Karrak slumped down on a chair in front of a large desk on which he began to drum his fingers. He thought for a few moments and looked up at Darooq. “So what do you suggest, pat him on the head and say never mind?”
“It’s a little late for that, my Lord. But he has been punished. Show leniency in front of the others this time and they will trust in you, but if you insist on killing this man, you risk losing them all.”
“And you, Darooq, would you also abandon me?” asked Karrak.
Darooq was no fool. He was a powerful wizard in his own right. He was neither scared nor intimidated by Karrak, but his loyalty toward him was not completely altruistic. He wanted the wealth and power of which Karrak had spoken, and knew that it would only be a matter of time before this egomaniac would bring about his own destruction. Once he was out of the way, Darooq would take the opportunity to seize all that Karrak had so diligently obtained. “No, my Lord. I for one, shall not abandon you, whatever your decision.”
This course of events had been the result of a momentary lapse of concentration. The wizard charged with overseeing the incarceration of Derrin, believing his prisoner to be a mindless body, had left him unwatched for just a few minutes. Derrin however, had retained just enough of his faculties to take a knife that had been left nearby, to cut his own throat, thus depriving Karrak the pleasure of questioning him, and recovering the vital information he craved, the location of the Elixian Soul.
***
Xarran, Alexander and Drake entered Emnor’s office slightly sheepishly, followed by a relaxed Harley. He himself was used to being summoned at strange hours of the day, understanding that, no matter what his personal goals were, Emnor’s requirements would always take precedence. Closing the door gently, they faced the Head of the Administration who was sitting at his desk, fingers interlocked as if waiting for any one of them to speak. An uncomfortable silence ensued until Harley, as usual, took the initiative. “You asked to see us, Master Emnor.”
“Indeed I did, Harley, indeed I did. Tell me, how would you all feel about getting out of here for a while, stretch your legs, as it were?” The four friends exchanged glances, unsure as to what their reply should be. “Don’t worry, it’s not a trick question,” said Emnor, his face breaking into the mischievous grin with which Harley had become very familiar.
“Is there a problem, Sir. Have we done something wrong?” asked Harley.
“Oh no, not at all, quite the contrary, dear boy. You’ve shaken up a lot of wizard’s beliefs that we should, under no circumstances, use wands. Furthermore, many believe that I was coerced into using my new staff.”
“What’s that got to do with us… going out?” asked Drake.
“That’s Master Emnor to you,” mumbled Harley.
“I mean, Master Emnor… Sir,” added Drake.
“Well you see I have a friend who may need a little help in the not too distant future and I believe that we, and I do mean we, could be the ones to offer it,” said Emnor.
“What kind of help, Master Emnor?” asked Xarran.
“Well, not to put too fine a point on it, magical assistance in a major battle. However, although it seems imminent to me, it may not, to him. But mark my words, your very lives will be in danger should you choose to embark on this adventure.”
“Well you can count me in then, do I have to sign anything?”
“Young Master Drake, maybe a little more thought should be given before volunteering,” said Emnor.
“Master Emnor, have you met my father? He’s an adventurer you see, always off discovering things, fighting monsters and the like. He seemed to think that me being a wizard was a bit, you know, girly. Now, if I could combine adventure, as you put it, with magic, that would really put his nose out of joint, so as I said, count me in.”
“And if you’re killed during said adventure?” asked Emnor.
“He’ll be as proud as punch, because I’ll have died a hero!” answered Drake with a big smile on his face. It seemed that the ‘mad’ part of his name really suited him.
The only one that seemed hesitant toward Emnor’s proposal was Alexander. He was an only child and, as his father had died when he was very young, voiced his concern that if anything were to happen to him, his mother would struggle to support herself financially. Assurances were made, not only by his friends, but by Emnor himself, that if anything were to happen to him, his mother would be provided for, for the rest of her days and would want for nothing. “Count me in,” he said.
“I’m up for it!” added Xarran, resolutely.
It may have seemed foolish to the untrained eye, to take four very young wizards, the eldest being Harley at the age of twenty-two, into such a dangerous situation. There were many, far senior in years, who thought themselves to be one of the most powerful in the land, but Emnor knew different. These young men were more powerful than they themselves realised and their naïve, humble, if somewhat childish natures, although ‘childish’ only applied to Drake, would ensure their survival in the most perilous of situations.
Their meeting lasted for many hours as Emnor explained fully, what they were about to face. Once they were dismissed, each member of this secretive band departed Emnor’s chambers, under no illusion that this was to be a simple field trip. They continued to meet over the next few days. Plans were made and strategies discussed until each member was positive of his role in their mission, the mission of saving Borell.
So it was, a week later, that in the cold light of dawn, five wizards, cloaked and with cowls pulled over their heads, departed Reiggan Fortress, their mission known only to them.
***
The mouth of the cave was as black as pitch. The companions stared hard, waiting for the slightest of movements from within. The night was still with not a breath of wind, and not so much as a blade of grass twitched.
“I’m telling you…” said Poom, lying flat on his back with his arms folded across his chest, “there’s nobody in there.”
“That’s what he wants you to think,” said Hannock pulling his bulky bundle closer to him as he lay prone, still watching the cave.
“I think he may be right, Hannock. We’ve been here for over an hour and we’ve neither seen nor heard anything,” said Jared.
“I know you want him to be in there, Mr Captain, so you can bash him up a bit, but that doesn’t mean he is in there,” said Lodren.
“Thanks for that, Smiler, now shut your face,” said Hannock, becoming a little tetchy.
“Do ye want me to go and have a look, you know, if you’re afraid to go yourself?” said Grubb, who knew how to rile Hannock easily.
