Come on Jared you can do this, he thought to himself. Focus, but on what earth, fire, wind, or water?
He closed his eyes. For a while nothing happened. There was a faint rumbling as the ground began to tremble, Emnor never spoke, not wanting to break his student’s concentration, but smiled at the result. The ground began to shake more violently and the rumbling became a roar, when suddenly one of the trees was ripped from the ground as easily as one would pick a small flower. Some of the smaller boulders around Emnor started to float and lightning bolts were striking them, appearing out of thin air. They struck again and again until the boulders glowed red, the uprooted tree shot a hundred feet into the air and the boulders followed it like hounds after a hare causing it to erupt into flames. Even before it had time to hit the ground again the tree was turned to ash, but the flames had spread to the nearby trees which were now also ablaze. The small stream seemed to grow and a huge wave suddenly appeared. It washed across both Emnor and Jared but then, luckily, it crashed into the trees dousing every hint of flame, the water ebbed back into its natural stream and all was calm once more.
Emnor, still sat on his boulder was now soaking wet. He wiped the water from his eyes and blinked at Jared, the smile literally washed from his face. “Can’t make your mind up eh?”
The commotion had spooked the horses causing them to bolt. Emnor rose from his rock, gave a slight chuckle and began the long walk back to the castle.
CHAPTER 4
Twenty years had passed since Jared’s first practical lesson in magic. He had become very powerful, far beyond the measure that Emnor had seen at their first attempt and kept telling him that, in time, he could become one the greatest wizards that ever lived. Jared always stopped Emnor at this point for, although a prince, he was still a very modest man. As time had gone by, they had become firm friends. Jared still enjoyed calling him a ‘barmpot’ occasionally, but now he could call it him to his face, and always with a smile. Tamor’s hair and beard were starting to show a little grey, Hannock and Jared still remained the best of friends and his baby brother, oh God above, his baby brother, who now stood three inches taller than him and was built like a barn, had become a pain in his royal backside. Jared had forgotten how many bribes he had given to cover for his brother, for if his father found out… Karrak had beaten men senseless, simply, it seemed, because he wanted to, and Jared had already paid two women to leave the kingdom and take Karrak’s illegitimate offspring with them. It seemed so long ago when the annoying little brat was always hanging onto his leg. Except when Jared was taking secret instruction from Emnor, Karrak’s face would often appear from a doorway, or peep through a window. Jared just wished that he would grow up, or bugger off, he really didn’t care which.
“Hello, Brother.”
Jared closed his eyes. He had his back to Karrak, but could tell from his voice that he was drunk, again. He should not have been surprised, as Karrak was drunk most of the time.
“What is it, Karrak? I’m very busy.”
“You don’t look busy; you look like you’re standing there posing as usual.”
“I must consult with the captain of the guard. I’m heading downstairs now as a matter of fact, do you need some help, or can you fall down on your own?” asked Jared, raising an eyebrow.
“Help? Help? Not from you I don’t, you pompous prig, I mean look at you, you’re not half the man I am. Just because you wear that fancy uniform and your shiny chainmail, I’ll tell you now if I’d have been firstborn...”
Jared had heard enough. “Yes I know, Karrak, but you weren’t. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times,” he said having raised his voice to drown out his brother’s drunken tirade of abuse.
“Guards.” Two very large members of the guard appeared, though neither of them was as big as Karrak. “Please escort Prince Karrak to his chambers, make sure he gets there safely. Go and sleep it off, Brother,” Jared’s last word said through pursed lips.
Jared made his way to the courtyard. “Guardsman, where can I find the captain?” he asked.
“I think he’s in the uniform hut, Sire, shall I fetch him for you?”
“That won’t be necessary, I do know where it is. Let’s just hope he is where you think he is, you prat.” Jared would not normally insult a member of the palace guard, but today Karrak had managed to get under his skin a little more than usual. He entered the hut and did, in fact, find Hannock there. “Captain, I’d like to see you in your office, if it’s convenient.”
