Mark of The Nibrilsiem: Set before The Ascension of Karrak (The Karrak Trilogy Book 4)

by Robert J Marsters

  “Grimbarr is many things, Ballorn, but foolish is not one of them,” sighed Volknar. “I’m afraid you will have to enter the caverns and hunt him down.”

  “Right then,” said Ballorn, confidently. Raising his hammer, he placed it on his shoulder and began to march forward onto the ice. “Let’s go find a dragon!”

  Hunter shrugged his shoulders and hurried after him, closely followed by the four wizards.

  “Hang on!” cried Stitch. “Wait a minute, don’t you want to get yourself prepared or something? Ballorn? Ballorn, I’m talking to you!” His shoulders dropped, “I’m going to regret this, I just know I am,” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly shuffled after them. As he caught up, he caught sight of Ballorn’s outstretched arm clutching his fur coat.

  “Need this?” asked the Nibrilsiem.

  “Thanks very much,” mumbled Stitch, thrusting his arms into the sleeves.

  Soon they were stood around the mound of snow. Ballorn gave the wizards a questioning look.

  “Don’t look at me!” said Porflax. “This wasn’t my idea, I just joined in!”

  “Nor me!” exclaimed Barden. “I thought I was just supposed to bring you to Volknar! I had no idea I’d be roped into your dragonslaying escapade!”

  “Typical! Ask for advice and you can’t shut a wizard up, ask ‘em for an idea and they haven’t a clue!” Ballorn raised his hammer.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” cried Stitch.

  “What now?”

  “If you smash the ground beneath us we could all fall in and be killed! We don’t know how deep these caverns are, couldn’t you just give the ground a gentle tap?”

  “We’re not going to get in just by clearing the snow off the top, Stitch. I’ll have to give it some welly if I’m going to break through.”

  “I know that,” said Stitch, apprehensively, “I’m just advising you to hold back a bit and, thinking about it… that’s what I’ll do… I’ll move back a bit.”

  With the others at a safe distance, Ballorn raised his hammer once more. Considering what Stitch had just suggested he struck the ground with little more force than the hammer’s own weight. Other than disturbing the snow slightly, it had no effect. He glanced up at Stitch and rolled his eyes. “I’ll give it another go.”

  “Remember, Ballorn, not too much,” warned Stitch.

  Ballorn’s second strike had much more of an effect as the mound of snow began to sink. Slowly, it levelled out as if gently sifting through a colander. Ballorn believed that one more blow would do the trick, but even as he raised his hammer, the snow continued to sink. There was a visible dip that was getting deeper as they watched it.

  “You must have made a small hole and all the snow is sinking into it,” said Barden, but his expression changed as he realised what was actually happening.

  A brilliant white light could now be seen penetrating what was left of the mound of snow as it melted away. A strange layer of pulsating light covered a perfectly cut hole in the solid rock. They moved forward simultaneously, standing around the edge and peering down, unsure of what they would see.

  “Flippin’ ‘eck!” cried Stitch. “If we’d have fallen down there, we’d have been goners for sure! It must be a hundred feet deep!”

  “Well, have fun down there, we’ll see you when you get back,” said Yello.

  “You will be careful, won’t you? We’d rather not have to come and sweep up the bits of you that are left if it all goes wrong,” chuckled Emnor.

  “What? You’re not coming with us?”

  “After all the hard work you’ve done, Barden?” smiled Yello, “It would be very bad form of us to be involved right at the very end and hog all the glory, don’t you think?”

  “Bloody wizards!” Ballorn mumbled under his breath.

  “I knew this would come in handy sooner or later,” said Hunter, unravelling a slender rope. “I just hope it’s long enough to get us all the way down.”

  “Where did you get that from?” asked Stitch, “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “I always carry it, you just haven’t noticed it,” he replied, flinging it forward. He was shocked when it simply landed on the light that covered the hole and just lay there. “Ah, well I never expected that! How are we supposed to get down into the caverns if we can’t even get through that shield thing?” But, even as he said it, the rope slipped through and dropped into the cavern below.

  “It must be some sort of safety feature,” suggested Yello. “You know, so that you don’t fall in accidentally.”

  “We could do with something like that in Reiggan when he’s trying out his spells,” chuckled Emnor, pointing at Barden.

