They backed away into the darkness.
The Dergon camp had been set about a mile from the Borellians. Ramah and Klag now sat by the large campfire. There was no conversation to be heard amongst the Dergon warriors, they had no interest in banter and very little interaction took place between them, preferring action to word. They always listened intently when Ramah spoke, in awe of his intelligence, as they were doing now.
“We could’ve though, couldn’t we, boss? We could’ve taken ‘em easy,” said Klag.
“Probably, Klag, but we were outnumbered and they were well armed, I shall not risk the life of any of my fellow Dergon unnecessarily.”
“But they’re only little, tiny, I could squash ‘em wiv me bare ‘ands I could.”
“Maybe you could, but we were outnumbered three to one and it’s always best to err on the side of caution. Had we had the rest of our forces with us, I may have considered an attack.”
“Ooh I love it when you talk like that, boss, but that’s ‘cause you’re clever innit? That’s why you’re the boss.”
“No, Klag, I am your chief,” said Ramah, gripping Klag gently, but firmly, by the back of his neck.
“Yes, Chief, sorry, Chief, won’t ‘appen again, Chief,” said Klag looking slightly nervous.
“Now, we shall eat, what’s on the menu?” said Ramah.
“Some kind of meat, Chief,” said Klag, looking pleased with himself at remembering to call Ramah by his preferred title.
“What kind of meat?”
At this another Dergon chipped in, attempting to gain favour, “It’s rabbit, Chief, and erm, wolf.”
***
The following morning the Borellians had breakfasted and then broken camp. Jared had not, as yet, seen Hannock.
“Have you seen Captain Hannock this morning?” he asked of one of the guard, but before the guard had time to answer, heard his friend’s voice shout.
“Over here, Your Highness.” Hannock appeared from behind a bush, a slightly concerned look on his face.
“Everything alright, Captain?” asked Jared.
“We weren’t alone out here last night, we had company,” said Hannock.
“How do you know?”
“It’s always been a habit of mine to inspect the surrounding area whenever I break camp, Your Highness, a habit taught by my father, and I’m glad he did,” said Hannock.
“Why, what did you find?”
“Some kind of footprint. Far too big to be made by someone of our stature, but they weren’t animal tracks either, and they were spying on us. The tracks lead toward Muurkain Mountains.”
“The way we’re headed,” said Jared. “Show me.”
Hannock lead Jared into the woods. They had travelled about fifty yards when he stopped and pointed at the ground, “Two of them stopped here for some time, they were crouched so as not to be seen.”
“How do you know that?” asked Jared.
“If you study the ‘footprint’ I suppose you’d call it, the front part of the track is much deeper than the back which means they were leaning forwards to balance themselves. Compare those tracks to the ones just behind, made as they approached and you’ll see that the back of the track is shallower than the approaching tracks made when they were sure-footed.”
“How come you never taught me these skills, Hannock?”
“You have your magic, Jared…” said Hannock, “… and I have mine.”
They ventured a little further, when Hannock once again pointed to the ground. “They headed off in this direction, see how the front part of the track is wider than the back? I counted five sets of tracks, the two that watched, and three that were placed as lookouts. I don’t know what they wanted, Jared, but they were organised, and stealthy.”
“But who are they? What are they? These tracks are huge,” said Jared.
“Not sure, they’re too small to be ogres or giants. Mind you, they don’t use stealth anyway, they just charge in blindly and start smashing everything in sight.”
“I think I’d rather have that scenario, at least we’d know what we were dealing with. This is a most perplexing situation,” said Jared.
“What if it’s something to do with Karrak, you know somebody who doesn’t want to see him locked up?”
“No, it can’t be that, his power is very weak. He wouldn’t be of any use to anyone,” said Jared shaking his head.
“Well, whatever the case my friend, we must take care. It may be nothing, but best be prepared,” said Hannock.
“Indeed,” said Jared. “Inform the men of the intrusion, Hannock. Leave out the details.”
Hannock briefed his men, had the horses saddled, and they set off.
***
Two days passed. They had neither seen nor heard anything untoward, making and breaking camp without incident and no more tracks had been found. Karrak was cared for by his brother and remained in good health, but the mood of the troops was slightly subdued.
“Another fine day,” said Hannock, a huge grin on his face.
“If you say so,” replied Jared, looking up at the heavy cloud formation.
It had begun to rain during the night and this had dampened the spirits of the procession somewhat, except of course for Hannock, who, much to the annoyance of his men, kept making obvious comments such as, ‘It’s only water.’
They had reached the Hebbon Hills and were about to start making their way through a gulley between them. On one side there was a gentle, mossed slope that rose to about thirty feet, on the other, a sheer rock face of double the height.
“I don’t like this, Jared,” said Hannock. “Not one bit.”
“Can we go around, or over?” Jared asked.
“Not around, that would add two days to the journey. We could go over, but we’d have to go back the way we came for about five miles. And then of course, there’s the problem of the carts, and this rock would be treacherous to walk on when wet, we could end up falling and breaking our necks.”
“How long is this gulley, Hannock?”
“Not too far, I’d say about a mile.”
