The Bane of Karrak_Ascension II of III

by Robert J Marsters

  “I wasn’t lying to you my fine, furry friends. I am not Karrak Dunbar. You can be forgiven for mistaking me for him. I have heard that he has, in the past, disguised himself as one of advanced years. I do, however, take offence at being told that I dress like a beggar, I should roast you alive simply for that. My friends call me Yello, it would please me should you wish to count yourselves among them. We have met once before, briefly I’ll admit, and we were never properly introduced before you departed. Now if you are, like myself, aged and a little forgetful and cannot remember my help in freeing you from Jendilomin’s curse, I shall allow the insult to pass. The only alternative is to release you and allow this unfortunate incident to play out to its inevitable conclusion,” Yello reached up and gently pinched Poom’s cheek. “And I think we all know what that would be,” he said, winking at his captive.

  With a wave of his hand, Yello turned away and released the two Gerrowliens, who landed silently on their feet behind him.

  “Confident old sod, isn’t he, Lawton? Turning his back on us like that.”

  “Oh shut up, Poom, we wouldn’t have a chance. He’s not like old one-eye Hannock.”

  Yello turned slowly. “Indeed, I am not, and I would appreciate a slightly more respectful tone toward Captain Hannock,” he said, pursing his lips.

  The two Gerrowliens began their strange laughter simultaneously. “Oh, but of course, master wizard wouldn’t want to insult golden boy,” said Lawton.

  “You mean golden face, don’t you?” said Poom, “The fast one,” and they both burst into hysterical, snarling laughter.

  “When you have quite finished,” said Yello sternly, “I could use a little help.”

  “What’s up, gammy leg giving you some gip again?” said Poom, flicking his brow up and down.

  “So, you knew who I was, but still chose to attack,” noted Yello.

  “If we thought for a second that you wouldn’t be able to stop that spear, Poom wouldn’t have thrown it,” said Lawton.

  “Hang on a minute!” protested Poom. “That was your idea. I said all we needed to throw was a stone or something. Oh no, you said throw the spear, it’ll be good for a laugh.”

  “I didn’t think you’d actually throw it though,” Lawton retorted in mock defence.

  “Enough!” snapped Yello, raising his voice in frustration. “I don’t care who threw it or whose idea it was. I have the King of Borell hidden beneath a hedge and I’d like to retrieve him before he ends up as worm food, if you don’t mind. Now either stop arguing and help me, or go away. I don’t really care which at the moment.”

  The Gerrowliens looked at Yello, shocked at his statement. “You mean, Jared’s father?” asked Lawton.

  “Yes, Jared’s father, but he’s not altogether himself,” replied Yello.

  “Who is he then?” Poom couldn’t help himself, he had said it as soon as it entered his head, despite it being in very poor taste.

  Lawton glared at him. He kept tight-lipped, despite the many rebukes that he wished to hurl at his friend. Yello turned away and headed toward Tamor’s hiding place followed closely by Lawton. Poom was tagging along, apologising profusely for his untimely quip.

  Tamor was brought into the tavern and set upon a makeshift bed; a table covered with bracken collected by Poom, by way of apology. A blanket was placed on top of the improvised construction before the king was laid upon it gently, allowing him to rest in relative comfort.

  “What’s wrong with him?” asked Lawton. “He doesn’t seem injured.”

  “I wish I knew,” replied Yello. “His mind is tormented somehow. I’ve tried everything I can think of but there’s no getting through to him.”

  “Have you tried slapping him across the face?” asked Poom.

  “I’ll slap you across the face in a minute if you don’t…”

  “No, he’s quite right, Lawton,” said Yello, in Poom’s defence. “Sometimes a second shock can bring one around from the first. However, it is not the sort of thing one does to a king.”

  “So? Did you?” asked Poom again.

  “Yes, but it didn’t work,” replied Yello, curling his lip.

  “You’re as bad as him!” exclaimed Lawton.

  “Desperate times, Lawton, desperate times. Anyway, what are you two doing so far from home? Why have you come back here?” asked Yello.

  “Hissthaar. There are packs of them moving around here apparently, but we’ve only seen half a dozen so far,” replied Lawton.

