be sure of that is for me to tag along I suppose. Just to keep an eye on ye of course,” he said.

  “Of course Master Vikkery, of course, wouldn’t have it any other way. If you’d like to save your legs a little, you can either jump in the cart, or you could ride with Lodren, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” said Hannock trying not to laugh. “Just to save a little time,” he added.

  “Ride on a mule? With a Nibby? Now that would be interesting.” Grubb was most intrigued by this proposal and without hesitation, offered his arm to Lodren, who obligingly pulled Grubb onto the mule’s back.

  “Comfortable?” asked Lodren.

  “It’ll do,” replied Grubb, who was secretly, thoroughly enjoying this new experience.

  “Right, here we go then,” said Jared, and the four companions, along with their hitchhiker, headed into the cavern.

  ***

  Ramah, convinced that all was going to plan, had now raided four villages, each bigger than the last. They had yielded very little of value. A few gold coins and some semi-precious stones were the sum of the loot so far. He had no real need of gold as he looted everything he needed, but he had become avaricious and was bewitched by the glint of gold. Studying his Dergon warriors, he had now selected a new second in command, having decided that Klag’s successor should be more intelligent than he had been, a difficult achievement. The typical Dergon were far removed from a race of intellectuals. His new second should lack the aspirations that had been the obvious downfall of his predecessor. It had taken careful consideration, but eventually Ramah had made his decision. Korbah was a magnificent specimen. Almost as big as Ramah himself, but with only half the brains. Ramah had watched him in battle and was most impressed at his strategy of using his comrades to shield himself from bolts and arrows. He was not as mindless as the rest, he thought before he acted and if his brothers in arms could learn this from him, it would be a great benefit. Ramah had told Korbah of his promotion, causing his new second to simply nod once. Ramah knew that he had made the right decision.

  Korbah now stood before him. “Not sure how many, but somebody was watching us, footprints on a patch of dirt,” he said.

  “I shall teach you how to read the tracks properly, Korbah, but at the moment it’s not important. We were being watched and you have done well to discover the fact, obviously a scouting party, but from where?”

  “The tracks were heading toward Borell I know that,” continued Korbah, “they had horses waiting, won’t take them very long to get back there.”

  “Borell eh? So, they’re making their move. First they send a scouting party to assess our strength, then ready their army to mount their objective. Interesting. We still have time to mount our defences, three days to Borell, three days to make ready and three days back to us. Yes, we have plenty time. Assemble your lieutenants, Korbah, war is coming.”

  ***

  “The lore of the scroll has been accurate so far, Barden. What makes you think that you can control Karrak? He is destined to become the personification of pure evil, he cannot be cured with kind words or magic,” snapped Emnor emphatically.

  “But we must at least try. We cannot leave him to lie in his present state until the day he dies. If we do, we would be no less evil than you insist he is, perhaps even worse,” calmly replied Barden.

  “Leave him as he is. He is at peace, unaware, and no danger to those around him,” pleaded Emnor.

  “In his surroundings he can do no harm. There are spells and runes to protect all against harmful magic. Emnor, I must at least try to save him.”

  “I cannot understand why you have had such a change of heart, Barden. You were the one who said he should have been slain and now all I see is that your mind will not be changed. Very well, but do not look to me for aid, I want no part of this foolishness,” said Emnor.

  “I’m sure we shall endure without your help,” sneered Barden.

  “Beware, Barden, do not believe a word he says, do not trust him,” barked Emnor. Storming from the room, Emnor slammed the door behind him and, within the hour, departed Reiggan Fortress.

  Barden retired to his own chambers and was pondering over various scrolls spread across his large ornate oak desk. Page after page on sicknesses of the mind, from nightmares to hallucinations and madness, fell under his gaze as he sat in complete silence for many hours, transfixed by their content.

  He sat forward to closer inspect something of particular interest, but as he did so felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down and tutted. His talisman had become entangled in his robes. Without thought, he took The Order of Corrodin by the chain, lifted it over his head, and placed it on the desk in front of him.

  “Don’t really
need that on in here,” he said quietly. A mistake he would live to regret.