“But of course, Sire, after you,” replied Hannock. Entering his office, Hannock closed the door behind them. “Jared, where have you been? I’ve not seen you for three days. Hang on, what’s wrong, my friend? You look like somebody just spat in your pint.”
“It’s Karrak! I swear he’ll drive me insane one of these days.”
“What’s he done this time?”
“Nothing, or nothing that I know of, yet. All he does every day is wander around the taverns, sleeps with anything that looks at him and harps on about how things would have been if he was firstborn. He doesn’t even have the decency to do it behind my back so that I can hear it as rumour, the spoilt brat does it to my face. Honestly, Hannock, it’s only a matter of time before he drinks himself to death, falls off a tower or gets a knife in the back.”
“One can only live in hope, Your Highness,” said Hannock raising his eyebrows.
If any other man had made this comment, they would have been in the dungeon faster than they could blink, but Jared laughed for he knew that Hannock would lay down his life to protect Karrak as quickly as he would for himself, or King Tamor.
“And where is your darling sibling now, Your Highness?”
“I instructed the guards to escort him to his chambers.”
“Escort him, or take him?”
“Do me a favour, Hannock, send a runner to check on him would you?”
“Your wish is my command, Sire,” replied Hannock, and bowed very low in jest, receiving a slap on the back of his head for his impertinence.
The runner returned after a few minutes and stood before Hannock. “Out like a light and snoring like a drain, Sir,” he reported.
“Well done, corporal,” said Jared, before Hannock had time to speak.
“Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but I’m not a corporal.”
“Do you want to be one?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” replied the guard, enthusiastically.
“Then shut your face and get out. Report to Captain Hannock tomorrow morning at ten sharp, he’ll take care of the official paperwork and issue your colours. Dismissed.”
“Thank you very much, Your Highness.”
“I said, dismissed.”
The guard saluted Hannock, bowed to Jared, and dashed out through the door.
“What was that all about?” asked Hannock.
“Never you mind, friend,” replied Jared. The runner was the guardsman that he had rebuked so unnecessarily a short time before. “Come on, I need a drink. Join me in the tavern?”
Hannock shrugged, pulled down the front his tunic, and they both marched through the door.
***
Entering The Weary Traveller tavern, both Jared and Hannock realised that all was not well. The various villagers and traders within stopped in mid-conversation and looked toward the door. Realising that it was Prince Jared, the normal respects were paid, with everyone bowing. Jared simply nodded and gave a brief smile as the pair made their way toward the bar.
The woman who now stood behind it gave it her best efforts to curtsey, much to Hannock’s amusement, as she could only have been described politely as being of ‘large proportion’. “Your Highness, Sir, how may I serve you today?”
Hannock’s mind raced with so many answers, pork, bacon, just something small or maybe, any pies left? A smirk came across his face and sucking in his bottom lip, he looked at Jared.
“Give me an ale,” Jared said, “Hannock?”
“Oh,
erm, the same,” he said, stifling his laughter. He really did have a childish sense of humour, as more cruel answers entered his mind. Jared just looked at him. He knew Hannock better than anyone and could almost read his mind.
“Don’t you dare,” he said gently kicking his friend’s boot, Hannock now grinning from ear to ear.
They turned and leaned their backs against the bar. Furtive glances came their way. Something was definitely wrong. Both turned back to face the bar wench. “Did something happen here?” enquired Jared.
“No, Your Highness, nothing at all, everything’s fine,” she said, but her voice became a little shaky at the end of the reply.
“He should be locked up and the key thrown away.” The statement was made by a woman’s voice, but neither Jared nor Hannock had noticed who made it.
“Who said that?” Hannock said, standing away from the bar as if on parade. The room had gone deathly silent, every patron looking to the floor. Hannock spoke again, “I demand an answer, who said that?”
A small, middle-aged woman now rose and walked around a table to face him, but continued to look at the floor.