“That’s settled then. We go through. But make sure your men are on alert, this is a perfect site for an ambush,” said Jared.
They entered the gulley. Their progression was hindered by rocks and boulders that had tumbled from the rock face to their left, preventing the passage of the carts. They would travel a mere fifty feet and Hannock would give the order to halt. The guards would move forward, leaving the carts unguarded, to clear the debris, then fall back to their positions of protection. Another fifty feet and the exercise would be repeated. The gulley became more and more impassable until, halfway through, they came upon a pile of rocks that would have taken a whole army half a day to remove. Hannock turned his head to Jared, then to the rock pile and back again. Jared bowed his head and gave a gentle sigh. He knew that questioning look. Whenever there was no solution to be found, Hannock would use it, and it was always aimed at him. Hannock knew all too well the power that Jared possessed and, in normal circumstances, respected Jared’s reluctance to use it.
“We shall have to turn back, Your Highness. It would take far too long to move the blockage; we shall have to go around.”
Jared knew this was his cue to take action. “No, I’ll deal with it,” he sighed. He dismounted and, raising his voice slightly, announced, “Men, what you are about to witness you must never speak of, that is an order.”
“Yes, Sir,” they replied.
Removing his gauntlets, Jared moved closer to the rock pile. He stood for a while, studying its formation as if he were working out some strange form of puzzle. Hannock had ushered his men back toward the carts and given orders for the horses to be tethered to them.
Jared began to chant. A gentle breeze picked up around him, ruffling his hair. The breeze rapidly turned to a strong wind that then became gale force as the volume of his voice increased, still chanting. The soldiers watched wide-eyed, their mouths open, amazed at what they were wit
nessing. Jared was now shouting and the howling wind had become a tornado. The horses seemed to be screaming in terror as the roaring increased, the entire scene had become as black as the darkest night until with a roar Jared thrust his hands forward. The rock pile exploded. Boulders were reduced to the size of pebbles. The guards feared they would be killed as every piece was whipped into the air like straw until, throwing his hands to his right, Jared roared again and every piece was scattered across the mossed bank settling like sand drifting through an hourglass. The wind subsided, the howling stopped and the light returned, as Jared fell heavily to his knees.
Not a word was spoken by his men, as Hannock walked forward, “As you were, men,” he uttered as he passed, eager to check on his friend. Leaning down, he took Jared’s arm, “Are you alright?” he asked, although it was quite obvious that he was not.
“Oh you know, Hannock, just another day in the service of His Majesty,” replied Jared, exhausted by the exercise.
Hannock insisted that they take a short rest period and Jared was made to eat and drink, in the hope of his regaining a little energy. Out of earshot of the soldiers, Hannock looked into his friend’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine my friend, it just saps my strength for a while. Emnor said the more I use magic, the less effect it will have on me.”
“You’ve not used it much then, have you? You look done in.”
“I told you, I’m fine. Now shut your face or I’ll have you put in the stocks, I’m a prince you know?” Despite his fatigue, Jared had not lost his sense of humour.
After a brief rest, they set off once more, Hannock having persuaded Jared to ride in the cart with his brother until he had regained his strength. It was still hard going and the frequent stops to move obstructions had continued, but both Hannock and his men, having travelled three quarters of the way through the gulley, could now see the end of it and were feeling a little more positive.
“Halt,” called Hannock.
The guard were a little confused at this as there were no visible restrictions directly ahead of them. “Is everything alright, Sir?”
“Step forward lieutenant.” The soldier promptly obeyed.
“Send two men to scout ahead, about a hundred yards should do.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tread carefully, men…” Hannock advised, “… if you see or hear anything before you reach a hundred paces, return immediately.”
The two scouts set off. Reaching the point that had been suggested, they turned to face Hannock, one raising his arms to his sides in a gesture that gave the ‘all-clear’. They turned again and faced away, scanning the terrain ahead.
Hannock had seen something, just the slightest movement, not the branch of a tree or even a leaf in the breeze, at the exit from the gulley. Something had moved from left to right low to the ground, something green, something shiny. What the hell was that? He thought to himself. Holding his ground, he waited. Two minutes went by and still nothing happened, Hannock old boy, he thought to himself, you’re losing it. “Forward,” he ordered.
The procession moved forward as instructed. The gulley was wider at this end and this meant there were no impediments. Suddenly, the two scouts cried out in panic and began to run toward them shouting, but could not be heard as yet. Hannock, spurring his mount, began to canter toward them, still unable to see anything. However at this point he heard them, “We’re under attack, there’s loads of them, take cover”.
Hannock looked beyond them and his blood ran cold. In a cloud of dust they appeared. Like a stampede the creatures charged, except they had riders. What were these beasts, and who were their riders?
Hannock was facing the Dergon!
The mounts they rode were immense. As big as a rhinoceros with jet-black skin that was as thick as any armour worn by warriors, three horns across their heads and glowing red eyes. The Dergon were riding them at a gallop, beating them with clubs to maintain their speed.
Hannock turned his horse as quickly as he could and charged back to the carts, “Take cover,” he shouted as he dismounted hurriedly and ran to the cart. Jared was already climbing out as he reached it. “Draw your sword, Jared, this is going to get nasty.”
