The Bane of Karrak_Ascension II of III

by Robert J Marsters

  The light was beginning to fail and Lodren’s mind was wandering into ‘catering mode’; his only real interest, whatever their circumstances. Grubb was stroking Buster’s mane and thinking of nothing in particular when, with a gentle wave of her hand, Faylore brought them to a halt. As Buster stopped, Lodren and Grubb looked up. Ahead of Faylore, the hillocks that she now faced were double that of those around them, and although four distinct peaks could be made out, they seemed fused together as one.

  “What is it?” whispered Lodren, glancing at Grubb, who shrugged his shoulders and slid from Buster’s back.

  “Not sure,” he replied. “But it’s not that big, we can just go ‘round. It’ll only take five minutes.”

  “We do not need to go around, Grubb,” advised Faylore, turning to face him. “We need to go through.”

  With this, she moved closer and took a knee, urging her companions to do the same. “My lords,” she announced, “forgive my intrusion. Unfortunately, it is unavoidable for I seek your counsel.”

  Grubb rubbed his brow briskly, “’Ere we go again,” he sighed. “First, ’er sister talkin’ to trees, now she’s talkin’ to hills made of ice.”

  Lodren nudged him and scowled, “Don’t say things like that about Faylore,” he hissed. “She obviously knows something we don’t.”

  “Well, I hope so. My knees are freezin’,” grumbled Grubb.

  There were a few moments of silence as Lodren and Grubb looked on with interest, their eyes darting from side to side, dreading what might suddenly appear from behind the ice mounds.

  The first noise they heard was a gentle splintering sound, the same as when you drop an ice cube into liquid, and not frightening in the least. The second, however, was the rumbling as the ground began to tremble, and this was mildly unsettling. Then the crackling began, similar to that of a thousand whips being used in unison. Then, the bright, golden light.

  The hills before them began to fracture, huge chunks of ice breaking away and rolling down the sides of them. The light was actually emanating from within them until, suddenly, all four peaks exploded.

  Lodren and Grubb threw up their arms to protect their faces, expecting to be ripped to shreds by the flying shards of ice. Buster reared up in terror, his whinnying like that of a screaming child. But, unbeknownst to them, they were in no real danger. The ice was reduced to a vapour well before it reached them and, realising their survival, they uncovered their eyes.

  Directly in front of them, a huge cloud of mist had appeared and they became more than a little anxious when their eyesight could not pierce it. Only then did they notice Faylore’s gaze. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at them. It was a serene, calming smile to let them know that all was well. The mist cloud began to dissipate. There was a glow from within that pulsed silently and gently. Suddenly, there was a roar as flames rose high into the air. The mist cleared almost immediately. The beings within stretched their wings and stood on their hind legs, their fiery breath illuminating the sky.

  They were in the company of dragons.

  ***

  Yello had placed a cushion under Tamor’s head and covered him, unusual in itself as Yello was not the type of wizard to pamper anyone. But neither was he a fool. He understood that Tamor was a king and should be treated with respect, if not for that fact alone, then for the fact that he was Jared’s father. Placing a goblet of water against Tamor’s lips, Yello encouraged the king to sip at it, although he was still quite delirious. “Drink, Your Majesty, it’s only water, you seem a little dehydrated, drink.”

  Tamor’s eyes opened wide. It was obvious that despite his rest, he was still terrified, “No more, I can take no more, the pain it’s…”

  “Be at ease, Your Majesty, nothing will harm you. You are safe now,” Yello assured him.

  “NO! You don’t understand, nobody is safe, not from him. He can invade your mind…” ranted Tamor.

  “Who can invade your mind, Sire? Tell me,” Yello, despite a lack of tolerance for anyone suffering with any mental affliction, remained calm.

  “The Shadow Lord,” whispered Tamor.

  “The Shadow Lord? Do you mean Karrak?”

  There was an urgency in Tamor’s reply. “Do not speak his name. If he hears you, he will return. You will suffer the same fate as the others,” he hissed.

  “What others? Do you mean your guard?” asked Yello.