  “You mean we’ve only killed half a dozen,” said Poom, correcting him.

  Lawton shrugged his shoulders. “Same thing,” he said, smiling.

  “What about the forest nymphs?” asked Yello. “I thought their presence would keep the hissthaar away.”

  “Can’t find them,” replied Poom. “We’ve been about five miles in all directions and there’s no sign of them. Them or Jendilomin.”

  “So, Faylore’s sister is missing as well? Could the hissthaar have killed them?”

  “No signs of a battle. No signs of a struggle, they’re simply not there,” said Poom.

  “How odd. It is going to make things a little more difficult for us tonight though,” said Yello.

  “Us? Tonight?” asked Lawton.

  “Well, I was hoping you might stick around until the morning. I’m done in and need to rest. Travelling with the use of relocation spells is hard work enough for an old chap like me, but to have to carry a passenger as well is exhausting,” replied Yello.

  “Of course, we will, with pleasure,” Poom stated adamantly, still feeling a pang of guilt from his earlier, tasteless joke.

  Lawton rolled his eyes, “You’re pathetic sometimes, Poom.”

  As dusk came, strange hissing sounds could be heard in the distance, but only by the acute hearing of the Gerrowliens. “Hissthaar,” said Poom, growling slightly.

  “Are you sure?” asked Yello.

  “Positive,” replied Poom. “They’re still about a mile away, but definitely headed in this direction.”

  Yello glanced at the open doorway. “Well, that won’t do,” he said. Kicking the remnants of the doors gingerly between the jambs, he chanted quietly. The broken panels slid towards one another on the floor and began to knit together like a jigsaw puzzle, making crackling and snapping noises. Lifting into the air unaided, perfectly repaired, they gently lowered themselves onto their hinges. The Gerrowliens smiled, fascinated at the ease with which Yello had performed the task. The wizard, however, had not finished and a faint glow appeared, seemingly barring not only the door, but also the windows. “That should do it,” he sighed, flopping heavily into the nearest chair.

  “Sorry… do what, exactly?” asked Lawton.

  “Just a simple barrier. No light can be seen from outside the doors or windows and no sound can be heard. Saves us having to sneak about if they get a bit too close for comfort. They won’t even know we’re here.”

  “It hasn’t worked though, has it? I can see straight through the glass,” said Poom.

  “You can see out, but no one can see in. Trust me, we’re quite safe,” smiled Yello.

  ***

  It was now completely dark outside. Poom and Lawton, despite Yello’s assurances, were peering through the windows, aware of every leaf or blade of grass that twitched in the breeze, movements so slight as to go unnoticed by an aged wizard, but not the feline eyes of an alert Gerrowlien. “Here we go,” whispered Lawton. “They’ve arrived, the hissthaar.”

  “Wonderful!” yelled Yello. “I’ve been dying to get a closer look at ’em.”

  “Keep your voice down,” urged Poom. “They’ll hear you.”

  “Don’t be stupid, they can’t hear us, I told you.” Yello limped over to the window and started banging against the frame with his staff. “Over here, you ugly bugger. Come on, let’s have a look at you,” he shouted.

  “What are you doing, you mad old fool? Keep the noise down,” pleaded Lawton. “If there’s more than a dozen, we ma
y be hard pushed to repel them.”

  But the moment of truth was already upon them. As Lawton turned, he saw one of the hissthaar immediately outside the window. Poom leapt up and grabbed his spear, holding it aloft, ready for a battle.

  Yello turned and gave Poom a wry smile. “Watch this,” he chuckled. Then, raising his voice again, he began to hurl abuse and insults at the hissthaar that although was not directed at them, made even Lawton and Poom feel uncomfortable. His foul language was colourful to say the least. The creature could neither hear nor see the wizard. It twisted back and forth as if searching for prey but never gave the windows of the inn a second glance.