“What did you mean? Who should be locked up? Well, don’t just stand there woman, answer me.”
A man behind her reached forward and grabbed her hand, “Sit down, Beatrice, it doesn’t matter, we’ll all be thrown in gaol, sit down for heaven’s sake,” he pleaded. They could not actually see the man, as he was obscured by Beatrice, who now turned to face him.
“No it’s not alright, look at the state of you, he’s evil. I don’t care if he is a prince, they can put me in gaol, but the truth’s the truth.” Beatrice marched back around the table and flopped down on the wooden bench with a thump.
This was the first opportunity they had been given to see the man’s face, well at least what was left of it. Both eyes were black and swollen shut. Both of his eyebrows were split and oozing blood, his lips in the same sorry state. His whole face was purple with bruising and swollen to twice its normal size, and dressings had been applied to his shoulder to cover yet another wound.
“What in the name of All Wars happened to you?!” exclaimed Hannock, “Did somebody drive a cart over your face, man?”
George, for that was the barkeep’s name, as badly wounded as he was managed a little chuckle, “No, Sir, it just feels like they did,” he replied, his chuckle cut short by the pain in his ribs, which he was now gently rubbing.
“Prince Karrak did it,” blurted out Beatrice, “my poor husband did nothing wrong. Your Highness, your brother just attacked him for no reason, he should be punished like anybody else.”
“Hold your tongue, woman, you speak of a member of the Royal House of Dunbar,” advised Hannock quietly.
Jared raised his hand and the room fell silent once more. He turned to Hannock, “Send a runner, no, on second thoughts, go yourself. Fetch Alfred and get him to bring all of his medical stuff with him, if he needs any supplies, buy them for him on the way back.” Hannock nodded in acknowledgement and exited the tavern. “Don’t worry, dear fellow, we’ll get you patched up,” Jared informed George.
As all was now calm, Jared could speak at length with Beatrice, who explained exactly what had happened. “I swear, Your Highness, if that there royal guard hadn’t spoken up when he did, my poor George would have been done for, he saved his life he did.”
A short while later Hannock returned, Alfred in tow. Alfred took care of George, cleaning and stitching his cuts then dressing them, applying a splint to a broken arm, that even George had not noticed, and placing poultices to his many bruises. Jared thought that the worst wound was the one in his shoulder, but unfortunately he was wrong. At one point Alfred asked to speak to him, “I’m afraid, Sir, that it is beyond my skill to save the sight in the left eye, it has been blinded,” was all he said, before returning to the care of his patient.
As they were due to leave The Weary Traveller, Jared turned to Beatrice, “Come to the castle tomorrow, we shall make suitable compensation for your inconvenience madam, ten o’ clock, please, do not be late.” Although he pitied these poor innocents, he still had to maintain his position.
Taking Hannock’s advice, they returned to his office. Angered by the events in the tavern, Jared had wanted to confront his brother immediately.
“You heard the runner, Jared, Karrak’s out cold. Even if you manage to wake him, you won’t get any sense out of him. Wait until he’s sober and then you can have your say.”
“I’ll kill him, Hannock, I swear I’ll kill him. This time he’s gone too far, he must be stopped. I can keep his shenanigans from my father no longer.”
***
Jared entered the throne room, closely followed by Hannock.
The king sat on his throne surrounded by many pretty girls who, as usual, were talking drivel. This not only amused Tamor, but had become his favourite pastime, for he knew that every one of them had delusions of becoming his next bride, and the Queen of Borell. Something that would never happen.
The two men bowed low. “Your Majesty,” said Jared, “forgive this interruption, but I have urgent need of your counsel.”
“Oh look, it’s the twins,” said Tamor. “Girls, toddle off now, but don’t go too far, I’m sure this won’t take long,” and gave them a little wave by wiggling his fingers as they left. “I do hope this is important, Jared,” he said lowering his head so that his chin touched his chest, “I was having so much fun.”
“Father, I must speak to you about Karrak.”