  Tamor grasped Yello’s arm. “Everyone,” he replied. “My personal guard, the soldiers, the townsfolk, he took them all.”

  “What do you mean by ‘took them’, Your Majesty?”

  “He assembled them in the market square, made me watch as he turned some of them into mindless slaves. I did not realise that they were the lucky ones. The rest he turned into twisted, snarling beasts. They screamed in pain as they changed, their faces contorted as their very bones cracked. Their features stretched and sprouted huge teeth and their arms became legs as they writhed on the floor in agony. I was powerless to aid them. My people were destroyed, yet live on as monsters, twisted and mindless.”

  Yello paused for a moment. Would pressing the king for more information be wise? Would the added pressure send him beyond the edge of reason? Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of sentiment and continued with his questioning, “Was the shadow lord Prince Karrak, Your Majesty? Was it your son?”

  Tamor had not released Yello’s arm and now tightened his grip as he stared at him with pleading eyes. “Yes,” he whispered. “It was Karrak. He was different, his face… it’s…” Tamor’s voice tailed off, and his gaze now was to the floor.

  “Your Majesty,” urged Yello, gently shaking the distraught king. “Where did he take them? What became of them?”

  Tamor had slipped into a trance of his own. No matter how Yello tried, he could get no reply. How could he get Tamor back to Reiggan? It had taken him well over a day to reach Borell whilst he was by himself. With a lunatic in tow, it would be a far more difficult task to get them both back safely. He couldn’t leave him behind, he may harm himself. Karrak may return or he could wander off into the forest and be at the mercy of wild beasts. This was going to take some planning. Replacing the cushion, he lay Tamor down and covered him.

  He must begin his search, his mission was to find something that belonged to Karrak in order for them to locate him, but how could he achieve this now? He did not even know which chambers were Karrak’s, let alone what possessions were his. He placed his hand on Tamor’s shoulder. Shaking his head, he turned away and headed toward the door. Once through, he ventured toward the stairs, pausing at the foot of them as he looked up. “Oh well, I suppose I have to start somewhere,” he said, as he placed his foot on the first step. He drifted from chamber to chamber, unsure of exactly what it was he was looking for. Perhaps a weapon that the prince may have wielded, or if he was really lucky, a tome on the subject of necromancy. He chuckled at his own optimism.

  Hours later and still no closer to finding anything obvious, he wandered into yet another chamber. He pawed through chests and closets, but again, found nothing unusual. Feeling slightly fatigued, he sat on the bed and pressed his hands into it, enjoying the luscious, soft feel of the mattress. A piece of cloth rolled down into the dip he had created and settled onto the back of his hand. He flicked it away inadvertently and it landed on the floor by his foot. He scrunched his eyes up, recalling a conversation that he had had with Emnor. Hannock cracked him across the back of the skull with a pikestaff… took him to his chambers, bound and GAGGED. Could it possibly be? Had he been fortunate enough to find the very gag that had been placed in Karrak’s mouth years before? Would his chambers have been left undisturbed since the day of his departure for Reiggan? It was a bit of a stretch, he had to admit, but optimistically, he snatched the rag from the ground and placed it in his robes. He would continue with his search but, in his heart of hearts, knew that there was no need. This initially insignificant piece of cloth would lead them to Karrak.

  His pace
quickened as he hurried from chamber to chamber, half-heartedly checking cupboards and chests, convinced that this was unnecessary. He returned to Tamor and held the cloth in front of his eyes. “Do you recognise this?” he asked. “Is this the gag they used to silence Karrak?” he continued, shaking Tamor more violently than before. But it was pointless, Tamor lay motionless and continued to stare into infinity.

  ***

  Jared folded his arms, looking a little impressed with his own achievement.

  “What are you looking all smug about?” yelled Xarran. “You only travelled about fifty yards. At that rate, it’d take forever for you to get anywhere.”

  Emnor raised his arm swiftly as if to stretch it. Xarran let out a yelp, shot forward about six feet and landed face first in a muddy puddle. “Were you saying something, Xarran?” he asked.

  Xarran was rubbing the back of his head. “I was just saying how well Prince Jared’s relocation spells were coming along, Master,” he replied quickly.