  Yello, although thoroughly enjoying his endless torrent of abuse toward the hissthaar was also fascinated by not only its appearance, but its movement. It was reptilian, of that he was sure, probably descended from a type of giant snake or serpent. It had no legs and slithered along the ground. Its body, almost a yard thick beneath its snake-like hooded head, gradually tapered to a point at the tip of its tail. Its musculature allowed it to stand five-feet-tall but with a further five feet coiled on the ground. It had, obviously over time, developed spindly arms jointed at an elbow halfway and the three fingers on its hands were slightly webbed.

  It wore a harness that seemed to be fashioned from a material that resembled leather but was blue, something that Yello had never seen before. Rudimentary weapons were attached to the harness; a hollow cane that could be used as a blowpipe; what appeared to be an axe, just a sharpened or chipped blade of stone lashed to a stick with dried reeds and, further down, a small pouch, made from the same blue leather. The pouch appeared to be steaming, but the steam too was an iridescent blue. Yello grimaced, convinced that whatever the pouch contained was most unpleasant. The apparel, set against the hissthaar’s wet, khaki-coloured skin, made its entire surreal appearance even more the stuff of nightmares, but still Yello could not avert his gaze, marvelling at its prehistoric simplicity. He wanted to capture it, to study it, to converse with it in order to understand its needs and desires. As it silently glided away, he came to his senses and yelled at the top of his voice, “And I bet your mother never won any beauty contests either!”

  The Gerrowliens were laughing uncontrollably, Lawton snorting and Poom writhing around on the floor in hysterics. Never in their long lives had they witnessed anything as unbelievably insane or amusing. Once they had eventually settled, they began to plan their strategy for the following day. “We will guard you with our lives, Yello, but don’t think we’re going to accompany you to that awful fortress of yours,” said Poom.

  “I don’t blame you, it’s an awfully dismal place. Before all this nonsense with Karrak began, I hadn’t been there for about four years,” replied Yello.

  “But it’s where you wizards live, isn’t it?” asked Lawton.

  “Only the boring ones and of course, the old codgers,” he smiled, waiting for any contradiction regarding his age. None was offered.

  “So, what’s your plan then, stay the night and off at first light?” asked Poom.

  “Yes. The only problem is that I won’t be able to complete the journey back to Reiggan in one go. I’ll need to get a bit closer before the final relocation spell and with those things around…” he replied, gesturing toward the window, “… it’ll be difficult to fend them off should they attack, and protect him at the same time,” he continued, pointing at the still-comatose Tamor.

  “How much closer do you need to get before you can magic him back home?” asked Poom.

  “At least another thirty miles,” replied Yello.

  “Oh, that’ll only take a couple of hours then,” said Lawton.

  Yello laughed. “Maybe for you,” he said, “but not for a middle-aged gentleman such as myself.”

  “Here’s a thought. Do you think you could do two of your magic do-dahs in one day if one of them was by yourself?” asked Poom.

  “Poom, the spoken word to you is merely an art form with which to be toyed, isn’t it? To hear your dulcet tones as they utter such profound understanding is simply breath-taking,” said Lawton, sarcastically.

  “Shut your face fatty, he knows what I mean.”

  “And there it is again. Words pouring from your lips as freely as a crystal-clear mountain stream.”

  “Listen, Lawton, friend or not, if you don’t shut your face I swear I’ll…”

  “I know exactly what you mean, Poom,” said Yello, deciding that their banter had lasted long enough, “but what about the king?”

  “Easy…” replied Poom, “… Lawton can carry him.”

  “I don’t think so,” Yello scoffed. “He’s a big man, and if I may say, more than a little overweight. You couldn’t carry him thirty miles in two hours.”

  Lawton raised his eyebrows, a little insulted at Yello’s disbelief of his capabilities. Walking across to Tamor, he gently took hold of the front of the king’s tunic. In a single, effortless movement he raised the sleeping monarch above his head with one arm.

  Poom folded his arms, “You were saying?”

  CHAPTER 9

  “He’s been gone too long, Emnor. Something must have gone wrong.”

  “What do you suggest we do, Jared, go after him? What if he’s not far from here and in our haste we pass him by? No, I’m afraid we must be patient. We’ll give him another couple of days and if he hasn’t returned then, and only then, we shall set out to find him.”

