With the king’s permission, Hannock opened the door, allowing Emnor to enter. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, I came as soon as I heard the news.”
“I’ve only just heard myself, Emnor, how did you get here so quickly?”
“That is of no importance, Tamor, finding Karrak however, is.”
“He’ll just find a tavern somewhere, get drunk and probably beat up some poor barkeep. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?” asked Tamor.
“Sire, he has departed Reiggan with Barden, the Head of the Administration as his accomplice. He could show up here at any moment, seeking revenge.”
“Revenge? For what?” asked Tamor, “For wanting him to be well?”
“He does not see it so. He feels that he was imprisoned as a punishment for his actions within your kingdom. He will return, Tamor, and when he does, he’ll be looking to vent his frustrations on all who had a hand in his incarceration.”
***
“Lord Karrak, enough, please.” Barden begged as he lay on the ground panting.
“But I must practise, Barden. On your feet, once more.”
“I cannot, my Lord. Your fire spells are the most powerful I have ever known; I cannot defend against another one.”
“Hopeless. It just begins to feel right and now you need to rest. If only you were younger.”
“If I were younger I would not have been able to help with your understanding of the immense power at your command, my Lord,” said Barden, lowering his head so as not to appear impertinent.
“Don’t grovel, Barden. You’ll want me to feel sorry for you next, and we both know that won’t happen. After all, you made me what I am, remember?”
“Yes, my Lord. But you already have more power than I could ever aspire to command.”
“Really? Not surprising. After all, you are a puny little sprat aren’t you?”
Barden resented the comment, but, remaining subservient, simply replied, “Yes, my Lord.”
“It’s about time I paid a visit to my family, don’t you think?” asked Karrak.
“It may not be wise, my Lord, they may be expecting you.”
“What! Surely my father and brother will welcome me with open arms?”
“They imprisoned you for the death of a mere guard, without evidence, my Lord. What would they do given the events that took place in Reiggan? They may seek to hang you,” replied Barden.
“Then best not to give them that chance… I’ll kill them both.”
A sinister smile appeared on Barden’s face. “And the kingdom will be yours, my Lord.”
“Yes, it will. But I am not naïve enough to think I could sack a castle by myself. I shall need help.”
“There is one, that would come to your aid, my Lord.”
“Why would I trust you, Barden? After all you failed me last time.”
“I apologise once more, my Lord. There is another that would be a willing ally, and he has warriors at his command.”
“And who is this leader of warriors?”
“His name is Ramah, my Lord. A Dergon Chief.”
“And just what is a Dergon?”
Barden explained, at length and with much detail, the heritage of the Dergon. From their fighting for the highest bidder in many wars, right up to their last battle, with King Tamor.
“So he has no love for my father, or Borell? He could prove useful.”
“I am led to believe that he still leads a band of at least a hundred, my Lord.”
“Where do I find this Ramah?” asked Karrak.
“He has made camp in the hills not far from here, two days’ ride at most.”
“I won’t be riding though will I?”
“I suggest, my Lord, that we make our approach obvious. They are beasts and we do not wish to appear hostile if we mean to recruit them as our allies.”
“I notice you’re using the word ‘we’ a lot, Barden. Don’t start getting ideas above your station will you? After all, I am the one to whom your sacred scroll refers am I not?”
“You are indeed, my Lord, forgive me. I wish only to serve,” replied Barden, bowing to his master.
***
The companions sat around the campfire in the castle grounds. Jared had requested their presence, and all were eager to know the reason for the gathering.
“It’s about my brother,” began Jared.
“The mad one?” asked Faylore.
“Yes… no” how should he answer? Karrak was showing signs of madness but he could not bring himself to say it aloud, at least, not in front of others.
Hannock intervened, “He’s not mad, Faylore,” he said calmly.
Jared was glad that his friend had spoken as he was unsure of what to say next.
Hannock continued, “He’s insane.”