  “How very polite of you. Now find something of importance to do or I’ll find something for you,” smiled Emnor. Xarran made himself scarce, followed by Drake, who was, as usual, in fits of laughter at someone else’s misfortune. They disappeared into Reiggan.

  “He’s quite right, of course, you do realise that, don’t you, Jared?” asked Emnor.

  “He might be,” admitted Jared. “It’s just not natural, blasting about faster than a bird can fly. It makes my head spin every time I do it.”

  “Ah, but you are doing it, aren’t you, Your Highness?” noted Hannock.

  “It doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it. I need a bucket every time.”

  “How positively charming. One can immediately tell that you’re royalty, Jared.”

  “Hannock, if you don’t shut it, I’m going to stick my boot up your a…”

  “Ah, there you are, Harley,” called Emnor. “Would you mind helping out with Prince Jared’s lessons?”

  “My pleasure, Master Emnor,” replied Harley. “How can I help?”

  “Relocation sickness, I’m afraid,” replied Emnor.

  “So, when you said help, you meant bring him some water?”

  “Exactly,” replied Emnor.

  “So, why not just ask me to fetch him some water?” asked Harley.

  Hannock marched forward and quickly steered Harley away. “We’ll both go,” he said.

  When they were far enough away, Harley turned to Hannock, obviously annoyed at being asked to perform such a menial task. “Can’t your bloody prince get himself a drink of water?” he snapped.

  “Take a deep breath, Harley. I know exactly how you feel,” replied Hannock.

  “No, you don’t, you have no idea. You’re a captain of the guard, how would you?”

  “Do you think I was born a captain? Trust me, I’ve cleaned the boots of thousands of men who didn’t even deserve to be wearing a uniform. I’ve been kicked up the backside, slapped around the head and made fun of more times than you’ve gotten out of bed,” laughed Hannock.

  “Sorry, Hannock, I didn’t mean to have a go at you. It just feels so unfair some days. I’m supposed to be Emnor’s apprentice, not a water-carrier.”

  “It’s all about following orders, Harley. If you can’t follow a simple order to fetch some water, it’s a bit of a poor deal. It’s a mundane task I’ll admit, but if you’re not willing to do that when you’re asked, how will you react if you have to follow an order that could put you or a friend in danger?”

  “Hadn’t thought of it like that,” admitted Harley.

  “I’ve been watching your Master Emnor. He trusts you as much as he trusts himself. There’s a valuable lesson to be learned there, young man, I suggest you learn it.” Hannock smiled at Harley. If anyone could understand the young wizard’s frustration, it was him. He slapped Harley on the shoulder as he handed him the water bucket. “And make sure the ladle’s clean,” he laughed.

  Harley grabbed the bucket and ran to the well. A few moments later he returned and he and Hannock approached Jared.

  “Your water, Your Highness,” announced Harley, holding out the ladle.

  “Bit formal, isn’t it, Harley?” asked Jared. “I thought we were all friends here?”

  “We are,” replied Harley, “but you are still a prince.”

  “And a bit of a prat,” shouted Drake, immediately throwing his hands into the air, not wanting to receive the same magical smack in the back of the head as Xarran. “I’m just saying, Master Emnor. We’re all entitled to our opinion. With what he has around his neck, he should be zipping across the courtyard and through walls without even feeling it.”

  Emnor scowled at Drake. He knew, better than any, the power that was at Jared’s disposal. A power of which Jared was still unaware. “Hold your tongue, Drake,” snapped Emnor. “You should not speak of that which you do not fully understand.”

  “I’m sorry, Master, but if we’re to succeed, Jared has to be told. We don’t have the time to waste here. Karrak’s out there torturing and murdering at will while we’re stuck in here, watching Jared learning first level magic that a five-year-old child is capable of. You can’t keep protecting him, he has to know.”

  Jared gave Emnor a puzzled look. “What’s he talking about? Emnor, is there something you aren’t telling me regarding this?” he asked, holding up the Heart of Ziniphar.

  “Only the fact that it’s the only way you can defeat your lunatic brother,” said Drake.