  Barden raised an eyebrow, “Well you won’t have to worry about that for the time being will you? You’ll be up here, safe and sound.”

  “Not at all!” exclaimed Yello. “A fellow could catch his death out here, at least you’ll be nice and warm.”

  “A bit too warm, if you get too close to that dragon,” laughed Emnor.

  “Have you two quite finished with your comedy act?” asked Ballorn, drolly. “Only there’s something I’m sure we should be doing.”

  Hunter, having quickly tired of their banter, had already taken the initiative. Turning, they were amazed that, not only was he already standing in the middle of the light, but also beginning to sink into it. Holding the rope tied to a batch of arrows that he had driven deep into the ice, he winked at them cheekily. It amused him that they had not even noticed what he had been doing, “I’ll see you down there.”

  Barden was next to venture through the light, but it was slightly more difficult for one as advanced in years as Porflax. Ballorn persuaded him that it would be far easier for him to carry the old wizard on his back, but Stitch was a different proposition entirely. Ballorn remembered how Barden had enchanted him when it was time to ride on Keldenar’s back and, with hindsight, wished that the young wizard had not already descended into the caverns.

  “Just give me a minute. I’ll be fine. No, really, Ballorn, I can do this. After all, it’s only a rope. You go first. That way if I fall, you can catch me.”

  “You’re not going to fall, Stitch, you’re far braver than you give yourself credit for. Now, take hold of the rope, that’s it… now, move towards the hole. A bit further, no, further than that. Stitch, you’re moving sideways, you’re not getting any closer to the hole. Now you’re going the other way, you need to move back. Good grief, we’ll be here all day at this rate.” His patience got the better of him and he grabbed Stitch by his lapels. Lifting him off his feet, he marched forward and placed the tailor in the middle of the light. “Just keep hold of the rope,” he advised, backing away.

  Stitch had his eyes tight shut and knew nothing more until he felt the tug of gravity once had passed through the light. He opened one eye and peeped down. “OH, MY DAYS!” he cried. “I’m going to die! Somebody get me down, I’m stuck!” Just when he thought his predicament could not be worse, the rope started to shake. “It’s going to break!” he exclaimed.

  “It’s not going to break, Stitch. It’s just me coming to help you.”

  Peeping down, Stitch saw Hunter below him, “Put your feet on my shoulders, but don’t let go of the rope. I’ll lower us down but you have to move your hands, okay?”

  A minute later, they were safely on the ground. Stitch looked very pleased with himself, “See,” he said proudly, “I told you I could do it.”

  Once Porflax and Ballorn had joined them, they gazed at the wonderous beauty of the cavern. Tiny pinpricks of light were embedded in the walls, diamonds that had formed there over countless eons.

  “If Dannard was here, he’d be wanting to collect some of these,” grinned Stitch. He glared at Barden, “But he’s not, is he, ‘cause you killed him!”

  Barden rolled his eyes, “I never killed anyone, he wasn’t even real,” he protested.

  “He was real to me!” shrieked Stitch. “But you…”

  Barden’s head dropped, �
��Will somebody please try to explain it to him?” he begged.

  Ballorn puffed out his chest, “Grimbarr!” he called, mockingly. “Where are you, Grimbarr? I’m coming to get you.”

  Porflax took a few steps towards Ballorn and held up his hand, “Do you really think that teasing him is a good idea? Perhaps stealth would be a better option.”

  “That won’t do us any good,” said Barden. “He already knows we’re here.”

  Their blood ran cold as they heard a deep, menacing growl. The expanse of the caverns amplified it as it echoed around the walls. They were in no doubt that it was a warning from Grimbarr, but for now he was choosing to remain hidden.

  Ballorn glanced at his companions, “I’ll go on alone,” he said grimly. “It’s me he’s waiting for. You lot just wait here until I return.”

  “Hah,” laughed Hunter. “That’s not going to happen!” Standing next to Ballorn, he placed his arm around the Nibrilsiem’s shoulders and whispered in his ear, “He won’t expect to have more than one target. That may just give us an edge.”

  Yello and Emnor watched their escapades from above.

  “Bit of a shame, don’t you think, Emmy? We’re part of one of the greatest adventures of our time yet, once it is done, we must never speak of it.”

