The Ascension of Karrak (Karrak Trilogy Part One)

by Robert J Marsters

  “Enough for now I think, time to eat. Who wanted the roast duck?” asked Lodren.

  ***

  Darooq backed into the shadows. Many wizards were moving about the village but it would have been foolish to think that he could blend in with them, and he was no fool. Biding his time, he moved from one building to the next, pausing often as yet another figure passed, just yards in front or behind him. Each time he would watch them closely, hoping for a tell-tale sign. Walking perfectly upright or too quickly would suggest youth, and this was something for which he had no use. He was looking for someone not so spritely or maybe with a stoop, something that would betray advanced age, a senior wizard, one that would have information or knowledge that may be useful. To kidnap a youth would no doubt prove fruitless. Then he heard a voice, a voice he recognised from his days spent in Reiggan Fortress, Schnepp, one of the seniors. If anyone held secrets, it would be him, but how to catch him off guard?

  Darooq slipped his hand inside his robes and drew from them a dagger. Nothing fancy, bone handled with a plain blade, but razor sharp. Still with his eyes on Schnepp, he crept closer, still secreted in the shadows. He was now only ten feet away and with a final check to make sure the old man was still alone, he raised the dagger and plunged it into his own shoulder. The searing pain shot through him but he held his hand over his mouth until the initial shock passed, before lurching forward.

  “Master Schnepp, Master, please, help me,” he whispered, holding out his uninjured arm and dropping to his knees as the old man turned around.

  “What has happened to you, my dear man?” asked Schnepp, shuffling forward to aid him.

  “In the shadows… a man… a knife,” breathed Darooq.

  “Here, let me help you,” offered Schnepp and leaning down, took Darooq by the arm.

  Darooq placed his hand against the side of the old man’s face. There was a flash, like a tiny lightning bolt that travelled from Darooq’s hand to Schnepp’s temple, causing the old man to collapse in a crumpled heap beside his attacker. A moment later Darooq once again placed his hand against the old man’s face. The pain in his shoulder was distracting and he barely managed to focus before, uttering a few quiet words, the air around them shimmered and they both vanished.

  ***

  The companions milled about the camp, packing away the last few bits and pieces that were left, Lodren paying special attention to his pots and pans as usual, Hannock checking his one-man armoury, Faylore re-stringing her bow and Grubb attending to his beloved Buster and the rest of the horses.

  Lawton and Poom paced back and forth, anxious to begin the journey to Cheadleford. As it was usually just the two of them, they were unused to having to wait around, and it showed.

  “Are you ready yet?” asked Poom with a sigh.

  “Just a few more minutes, Mr Poom,” called Lodren.

  “You’ll get used to it. It’s like waking at dawn, realising there is nothing to do and then sitting on a rock, waiting for dusk,” grumbled Grubb.

  “Why do they take so long to get ready?” asked Lawton. “We could have been half way there by now.”

  “Like I said, you’ll get used to it. I did.”

  The band of wizards, having no carts to pack or other such burdens to bear, was ready to depart and Emnor approached Jared, smiling cheerfully. “Well, we’re off. Just one thing before we do, I have a gift for you, here you are.”

  Emnor held out a small, linen-wrapped object and Jared took it, thanking him graciously. Carefully unwrapping it, he gave a slight gasp. “My dear Emnor, it’s magnificent. What have I done to warrant such a gift?” Without his knowledge, Jared was holding the Heart of Ziniphar.

  “My apprentice and his colleagues here made it for you, it’s a simple talisman. Supposed to glow to warn you of danger, so they say anyway,” said Emnor, pointing toward Harley and the other young wizards.

  “But it must be worth a fortune looking at the size of this ruby, Emnor.”

  “We are wizards, Jared. We don’t care about monetary value. Don’t make a fuss, you’ll only embarrass them, put it on, and keep it on,” instructed Emnor.

  ***

  Emnor, Harley, Xarran, Alex and Drake made their way toward the cave in order to make a final check on its desertion. Finding it still empty, they continued around the base of the ridge and were soon unable to see the companion’s camp.