  “Be quiet, Drake! You’ve already said too much,” shouted Harley.

  Hannock had heard enough and decided it was time to step in, “I think tempers are becoming a little frayed here. Maybe you should all calm down. It’s obvious that there is more to that talisman you gave to Jared than you let on, Emnor. Time to tell us exactly what the secret is, don’t you think?”

  Emnor lowered his head. Drake was right, of course. Emnor had mentored Jared since he was a boy and had come to think of him as far more than a mere friend. To put him in danger was the last thing he wanted to do. However, he knew that one day, that was precisely what he must do. He had procrastinated, hoping that another solution may arise, one that meant that Jared would not have to face Karrak. He sighed and gave a weak smile. “I think it is about time we sat and talked, Your Highness,” he said. Beckoning to the group, Emnor entered Reiggan Fortress.

  They gathered in one of the larger chambers. Emnor had sent Drake to inform the others of the meeting, and now they all stood facing the head of the Administration. Emnor cleared his throat, “Please forgive me my friends, but I have not been entirely truthful with you. I would never lie to you, but I have made a few omissions.”

  Hannock leaned back against a desk and folded his arms. “Such as?” he asked quietly.

  “You are all aware of the existence of the Peneriphus Scroll, I presume?”

  “The scroll that prophesied the coming of the one sorcerer said to be destined to rule the world?” asked Hannock.

  “The very one, Captain,” replied Emnor.

  “You’re saying that there’s something in it that you didn’t want us to know?” asked Jared.

  “There is something in it that I did not want to believe, Jared. Unfortunately, the events that were prophesied have so far been accurate, despite my efforts to bring about any deviation from them.”

  “Alright, that’s enough, Emnor. Time to fill in the blanks,” sighed Hannock.

  “Of course, Hannock. You all know what Karrak has achieved so far. The evidence is all around us. What you may not know is that he has already taken a kingdom for his own,” announced Emnor.

  “Borell! You mean Borell,” breathed Jared.

  “No, Jared, not Borell,” replied Emnor. “At least not that I am aware of. He has taken Merrsdan, the largest kingdom of the north, and now sits on the throne.”

  “He’s declared himself a king!” exclaimed Jared.

  “I don’t believe that to be the case, Jared. I believe he simply took it because he cou
ld,” replied Emnor.

  “How could taking a kingdom that far north affect us?” asked Hannock. “It makes no sense.”

  “I don’t think anyone in this room would accuse Karrak of being sensible, Captain. This is nothing more than a show of strength, a fear tactic. If he can take Merrsdan so easily, surely, all others would surrender unconditionally?”

  “How did you discover this, Emnor?” asked Jared. “You’ve had no contact with the outside world since we arrived here.”

  “See what I mean about him being a bit of a prat?” laughed Drake.

  “Thank you, Maddleton. Please, do not interrupt again,” said Emnor, glaring at Drake. “That is not entirely true, Jared. I have, on occasion, had to venture outside the walls.”

  “So, whilst we’re asleep, you just nip out and have a bit of a mooch around. Is that how it works, sneaking around in the dark?” asked Hannock, suspiciously.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite so bluntly,” replied Emnor. “Reconnaissance, would have been a more descriptive term, Captain.”

  “There’s still something you’re not telling us, Emnor,” said Jared, his frustration showing. “Get to the point. What does the scroll say?”

  Emnor took a deep breath. There was no easy way for him to say what he needed to. “In order for the second born to be defeated, the firstborn must be consumed by the same flame,” he announced.

  “What!” exclaimed Hannock, “You mean Karrak and Jared have to be burned to death, together?”

  “Of course not, the scroll is not that literal. It means that if Karrak dies, so does Jared,” replied Emnor.

  “That’s preposterous! There must be some other way? Get me close enough and I’ll put a golden bolt through his skull before he realises I’m there,” ranted Hannock.

  “Hannock, you wouldn’t get within a mile of him before he detected you, or indeed, any of us,” said Emnor.

  “Well, I wouldn’t announce myself with a fanfare, would I?” Hannock shouted.