  ***

  Karrak was awake once more, still immobile, eyes closed. At first it was as silent as it had been the first time, but gradually the gentle mumbling began, quiet at first then slowly increasing in volume until every spoken word was crystal clear. The conversation had many sources, but the topic was the same by all… magic. The discussion continued, but quickly became a debate on how best to use particular spells, and who would be the best candidate for their type. Karrak listened with fascination. He himself had only just discovered that he was able to use magic, rather unsuccessfully and not for the most honourable of reasons admittedly, but it had been his first intentional attempt. There was a faint light now visible to Karrak and, as with his hearing, his blurred vision began to clear as he saw through another’s eyes. There were cloaked figures gathered around a large table. So these were the faces to whom the voices belonged. Was he actually in the room with them? Try as he might he could not affect this person’s borrowed line of vision, yearning to see more.

  Then the one transcending voice came again, but this time it was clear, and Karrak knew without doubt, that it was speaking directly to him. “I give you this gift Great One. Use it well, learn all that you can and, when the time is right, find me.”

  Who was this? What did they want? How could he find them, when he couldn’t even move? Would he be able to somehow control the person whose sight he was using, in order to find the owner of the voice? Karrak concentrated, but try as he might, the voice would no longer communicate.

  There would be no answers to his many questions as Karrak, resigned to this, continued to watch his unknown, ignorant teachers. He listened intently to every word and took in as much as he possibly could with his restricted vision, until his fatigue became too great and he once again fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  ***

  Barden approached Karrak’s chamber door. “I take it all is well?” he asked of the two wizards on duty. They nodded in response. One wizard looked pale and drawn. Barden placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, my boy? You look exhausted.”

  “Now that you mention it, I feel exhausted. As if I’ve been awake for days, Master Barden.”

  “I suggest you take some rest. Here, drink this before you go to sleep, you’ll feel better after.” Barden handed the young wizard a small vial containing a green tincture.

  “That is most kind, Sir, I will. Thank you.”

  “Make sure you are relieved of duty before you retire. This door must not be left unattended.”

  The wizard nodded, half in agreement, half as a kind of bow.

  Barden entered the chamber and went straight to Karrak’s side.

  “You look remarkably well for one who has slept for almost a month,” he said, knowing that Karrak could not actually hear him. Leaning forward, he held a small glass vial to Karrak’s lips and allowed two drops of liquid to fall between them. Taking a few paces back and placing his right hand on The Order of Corrodin, Barden waited. Karrak opened his eyes.

  “Good morning, Your Highness,” said Barden, and bowed before the prince.

  Karrak sat up slowly, undaunted by his surroundings. “Who are you?” he asked gruffly.

  “Barden Oldman, Your Highness, Head of the Administration here in Reiggan Fortress.”

  “So this is my gaol cell is it? For one poxy spell I’m banished to a wizard prison?”

  “Not a prison, Your Highness, more a sanatorium. An infirmary of sorts.”

  “If it’s an infirmary I can leave whenever I like, is that the case?”

  “The king feels that you might benefit from our care, for a little while, Your Highness.”

  “How long have I been asleep?” Karrak’s manner became typically aggressive.

  “Almost four weeks, Your Highness,” replied Barden, now holding his talisman with a much firmer grip.

  “How did I get here? Was it you? Who did this to me, you slimy little toad?”

  “You were brought here by your brother, Your Highness. Prince Jared was…”

  “Jared. I should’ve known. First chance he had to get me out of the castle. Father’s favourite golden boy, I suppose he had that sword-swinging idiot Hannock holding his hand as well eh?” barked Karrak.

  “The captain of the guard was with him, Your Highness, purely for your added protection of course.”

  Karrak was losing his temper. “Do you think me some kind of fool, wizard?” he bawled. Karrak raised his arm as if to strike Barden, but was hit by an unseen force as if he was caught in a sudden tornado and thrown backwards onto the floor, stunned, and shaking his head as if he had had a door slammed in his face.

  “Now we cannot tolerate behaviour like that, Your Highness,” Barden said, very calmly.