“Hannock!” exclaimed Jared.
“These are our friends, Jared. We must tell them the truth, however much it hurts to say it.”
Jared, of course, knew that Hannock was right and held up his hands in submission, “Carry on, Hannock,” he said, “you tell them.”
“He was always a spoiled brat, but as he got older his temper got worse. He’s a mountain of a man and enjoyed bullying people, until one night he went too far and killed a guard in a fit of rage. That’s why we were taking him to Reiggan, when we met you three. Now, apparently, not only has he escaped, Barden aided his escape, and one of the young wizards was killed in the process.”
“Didn’t like that Barden. Soon as I clapped eyes on him, I knew he was a wrong ‘un,” said Grubb, being as outspoken as ever.
“Such a shame. He seemed so nice,” said Lodren.
“My dear Lodren,” said Hannock, “to you, an axe wielding maniac would seem nice.”
“Thank you, Mr Captain, kind of you to say so.”
Hannock had a look of disbelief on his face, but said nothing.
“Does anyone have any idea where they could have gone? If they do, I could have my people search the area,” Faylore offered.
“Not a clue,” said Hannock.
“Well, I’ll have them report any strange events that may prove useful,” she added.
“Urge them not to approach him, Faylore. By the sound of things his magic is very powerful. Your kin should not be placed in a perilous situation, I won’t accept that,” said Jared.
“Neither will I, Jared, but you know of our ability to blend. It worked against one wizard, it should work against another.”
“I’m not so sure, it seems the young wizard we faced was a novice. It may not work against one more experienced. Better not take the risk, Faylore.”
“Why don’t we go and have a look for them, Mr Jared. We might have a bit of luck, and he’s not going to attack his own brother is he?” asked Lodren.
“That’s where you’re wrong my dear Nibby,” said Hannock. “He already tried to kill him once, and now he has grown stronger, he’s more dangerous than ever.”
Faylore placed her hand on Jared’s. “Your brother tried to kill you?” she asked.
“Yes, and if he’d known more about his prowess with magic sooner, he would have succeeded. That’s the only thing that saved me, that and having a pikestaff rapped round the back of his skull.”
Hannock held up his hand. “Guilty.”
***
Karrak approached the Dergon camp, his steps were light, but stealth was not his objective. He was almost at the campfire before one of the Dergon let out a howl. A dozen or so of his fellow warriors rushed forward, their intent, to slaughter the intruder. Karrak threw up his arm and there were shrieks of shock as they all flew into the air untouched, then landing heavily on the ground, all bar one, who landed in the centre of the campfire itself. Karrak turned to the side and held out his arm. The camp fell silent, bar the yelps of the Dergon who was attempting to douse the flames that had engulfed his legs.
“Bring me the one you call Ramah,” Karrak said calmly. The Dergon, unsure how to react to the stranger’s order, stood look
ing at one another. “Are you all deaf?” bellowed Karrak, “Bring me the one you call Ramah, NOW.”
“You are either very brave, or very stupid,” said Ramah sidling from between his warriors, “which is it?”
“Well I’m not stupid, and looking at this lot, there’s nothing to be afraid of either.”
“What do you want, magician?” asked Ramah, “There’s nothing for you here.”
“On the contrary, I think I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.”
“Which is?” asked Ramah.
“Brave warriors, my dear Ramah, with a braver leader of course.”
“Forget your flattery stranger, it does not work on me. We are proud warriors but have renounced our mercenary ways. You cannot employ us to fight your battles.”
“Such big words, but you misunderstand me, I’m not here to employ you, I’m here to help you.”
“Do we look helpless to you? We need no help stranger, now leave,” said Ramah calmly.
“You mean you don’t want revenge on Tamor Dunbar, or Borell? I heard that your last encounter with them was slightly embarrassing, to say the least. Got your backside well and truly kicked, by all accounts.”
“He slaughtered four hundred of my warriors.” Ramah was becoming slightly annoyed, which was exactly what Karrak needed.