  “Well, not to anyone else anyway. But that doesn’t mean we can’t speak to each other about it.”

  “And what if someone overhears what we’ve said?”

  A mischievous grin appeared on Emnor’s face, “We could just zap ‘em a bit!”

  “Emnor, surely you’re not suggesting that we could alter someone’s memories?” chuckled Yello.

  “Why not?” said Emnor. “We’ve done it before, or should I say you’ve done it before.”

  “He deserved it, robbing swine! Nothing could justify the prices he…”

  “He was an innkeeper, Yello! It’s hardly ethical to erase someone’s memory simply because you don’t want to pay your bar bill!”

  “Oh well, what’s done is done,” chuntered Yello. “We must focus on the present. There may be more than one person who needs zapping before today is done,” he added, pointing into the hole.

  ***

  “We’re getting nearer,” whispered Ballorn, “I can feel it.”

  “Perhaps we should split up,” suggested Barden.

  “Good idea,” Stitch agreed. “The wizards can go that way, you and Hunter go that way, and I’ll go back the way we came,” he added, turning and trying to slink away.

  “You get back here!” Ballorn ordered. “What are you going to do if you come face-to-face with Grimbarr by yourself?”

  “I’ve got a plan,” Stitch told him.

  “Which is?” asked Hunter.

  “Run like the clappers!” Stitch replied nervously.

  “You’ll stay with us where we can keep you safe,” Ballorn informed him. “Just do what I say when I say it and you won’t come to any harm.”

  Hunter considered what Barden had said. More than one target, he thought.

  They were travelling through a narrow part of the caverns but noticed that the next chamber ahead of them was even larger than the one into which they had descended. It differed greatly with faint smoke filling the air and a distinct smell of burning. Even before entering, they could feel the heat coming from it.

  “He’s in there,” Ballorn growled.

  “Makes sense,” Barden agreed. “The warmer the better for a dragon.”

  “Hunter, see if there’s anywhere you can climb once we get inside the chamber and the wizards can make their way to the opposite side,” said Ballorn.

  “What about you?” asked Hunter.

  “Well I’ve got the armour and the hammer,” replied Ballorn. “They’ll keep me safe if you can distract him for a second or two. Then I’ll be going straight for his throat!”

  “That won’t do you any good, Ballorn,” Barden told him. “You need to target the crystal.”

  “You need to go for his legs,” suggested Porflax. “Bring him down so that you can reach it.”

  “Great!” exclaimed Ballorn. “I’ve got to face a fire-breathing dragon and your advice is to stamp on its foot!”

  “Well it’s either that or jump fifty feet into the air! I’m sure even you can’t do that, Ballorn,” muttered Porflax.

  Hunter surveyed the walls as they entered the chamber, “There’s nowhere to climb, Ballorn, these walls are far too smooth! There’s not so much as a foothold to be seen.”

  Ballorn sighed as he stared at the billowing smoke at the far end of the cavern. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, Hunter. It’s too late anyway.”

  The gout of flame and deafening roar could mean only one thing:

  They had found Grimbarr!

  Ballorn gestured for the others to move away from him. The wizards hurried to the right whilst Hunter went left dragging poor Stitch with him.

  “What’s this!” roared Ballorn. “Even now you choose to stay hidden from me, Grimbarr. The terror of Pordan, hiding like a frightened child!”

  There was another roar and gout of flame, proof that Grimbarr was concealed by the dense smoke. “You should not have come here, Nibrilsiem. All that awaits you in this place… is death!”

  “It’ll take a bit more than a cloud of smoke to finish me, Grimbarr. Why don’t you show yourself and we can get this over with.”

  Slowly, the dragon emerged, wisps of smoke drifting from its nostrils. Its scaled hide was unlike any other, charcoal grey, sparking and fizzing like tiny lightning strikes.

  “So you’re what everyone’s scared of?” laughed Ballorn.

  “I do not recall a sense of bravado when last we met, Nibrilsiem,” replied Grimbarr, calmly. “More a sense of dread. I know not how you eluded me that day, but I will not allow you to escape me again.”

  Not wanting the dragon to see, Ballorn placed his hand over his face and glanced to see if the others were clear. Hunter had already placed an arrow against his bowstring and the wizards had pulled up their sleeves. It seemed that they were all as ready as they could be for the battle that was about to commence.