  “I think you’re all barking mad, if you’ll forgive my frankness, Your Highness,” said Hannock. “Forget that stupid device you found and let’s just go and search for Karrak. I know Yello’s a friend of yours, Emnor, but with his wounded leg and the fact that he’s at least a million years old, he’ll only slow us down if he comes with us anyway.”

  “You do not hold much faith in wizards do you, Hannock?” asked Emnor.

  “In you, I do, and to a point, Jared, but I don’t like the idea of a stranger along for the ride,” snapped Hannock.

  Emnor was sitting with his hands on his knees and the light around him began to dim noticeably as he leaned forward. The air grew cold. A distinct frost appeared across the backs of his hands and the old wizard’s breath could be seen leaving his lips as he spoke in a slow, unfamiliar, deep, growling tone, “Tread very carefully, Hannock. Yellodius Tarrock and I have been friends since before you, your father or your grandfather were even thought of. He is the most courageous, honourable, loyal man I have met in over a thousand years. He has fought in battles and destroyed monsters that would haunt your dreams for decades and had wounds that would leave a giant in tears and not complained once. He has saved my life countless times and I his. He is no stranger. If he chooses to aid us in our attempt to defeat Karrak, trust me, we shall be the passengers.”

  Hannock, for the first time ever, was fearful of Emnor, and it showed, “Forgive me, I had no right to cast aspersions on a character that is unknown to me. I meant no offence to either you or him.”

  Emnor sat back, the light returned and the frost on his hands quickly melted and now appeared as beads of water. He rose from his seat, scowled at Jared, and hurried away, staff in hand. Jared glared at Hannock, “Now see what you’ve done.”

  Hannock lowered his head, slightly ashamed at having unintentionally insulted Emnor.

  A voice spoke quietly from the other side of the courtyard, “Soldier boy, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

  Hannock looked across to see Drake standing, wand in hand, flanked by his three closest friends. They too were holding their wands. “I’ve warned you before about calling me that, boy,” he said sternly.

  “What makes you think you can warn any one of us, Captain?” asked Harley. “Maybe it’s you who should be warned. You use a sword, a crossbow, but mostly your big mouth. Do you think that any of those could possibly defend you against us?”

  “Do you think that your standing with House Dunbar has any bearing on events that take place here, in Reiggan?” asked Alex.

&nb
sp; “Do you think that you can stand as our guest and under our protection, and be allowed to insult the head of the Administration?” asked Xarran. “That we would not defend the honour of the greatest wizard of his age as you would defend the honour of your beloved Prince Jared?” The four were moving closer, slowly crossing one another as if performing a strangely choreographed, slow-motion dance and asking their questions quietly and methodically.

  “Now see here boys, this has gone quite far enough, show a little respect…” but Hannock’s defensive stance was interrupted.

  “Boys? Is that all you think of us as, little boys?” snapped Harley. “Who can be ordered around as easily as your thick-headed soldiers?” he added, twitching his wand and causing Hannock to be thrown to the ground.

  Jared stepped forward to shield his friend. “Enough!” he shouted. “We don’t want things getting out of hand. Lower your wands and go about your business.”

  “So, now it’s your turn to start barking orders, is it? I don’t think so!” Harley slashed the air with his wand causing a firebolt to blast toward Jared. Jared blocked it easily. Holding up one hand, he created a fog that extinguished the firebolt before it reached halfway.

  Hannock was horrified. Had these young wizards gone mad? Or even worse, had they changed allegiance? Were they in support of Karrak? Had he sent them to do his bidding in order to destroy Jared and all who were loyal to him? He attempted to get to his feet but was, once again, felled by the same unseen force that had pushed him to the ground initially. This time, however, he was unsure who was responsible and the effects were slightly different. His limbs were frozen, not cold, but immobilized. He was unable to move and thrashed his head back and forth. He needed to help Jared but, alas, his head was all that he could move as he watched the onslaught with which Jared was having to contend.

  Each of the young wizards seemed to take a turn in attacking Jared. Another firebolt flew through the air but was as easily dissipated as the first, followed rapidly by razor sharp shards of ice that were dealt with in much the same way. They were mere feet from Jared as he whirled around, surrounded by green flame, melting the ice instantly.