  “Master Emnor, why did you give the Heart to Prince Jared?” asked Harley.

  “Trust me, my boy, he will have far greater need of it than any of us ever would,” answered Emnor.

  “Surely he will not have to face the dangers that we shall, Master, after all, we are going ahead to clear the path for him and the others,” continued Harley.

  The others were listening and Drake, as usual, saw his chance to join in. “We are wizards, we don’t need talismans to protect us. We have our own magical powers remember, Harley?”

  “Quite right, Maddleton,” said Emnor, “but we shan’t be facing Karrak, Prince Jared will.”

  “How can you be sure of that, Master Emnor?” asked Xarran.

  “I just am. We’ll leave it at that shall we?”

  They knew that this was the end of the discussion. Pressing the Head of the Administration was not something any of them dared to attempt, however amiable a person he was. “This is far enough I think, now, everybody, concentrate, that means you, Maddleton.”

  ***

  Moments later with a gust of wind that swayed the trees, they appeared on the outskirts of Cheadleford village. Emnor held up his staff and the boys brandished their wands in outstretched hands. It was only just after dawn and, when they had left the companions it was a bright morning with a slight breeze, but here the air was still and there was an unnatural gloom that only seemed to be over the village itself. There was an ominous silence. The village was skirted on three sides by dense forest yet not so much as a solitary bird song could be heard.

  “Be on your guard, gentlemen. Follow me,” said Emnor, as he took his first few, tentative steps.

  The first building they came to gave an indication that what they were about to encounter would not be pleasant, charred across half the width of the facia with blood splashes across the other half, it set the pulses of the younger wizards racing. It was all well and good to be bold and brave when miles away from harm, but now, that safe distance was gone, and the reality of the dangers were now being realised by these young inexperienced wizards.

  Surprisingly, or not, the only one that seemed unaffected was Drake. Whether he was brave or simply too stupid to realise the potential danger could have been debated at a later date, but for now, it was just what Emnor needed to inspire courage in the others.

  “I’ll go this way, Master, you go that. We’ll go around the edges first and then start checking inside the remaining buildings…” Drake realised what he had just said and scrunched up his face, not through fear but in realisation that he had, in a way, almost made it sound like an order to the Head of the Administration. “… If you think that’s a good idea Master Emnor,” he added, not daring to turn and face him.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea, Maddleton. Harley, go with him, you two, with me.”

  They met on the other side of the village a few minutes later but neither had anything to report. They checked the buildings one by one, Emnor deciding that this would be best done as a collective. Only one building remained and they approached it warily. It was the inn.

  “The Hangman’s Noose, that’s nice, nothing scary about that is there?” Xarran’s question was of course a sarcastic, rhetorical one as he looked around at the others.

  “Nothing at all…” replied Alex, not taking his eyes off the door whilst pointing his wand in his quivering hand, “… after you, Xarran.”

  They entered the inn with as much stealth as possible, listening intently, which was difficult with their hearts beating so loudly in their chests. Ordinarily, Emnor would not have been so cautious, but his con
cern for the safety of his young charges was in the forefront of his mind.

  The bar room was empty, and a thick layer of dust on the bar itself suggested that it had been abandoned for some time. Broken furniture was strewn about and what seemed to be more bloodstains, adorned the floor and in some places, the walls.

  “Shall I check the cellar, Master?” whispered Drake, much relieved when Emnor replied.

  “No, you stay here, I’ll go.”

  He ventured down the dark, narrow, creaking staircase and now, at the foot, found himself in darkness. Suddenly a gentle light appeared before him, a floating, glowing orb that hovered a few feet in front of him as he made his way across the cellar floor. As he took a step, the orb moved ahead of him like a lantern. There were beer kegs stacked against the far wall and a table had been placed at the side of the room, now with a broken chair leaning against it. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the cellar apart from a large pile of grey rags in the one corner. Emnor prodded at them with the end of his staff. The pile seemed to roll forward and to his horror they unravelled completely. The arms fell to the side and the head hit the floor with a thud as a corpse spilled out onto the floor, eyes still wide open and the throat even wider. Emnor recoiled and tripped on the broken chair. Unable to stop himself he fell backwards and crashed through the rickety table. There was a commotion on the stairs as all four of his students came charging down to his aid, unnecessarily, but they were not to know that. The boys stared, aghast at Emnor’s discovery. “Did you know him, Master?” asked Harley.