“That’s what I heard, and I’m here to offer my help. Don’t tell me you don’t want to do the same to him.”
“I want to kill every last Borellian I find and rip their king’s head off with my bare hands.”
“But of course you do, what true leader wouldn’t? Be honest, it’s just a dream. With the aid of my sorcery, Ramah, it could become a reality.”
Ramah lowered his head, eyeing Karrak carefully. “Just how powerful do you believe your sorcery to be?” he asked.
“Ask these,” Karrak replied, pointing at the Dergon he had sent soaring into the air.
“With one hand, Ramah, just one hand, and no real effort.”
Ramah gestured for Karrak to sit by what remained of the campfire, most of it having been extinguished by the falling Dergon warrior. “Why do you wish to help us, sorcerer?”
“I am Karrak Dunbar, second son of Tamor. My father, the old goat, had me gaoled simply because I tried to kill my brother.”
The reaction from Ramah was again, as Karrak expected. He began to laugh, a deep laugh, echoed around the camp by his army. “Ambition, I like that. Simply tried to kill your brother,” Ramah’s expression changed, “but what if we defeat your father? What then? You turn on us once he has been usurped and slaughter us as your enemies. Do you think me so foolish?”
“If I thought you were a fool, Ramah, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, you’d all be dead now.”
Karrak said this in a very matter of fact way, and Ramah believed him. “If your sorcery is so powerful… Karrak? Why do you need us?”
“If I were to approach the castle they would simply bar the gates. They are too cowardly to face me. If you were to lure them out, I could destroy them all, leaving you and your army to spill through the gates and exact your revenge.”
“Why would you do this for us? What do you get, Karrak?”
“I get my home back. With the king and my brother dead, the castle would be mine.”
“And where do we go once you have your fine castle, back to these hills?” asked Ramah.
“You can stay in Borell, come back to the hills or have another castle built wherever you want, Ramah. My gratitude shall afford you whatever remuneration you see fit.”
Ramah was still dubious. His thirst for revenge was great, but as he conspired with Karrak, the doubt in his mind was soon erased with Karrak’s skilful manipulation. It was agreed between the two that soon, Karrak would revisit the campsite in order to make their final preparations for the attack on Borell, allowing Ramah the time to make ready, what remained of his glorious, Dergon horde.
***
Karrak, having returned to his cave, now stood at the entrance. He pondered over recent events, his unexpected incarceration; the aid of Barden in his escape; his experiments with the manipulation of the form or mind of a random individual; but most of all, the revenge he sought on all that had, in his mind, betrayed him.
Barden, his usual fawning self, hurried over to greet his new master. “I trust all went well, my Lord?” he asked tentatively.
“As well as it could when one is dealing with animals,” sneered Karrak.
“Ramah has agreed to an alliance then, my Lord?” asked Barden.
“He believes he has. That’s all I need.”
“I do not understand, I thought we wanted the Dergon as our allies, my Lord.”
“Now that’s the problem, Barden, you think too much. You may have been a bigwig with the Administration, but you’re nothing now, a nobody.”
Barden lowered his head. “No, my Lord, forgive me my Lord.”
“That’s the other thing, Barden, you’re always apologising. If you kept your mouth shut and just did as I ask, you wouldn’t have to, would you?” Barden shook his head, not wanting to antagonise Karrak. “I’ve been thinking Barden, and I have a question for you.”
Barden looked up at Karrak. Questions directed at him were usually a forerunner to some sort of abuse by Karrak, mental or physical, depending on his master’s mood.
“Why do I suffer you so, Barden? I mean, you’ve shown me all you can regarding sorcery, so you’re no use for that any more. You use the term ‘we’, when it’s quite obvious that you don’t have a useful idea in that grey, matted head of yours.”