  Ambling forward, Ballorn wagged his finger at the dragon, “If your plan is to talk me to death or keep me here long enough so that I die of old age, you’re doing a good job,” he groaned. “So what say we do this the old-fashioned way? You bare your teeth and breath fire, and I’ll smash your face in with my hammer!” he bellowed.

  “How do you expect to defeat me when you know so little, Nibrilsiem?” asked Grimbarr, advancing slowly. “I am no mere fire-breather, I have harnessed the very power of the heavens within me. I am the power, I am the storm, I am the wrath that exists to cleanse this earth of infestations such as you!” He lowered his head as the sparks around his body began to arc. “You cannot win!” he roared.

  Ballorn had heard enough. He charged forward, hammer raised, and he too roared.

  Grimbarr had not expected the Nibrilsiem to be so headstrong and stood his ground, waiting. Baring his teeth, he basked in how glorious it would feel to tear his foe apart. However, his illusion was short lived as silver arrows and spells rained down on him. He roared in anger, blinded momentarily by pain, something he had never felt before.

  It was the distraction that Ballorn needed, and he swung his hammer with all his might. Surely that will bring him down, he thought. But he was mistaken.

  Grimbarr stumbled backwards but did not fall. Slashing wildly with his claws, he caught Ballorn a glancing blow. Ballorn fell backwards and was barely quick enough to roll out of the way as Grimbarr attempted to stamp on him. Rolling back, Ballorn swung his hammer again, striking Grimbarr in the same place as before. The frantic confusion was difficult for him to cope with as the sparks emanating from Grimbarr’s scales were reflected off his armour, blinding flashes hindering his sight and loud cracks that were deafening. He clambered to his feet and charged again. His second blow had had more of an effect and the dragon was visibly limping but st
ill able to mount an attack of its own. Its head swooped down, ready to eviscerate Ballorn but the Nibrilsiem thrust his hammer into the air, smashing it into the dragon’s jaw.

  Ballorn turned and scowled at Hunter, “Watch what you’re doing, you berk!” he bellowed as an arrow narrowly missed him. “Or was it something I said? Ooh, bugger!” He ducked just in time as Grimbarr took another swipe at him. Now that was a bit too close, he thought, resuming his attack.

  “Wait until he’s weakened it, then we can finish the job and get rid of those three at the same time,” hissed Porflax.

  “Excellent idea,” panted Barden. “Any idea how long that’ll take?” he asked, sarcastically.

  “I don’t like admitting it,” confessed Porflax, “but, you seem to be a lot more powerful than I am, so you finish off the dragon and the Nibrilsiem and I’ll take care of the other two. Then we can take the crystal!”

  Barden gave him a sideways glance. There was no way he was going to allow the old wizard to get his hands on his prize. “Fine,” he said, coldly.

  Hunter was running low on silver arrows, “If Ballorn doesn’t bring that dragon down soon, he’ll be on his own!”

  “He’ll be alright, Hunter, he’s still got the wizards helping him,” Stitch said, trying to raise his spirits.

  “Hardly!” exclaimed Hunter. “I’m far more accurate than they are, and I’ve nearly hit him a couple of times. The way they’re blasting away, they’ll do the dragon’s job for it!”

  Ballorn continued dodging and weaving but was beginning to grow weary. Each blow he struck had less effect than the last and the dragon was beginning to connect with more of his own. He lunged at the Nibrilsiem and swung his claws as hard as he could. Ballorn jumped to the side and Grimbarr cleaved a huge lump of rock from the ground which sailed through the air toward the wizards.

  It smashed against the wall, many of the larger pieces striking Porflax and sending him reeling. A few shards caught Barden, slicing his cheek and brow but not harming him significantly. This was his chance. Making out that his wounds were far worse than they were he pretended to fall, but not before blasting the wall with a spell directly above Porflax. The rock above the old wizard exploded and the falling debris crushed him, killing him instantly. One problem solved, he thought. Staggering to his feet he stumbled toward the rubble in which Porflax was buried. Too engrossed by his own act, he was not paying attention and as he neared the wizard’s corpse, more debris from the broken wall crashed down. He was struck on the side of the head, sending his eyes reeling as he swayed back and forth before collapsing in a heap.