  “Well he has been dead for some time, and the body has begun to decay, but he does seem familiar, maybe…”

  “Well whether you do or you don’t, Sir, I think we should at least build a pyre and take care of the corpse,” suggested Xarran.

  “No, we can’t. It would alert anyone nearby of our presence. We’ll have to bury him,” said Emnor.

  “Bury him? But that’s barbaric, Master, I mean, put him in the ground?”

  “Whoever he was, I’m sure he’d understand. It’s all for the greater good, Xarran.”

  On Emnor’s instruction, the boys began to dig a shallow grave just outside the village. Drake complained about having to do manual labour.

  “If you know of a spell that will allow us to complete the task a little quicker I’m sure we’d all be happy for you to share it with us,” suggested Alexander.

  “Well I’m sure I could do something,” answered Drake.

  “I meant without blowing up the remnants of the village,” said Alexander.

  “Ah, see what you mean, it probably would be a bit on the loud side,” admitted Drake.

  “Good grief, you were going to blast a hole in the ground. That was your idea, wasn’t it?” asked Alexander.

  “Might have been,” answered Drake pouting slightly.

  “Emnor suggests not lighting a fire so that we remain undetected but ‘blow ‘em up Bill’ here wants to announce our presence on a much grander scale. You’re unbelievable, Drake,” said Xarran.

  Emnor had the far more gruesome task of preparing the body for internment and had sent his young charges away before he commenced with his macabre duty. He had seen many corpses in his time, but they were recently deceased and embalmed, not in the early stages of decomposition. He decided to wrap the body as tightly as possible in the robes that, had at first, appeared to be just a pile of rags, whilst showing the deceased the utmost respect. Laying it flat on the floor, he straightened out the legs and pulled gently at the robes, then drew the cowl over its head and finally folded his left arm across the chest. It was only when he began to gingerly bring the right arm across that a glint of light caught the ring on the index finger. Merely interested, he leaned closer, hoping that, if he recognised it, he may gain insight into the man’s identity. The light was poor in the cellar and although the glowing orb remained, its fault was that if one approached it, it would move away.

  “Forgive me, my dear man, I shall return it in just a few moments,” Emnor said quietly as he carefully removed the ring from the dead man’s hand.

  As Emnor passed through the doorway of the inn he blinked in the daylight, it was gloomy admittedly, but still much brighter than the dank cellar. Harley and his friends had completed their own unpleasant task and, as Emnor had commanded, were waiting just outside.

  “Is everything alright, Master. Can we be of any help?” asked Harley.

  “Our friend downstairs was wearing a ring. It appears vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Take a look, boys, see if any of you recognise it would you,” said Emnor. This was obviously an instruction, not a request.

  One by one, they inspected the ring until eventually, only Xarran remained. Taking it from Drake, he let out a gasp. “This belonged to Master Derrin. The man downstairs is Master Derrin,” blurted Xarran.

  “Are you sure, I mean completely sure, Xarran?” asked Emnor.

  “Yes. I commented on it once and he showed it to me more closely. It’s a kind of family crest and has been passed down through generations of his family for hundreds of years.”

  Emnor stroked at his beard nervously and began pacing back and forth, muttering to himself.

  “What’s wrong, Master?” asked Harley.

  “Harley, I need you to go back for the others. I know we don’t usually hold with such things, but you must use your powers of relocation to bring them here one by one. Start with the slowest first, probably the nice one, Lodren and then, more importantly, Prince Jared. Don’t bother with the Gerrowliens they can make it here in a couple of hours by themselves. Go, now,” replied Emnor.