“Why, what’s he been up to now?” asked Tamor with a sigh.
Jared related the tale of the incident in The Weary Traveller.
“So, he gets into a tavern brawl and you think he should be punished for it? There are drunken brawls in every tavern, every day my son. If I were to lock up everyone involved, every time, my gaol would be permanently full.”
“It wasn’t like that, Father. The man he attacked is quite elderly and half his size. It was savage and uncalled for…” he paused briefly, “… and he’s not the first victim to fall foul of Karrak’s bullying.”
“Well you’ve never mentioned it before,” said Tamor.
“No, Father, I haven’t. In hindsight, perhaps I should have. But he is, after all, my brother. I thought he might change, that it was the impetuosity of youth but instead it’s become more frequent, and each attack more vicious than the last.”
The king’s expression changed. A look of concern had come across his face. “There was no mention of ‘magic’ being used at all was there?” he asked slowly.
Jared shook his head, with a puzzled expression, “No, Father, why?”
“No real reason, just wondering that’s all,” replied Tamor, flapping his hands as if to dismiss his own last question. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow, first thing in the morning, alright? Don’t worry, I’ll calm him down, now off you go,” and he simply waved them away.
Jared suggested that maybe Hannock should return to his duties. Hannock agreed and the friends parted. As Jared crossed the courtyard, a part of the conversation with his father would not leave his mind. Why had the king mentioned magic? He had made no reference to it, and Hannock had remained silent during their conversation. So where had it come from? He had no answers, I still need that drink he thought, and headed toward his chambers.
***
Jared had always kept up with his combat training, and today, like most days, he headed to the courtyard. Maybe an opportunity would arise that would allow him to finally defeat Hannock, he thought with a smile. Reaching his destination he had a quick look around, yes there was Hannock as usual, in the arena, giving weapons training to his guardsmen.
“Good morning, Captain,” Jared said as he approached.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” came the reply as everyone, including Hannock, gave a bow.
“I was just wondering, Captain, if you’d care to join me in the arena, so that I can kick your backside?”
Hannock smiled at
his friend, “Your Royal Highness, it would be my honour to join you in the arena, but with respect…” he said bowing again, “… were I to allow you to kick my backside, would I then not lose the respect of the king’s guard?”
“Well, we shall soon find out, shan’t we, Captain?”
Whether they were royal or palace guard, raw recruit or serf, everybody in the courtyard was laughing and most had seen this all before, a scenario that was played out regularly by the two best swords in the kingdom. The wagers still taking place, as they had for many years.
They both entered the arena. Chainmail and armour had been removed, even gauntlets left to one side. No accidental wounds would occur with such skill involved. They stood back to back for a second and then paced away, reaching the roped edge of it simultaneously. Each was handed a weapon. They now turned to face one another, moving in closer until they were only a yard apart, the steel showing in their eyes. They saluted one another, ready for battle and raised… their riding crops! The raucous laughter that came from the crowd was almost deafening as the duellists tried to outdo each other. Now and again you’d hear an ‘ouch!’, and they called one another names that one would never use in polite company.
The duel was going well, Jared and Hannock getting into the spirit of it. Jared was too indisposed to see what the crowd had seen, as the atmosphere changed and a hush came upon them. They all bowed their heads, Hannock included, and only then did Jared turn to see why… there stood Karrak.
“Good day, Brother…” Karrak almost spat the words out, “… still playing soldiers with your little friends, I see.” Karrak’s hostile tone spoke volumes.
“Hardly playing, Brother…” replied Jared, “… You should try it some time. You never know, you might find it quite ‘therapeutic’.”
“And how do you think I would fare in your little ‘game’?” asked Karrak.
“I’m not sure. Why don’t you test your mettle? How about now? Against me.” The tension in the air was palpable. In his mind Hannock was willing Karrak to accept the challenge and all that Jared could picture was George’s face, beaten to a pulp by this sadistic, privileged bully.
The Ascension of Karrak Page 4