The two soldiers never had a chance, one was trampled underfoot by one of the Dergon mounts, the other struck in the back of the head with a Dergon axe that literally cleaved it in two. Jared had no time to think of his brother’s safety lying comatose in the cart, he himself had to survive in order to be of any use to anyone else.
Within seconds, the Dergon were upon them.
They charged their steeds straight through the centre of Hannock’s men. Luckily the soldiers dodged the lead beast, but it clipped the covered cart, spinning it flat against the rock face, putting it slightly out of harm’s way. Still at a gallop, it crashed through the provisions cart, scattering the contents and crushing the guard attempting to shelter behind it. Hannock snatched a pikestaff from the ground and hurled it. As the Dergon turned his mount, the pikestaff struck him in the throat, and he fell to the ground. His steed, in the melee, began to buck and kick as if to throw an unwanted rider. This, in turn, felled two more of the beasts, causing their riders to crash to the ground. One glamoch kicked out wildly, smashing the leg of the rider who howled in pain, but not for long, as Hannock severed his head, splashing his dark green blood across the ground. The battle was not going well for the Borellians. Hannock saw two more of his men fall, one to an axe, the other set upon by three of the enemy, who were smashing his body with battle hammers. He could not help; he had barely blocked a strike from a huge scimitar wielded by another of their foe. Parrying a second blow, he ran it through with his sword and kicked it away from him, leaving even more green blood dripping from the blade. He felled another and another.
Jared, being almost as skilled with a blade as Hannock, had also felled three of the marauders, but he too had witnessed his comrades fall. Looking up, he saw a clutch of the enemy charging toward him at full pelt, and roared “Nooo…,” his spell throwing them all into the air.
Two more of their kinsmen fell, would all now be lost? Lost to an unknown enemy?
Hannock and Jared were now standing back to back. A quick glance revealed survivors lying on the ground, still moving, but badly wounded, when suddenly they heard a whistle, then another, then a third and a fourth. Four of their attackers fell before them, arrows in their heads. The rest, startled by this, began to screech as they fled, their strange mounts following them as a loyal dog would follow its master. Jared quickly glanced at the cart, it was virtually untouched. Sure that his brother was fine, he, like Hannock, immediately began to tend to the wounded. It had not even crossed their mind to whom they owed their lives. Their hearts sank as they checked their comrades. After this brief, brutal battle, only two had survived.
CHAPTER 6
Watching them from the peak of the rock face, Faylore wondered why anyone would venture into these lands with so little protection. She knew that they were from Borell, but what were they doing here? They’re like defenceless children, she thought. Borell is only a few days away and most of them are dead already. Intrigued however, as she always was by other species, she held her position and continued her study. She was very different from most Thedarians. They were not at all inquisitive and despised many other species, believing them to be inferior.
Hannock dressed the wounds of the two soldiers as Jared checked on Karrak. He was unhurt, still comatose and oblivious to the carnage that had just taken place. Hannock then assessed the remains of the provisions cart, salvaging what he could and hoping that their new found foe would not return. He placed the unspoiled remnants by the wheel of the cart for Jared to place inside, recalling the order to leave its occupant undisturbed.
One of the stallions had been killed in the attack and the carthorses, having been inadvertently freed during battle, had bolted. They now had one horse, one cart, one sedated prince and two badly wounded soldi
ers. Things were not looking good. They hitched the stallion to the cart, eager to leave this pit of death.
“What are they, Hannock?” asked Jared, kicking gently at the shoulder of one of them as if to check that it was dead.
“Ugly,” replied Hannock, kicking it himself, but with full force.
“Have you ever heard of anything like them before though? You have been on patrol a lot more than I.”
“Well that’s because you’re a prince. You shouldn’t be out in the wilds at all, it’s very dangerous you know,” said Hannock with his very best ironic overtone.
“And those things they were riding,” continued Jared, ignoring the sarcasm. “I’ve never seen anything like those either.”
“If we keep our fingers crossed, hopefully we’ll never see them again.”
“Well, if we do, I don’t think we’ll survive. Fourteen of our best men cut down like wheat in a matter of minutes.”
“And we were about to be, and would have been, if not for the mystery archer.”
“Why would you save someone and then not even speak to them, Hannock?”
“All I can think is that they weren’t saving us. Maybe they just have a grudge against these, things.”
“It’ll be getting dark soon. We’d better make for the trees…” Jared suggested, “… we can set a camp there. It should shield us a little, in case they come back.”
***
“What do you mean, they had help?” bellowed Ramah.
“It was them Thedarians, Chief. ‘iding somewhere they was, using them fancy bows and arrows, loads of ‘em there was.”
“Klag,” said Ramah, tapping a large knife against his palm, “how many were there?”
“Like I said, Chief, loads.”
“How many?” shouted Ramah, placing the tip of his knife against Klag’s nose.
“Well I, I, I ain’t really sure, Chief, like I said they was ‘iding. Four of our warriors, sorry, I mean your warriors was dead in seconds with arrows in their ‘eads. I couldn’t let any more die, please, Chief, I’m real sorry.”
The Ascension of Karrak Page 6