  ***

  Harley appeared in a cloud of black smoke. Usually his technique was far more refined and he was a little embarrassed at how amateur his appearance must have seemed to the startled travellers. Crossing the short distance to Lodren, he grabbed him by the wrist.

  “Master Emnor needs to see you all, now,” he said, and in another cloud of black smoke, vanished.

  The remaining members exchanged looks of amazement.

  “The old fella must be mighty hungry to need Lodren that badly,” said Grubb.

  “Somehow I don’t think he’s hungry,” said Hannock, reaching for the crossbow.

  “I don’t think you’ll need that, Charles. He’d hardly take Lodren first if they were in the middle of a battle,” said Faylore.

  “Agreed, he’d have grabbed a warrior, me,” said Poom without hesitation.

  “Quite right, Poom…” said Lawton “…send the old ones in to die first so the younger ones survive,” said Lawton.

  “What do you mean, the old ones? I’ll have you know…” But his protest was cut short as Harley reappeared.

  “Lawton, Poom, Master Emnor asks that you head for the village as fast as you can, we’ll wait for you there…” he said, “… Prince Jared, you next please.”

  “What the hell is going on, what’s this all about?” asked Hannock, becoming a little agitated.

  “Apologies, Captain, orders are orders, no time to explain,” and now grabbing Jared by the wrist, Harley disappeared once more.

  ***

  Schnepp opened his eyes. He was bound to a chair in a dark room but was most surprised to find that he was completely alone. A few feet in front of him was a large desk and on the desk an ominous looking wooden box. He stared at it for a few moments until realisation dawned on his face, he had seen it’s like before. He pulled at his bindings to no avail, he was a frail old man despite his magical prowess and they remained secure. Closing his eyes in order to concentrate, he began to mutter, hoping to secure his freedom with magic, but this too, proved useless. A faint scratching could be heard from inside the box as Schnepp’s fears were now confirmed. What sort of person would have such a thing in their possession? It was not long before he had his answer. It seemed as if he had been tied to the chair for hours as he awaited his fate. The pain in his back grew increasingly worse, his brittle bones strapped tightly to the u
npadded wood. Then he heard the footsteps heading slowly toward the room. The door opened silently and he saw the silhouette of the huge man standing in the doorway.

  “Karrak Dunbar if I’m not mistaken,” he said quietly.

  “I was, in a previous life, before everything was stolen from me,” replied Karrak.

  “Nothing was stolen from you, Karrak. Your own petty jealousy robbed you of everything that you regarded as your own, that and your insanity,” said Schnepp.

  “You would do well not to aggravate me, old man,” roared Karrak.

  “Why, what else can you do to me, tie me to a chair? Torture me? Just get on with it. I don’t wish to spend my last moments of life listening to the ravings of a lunatic.”

  “Torture you? Oh no, I have a much better idea than mere torture.”

  “You mean the Globbiran spider you have in that box? Is that it? Is that all you have, a spider? Do you have any idea how old I am? The minute that thing latches onto the side of my head I’ll probably have a heart attack and if not, I’m sure I won’t survive three or four days while it chews away at my brain. I don’t have many years left in me anyway, so as I said, get on with it, you’ll get nothing from me.”

  “I could just possess your body, then I’ll have all the answers I need,” suggested Karrak.

  “You have hexes and runes all around this room to prevent the use of magic. You’d have to take me out and then I could use my own magic before you could possess me.”

  “Not if I were to render you unconscious, old man.”

  Schnepp began to laugh, “You really are pathetic, Karrak. If it were that simple you would have done it by now and this tedious conversation would not be taking place, which would be a blessing, you’re fishing, BOY. These waters are empty, Karrak, the fish aren’t biting today, so kill me or let me go. Either one will be a release from your prattling.”

  Karrak wanted to rip the old wizard apart and it took every fibre of his being to contain his rage. Turning his back on him, he took a deep breath. “Very well, I’m a reasonable man, Master Schnepp. What do you want? What can I offer you in return for one location? That’s all I want, one simple location.”