  “This room is protected and if you attempt to harm others, your intention will be reflected fivefold, so please, do not try that again. We don’t want you hurting yourself.” Reaching down he helped Karrak to his feet.

  “How did you do that? You never even moved!” exclaimed Karrak, dropping back heavily onto his bed.

  “I didn’t do anything, Your Highness, you did. The idea is that you understand how your victim would have felt had you been left to your own devices.”

  Karrak was bewildered by the events. “Can you teach me how to do that?” he asked.

  “Your Highness, I can teach you much more than that, but you must first learn a little humility. To be granted a gift such as ours is a great honour, gratitude and respect must be its bedfellows.”

  ***

  Barden’s visits to Karrak had now become part of his daily routine, increasing in duration however, over the following weeks. Each visit brought similar complaints by the guards of a severe, unexplained exhaustion, something with which Barden seemed unconcerned. He would always offer the same tincture as he had to the first victim, and send them on their way. Today was no exception as, once again, he visited the prince. “How are you today, Your Highness?” asked Barden.

  “Very well, Master Barden,” Karrak replied pleasantly.

  “You seem far more at ease than you were when you first came to us, Your Highness. Your temperament is much improved.”

  “Well I hardly came to you, Barden, I was kidnapped. For my own good, of course.” Ordinarily this would have been said by Karrak in a rage, but he remained quite calm.

  “Yes, Your Highness, indeed you were, and not a moment too soon.”

  “I understand that now. My actions were deplorable. I now see that my father and brother had no other option. They could have locked me in the dungeon to rot or executed me, but instead, decided to place me in your care,” said Karrak, sounding sincere.

  The two spent hours discussing various magics, Barden knowing he was quite safe and Karrak in good spirits, polite and willing to listen to all that was said.

  “I know you have no reason to trust me yet, Barden,” said Karrak, “but is there any chance of me being allowed to go for a short walk? It has been such a long time since I have seen daylight and I would be most grateful.”

  “Your Highness,” began Barden, “I understand your apprehension but must regretfully decline. I cannot allow that yet. This segregation is paramount to your recovery but hopefully, before long, I will allow myself to grant your every request.”

  It was as Karrak had thought, he was a prisoner, and although courteous and respectful, Barden was his gaoler. Karrak sighed. “I understand, Barden, completely.”

  ***

  Karrak no longer had to endure the administration of a sleeping tonic and was allowed to retire each night as any other, tonight being no different. He closed his eyes, and after a few minutes, was asleep.

  He saw that he was in the same room as usual and the occupants conversed in a similar manner as always. His sight was clear. The eyes were perusing a tome before them. Karrak concentrated as hard as he could. The hand reached forward and turned the page… success.
This was what Karrak was willing it to do as he watched, but was it coincidence, was it his will or was it actually the will of the person whose eyes he possessed? He focussed his mind once more, another page was turned, then another and another. Karrak could control this body. He compelled it to rise and look about it, seeing a doorway approached it. Turning the knob, it swung open and Karrak could see a long, torch-lit passage ahead of him. “Where are you going?” asked a voice.

  He was turning away from the door, No, no, walk through the door, he thought. But it was no good, he had lost his control. The eyes turned back to the table and continued with their owner’s studies.

  Night after night, Karrak continued to inhabit the body of any unknown host, but now, to a degree, he could compel it to do his bidding. He would cease all activity of the host and study tomes of his own choosing, whilst being careful to avoid detection by any of his unsuspecting classmates. He would hide one tome inside another and if anyone came close, would hold the combined works up in front of him and wave away any questions, as if he were deep in thought. He had not yet ventured outside, that could wait. The knowledge contained within this room was far too intoxicating to allow Karrak’s mind to contemplate that anything beyond the door could be of greater interest.

  ***

  After their reunion with Grubb, the companions had spent a little time in idle chat whilst they headed back into the cavern.

  “So, you’re headed back to Borell now then are ye?” asked Grubb.

  “Indeed, Grubb, we must not tarry. We are over a week behind our estimated itinerary,” replied Hannock.