“My Lord, I shall try harder to please you, any command you give…”
“I hadn’t finished! See? You interrupted me, again. Now where was I? Oh yes, I almost forgot…” and with this Karrak sneered and lowered his voice, “You… Murdered... My... Mother.”
Panic had set in and Barden began to babble. “My Lord, please, I did it for you, so that you would become…”
These were the last words that Barden would ever speak. Karrak held out his hand. Barden fell to the floor, screaming in agony, as his body began to warp and twist with his torturer’s manipulation, his face contorting and his bones cracking.
“Did you think I’d forgotten? Did you think that I would ever trust you? Don’t worry, old man, I’m not going to kill you, just neuter you a little. You need to be kept on a very, tight leash.”
Barden’s screams grew louder as Karrak’s metamorphosing intensified, for the more Barden screamed, the more the sadistic nature of Karrak’s soul demanded. Barden was now unrecognisable. No more was he a wizened old man, he was some sort of beast, unlike anything seen before. He had a muzzle, a mouth full of canine teeth and four legs similar to a wolf. The screaming ceased, and now, cowering with fear at his feet, was Karrak’s new pet. “Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?” asked Karrak.
He had twisted Barden’s body with less effort than an artist moulding a lump of clay. The cruellest torture for Barden however, was that his consciousness had been left intact, allowing him to realise the true horror of his predicament. Any who saw him would shy away from his hideous form and without the power of speech, he could not beg for help or mercy.
Not done with Barden’s humiliation, Karrak approached the beast and reaching inside his cloak, removed a collar. “I have a gift for you,” he said, fastening it around Barden’s neck and roaring with laughter, a maniacal laugh, proof to anyone that would have witnessed his actions, that Karrak was now completely insane. He looked down at his pet, “Now don’t go running off, Barden. I’ll find you and bring you back and then you’ll have to be punished, and remember this… pets, sleep outside.” He kicked Barden as hard as he could, flinging him into the air. The beast yelped and scampered out of the cave. “Don’t worry,” Karrak shouted after it, “you’ll have some new friends to play with soon.”
***
Emnor, after his fleeting visit to Borell Castle, had returned to Reiggan Fortress and was now
frantically searching what had been Barden’s chambers. Tomes and scrolls were laid out on the desk in an order that only Emnor understood, and he moved from one to another, searching their content. A young wizard stood a few feet away watching with puzzled interest.
“What exactly are you looking for, Master Emnor?”
“Any clue as to where Barden may have taken, Karrak,” Emnor replied.
“Forgive me, Master Emnor, but there are scores of us. Surely Master Barden, as powerful as he is, and Prince Karrak, pose no threat to Reiggan?”
“I have known Barden since before you were born, Harley. He is a danger with which you would not want to contend, my young friend. He has turned to black magic, the proof is in these scriptures. He believes that Karrak is some sort of saviour who will rid the earth of menial lifeforms, such as you or I, as if we were a plague.”
“But that is insanity! He would aid him in an attempted genocide? Master Barden!”
“Oh yes. He believes that Karrak is destined to rule the world.”
***
Emnor, despite his polite objections, had been named as Barden’s successor as Head of the Administration. He was the most experienced member, not to mention the oldest and wisest. Put to a vote, the decision by his colleagues, was unanimous. “Very well,” said Emnor, “if that is your wish, I accept the post, temporarily. Once this business with Barden is concluded, however, we shall reconvene to discuss a more permanent solution to Reiggan’s leadership.” He felt honoured that his colleagues held him in such high esteem, but at the same time, did not want to be restricted by his new post. To him, his freedom to come and go as he pleased, was paramount.
Time passed with no word of Barden or Karrak reaching Emnor’s ears until, eventually, there were whispers of strange beasts and disappearances in the south. Emnor felt he must investigate. Administration members protested, saying that he should send one of them, but his reply was that he would not ask anyone to do something he was not willing to do himself. “After all,” he had said, “they are only rumours.”
The Ascension of Karrak (Karrak Trilogy Part One) Page 19