“You keep out of it, half pint, I’ve got enough with Corporal Cheerful here without you joining in.”
“Ooh, I’m a corporal,” said Lodren.
“Now see what you’ve started.”
Faylore could bear it no longer. “The cave is obviously empty. What we need to know is, how long it has been empty, and how long it will remain so.”
“I totally agree, Madam. Poom, off you go,” said Lawton. In the blink of an eye, Poom was gone. The others watched closely as Poom, travelling so quickly that he barely cast a shadow, disappeared into the cave. Within a second, there were roars and crashing coming from within that caused the rest of them to charge at varying speeds toward the cave. Lodren held his hammer, Jared his sword, Faylore her bow and Grubb had transformed into the four-armed beast, but all were left behind by Lawton, who sprinted ahead. Reaching the cave, they ventured into the pitch blackness, and silence. Suddenly a flame erupted at the far end of the cave and there stood Poom, by himself, perfectly fine. He looked at them in turn for a moment, and then burst into fits of growling laughter. “You should have seen your faces,” he said amongst his guffaws, tears dripping off his furry face, “That was brilliant… priceless.”
The others however, did not see the funny side. Not even Lawton cracked a smile. “That was in very bad taste, Poom, very bad taste indeed,” he said.
&n
bsp; “Oh come on. There’s no harm in breaking the tension with a bit of fun is there?” said Poom.
“You think it funny do you? Tell me… just how fast are you… pussy cat?” Hannock’s voice was slow and menacing and the others turned to face him, as, unusually, he was behind them, “…Think you can outrun this?” He was pointing a crossbow directly at Poom, but not a standard crossbow. It was the golden crossbow, the crossbow that had put an end to Jared’s bewitched mother.
“Put it down, Hannock, there’s no need for that. It was just a sick joke, my friend, he doesn’t understand,” said Jared.
“Maybe he’ll understand once a bolt pierces that thick, mangy skull of his,” said Hannock.
Poom was unused to being threatened, and was deeply offended at being referred to as a pussy cat. He began to growl quietly, his eyes darting from side to side, assessing his chances of dodging the bolt, but uncomfortable as he was with the situation, he was not afraid. He had survived many battles in many wars and had witnessed rage in the eyes of many beings. This time was no different. In previous encounters, admittedly, there had been nobody attempting to mediate, so he chose to stand his ground and remained silent.
“I always believed you had a far better sense of humour than that, Captain Hannock. I remember how you and Prince Jared were always larking about as children, making fun of us barmpots.”
The familiar voice came from behind Hannock. Emnor had returned, accompanied by his four faithful followers. The comment seemed to spark a memory in Hannock’s mind. He knew Emnor’s voice, but still enraged, he did not turn to face him.
“Things change…” he said, “… people change.”
“Have you changed so much, Hannock? So much that you would shoot an unarmed ally?” asked Emnor.
Looking to the floor, Hannock lowered the crossbow, turned, and exited the cave.
***
The companions and their friends had agreed that it was safe enough to set camp, but at a sensible distance from the cave, making sure that it was still within visual range. The keen eyesight of the Gerrowliens and, of course Faylore, would ensure that any slight movement or flicker of torchlight would not go undetected.
Lodren was overjoyed at the prospect of catering for so many guests and their varying palettes. He pottered around like a mother hen in a bid to provide a sort of, verbal menu, but found himself having to insist as most were too polite to voice a preference toward a particular dish. “Look, it’s no trouble at all, have what you like, how about, why don’t you try…” seemed to be all he said for about twenty minutes.
“Bugger ‘em. Just make a pot of stew or somethin’ and give ‘em some of it. Stop fussin’ over ‘em, they ain’t bothered,” suggested Grubb.
“Now, now, Mr Grubb, I don’t tell you how to change into a bird or that big thing with four arms do I? So I’ll thank you not to interfere with my catering duties.”
“Just tryin’ to help that’s all… catering duties my backside,” added Grubb.
Hannock had wandered a short distance away from the camp and could be seen sitting, with his back against a rock, sharpening his sword, again.
“He has such a fire in him, Jared, it could endanger you all,” said Emnor.
“He’s just, frustrated Emnor. It’s taken us weeks to get here, and we’re no closer to finding Karrak than we were before. With no visible trail to find, how then are we able to follow?” asked Jared.
“My students and I are able to travel much faster than you and your carts, and I have heard whispers,” said Emnor.
“Whispers?”
“Apparently there is a village, Cheadleford, still a fair few days from here.”
“There are villages in all directions, Emnor. Why would this one be any different?”
“There are rumours of strange beasts roaming the area, similar to wolves, but deformed, and bigger. Merchants that traded with the villagers are too afraid to go near the place and nobody who lives there has been seen for weeks. It’s as if it has been wiped from the land, simply disappeared.”
“How do you know, who told you?” asked Jared.
“That is of little importance, Jared. All I know is that it warrants investigation.”
“But, Emnor, you and I both know that there are always rumours of monsters and beasts out here in the wilds. Village folk are prone to exaggeration, they’ve always been the same.”
“That is very true, but I’ve seen these beasts, Jared, so has Faylore, and they belong to Karrak.”
Jared looked at Faylore, who had been listening intently to their conversation. If she had thought it to be private she would have moved away, but nothing remained a secret between them. “It may worse than it seems, my dear Jared,” she said, “if there are indeed beasts in the area you can almost guarantee that they were formerly the villagers and that Karrak has transformed them.”
“But that’s not possible. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t, surely?” Jared began to babble.
“I’m afraid he can, and he would. And probably has, Jared” said Emnor.
***
“I don’t care, I’m not apologising. Stupid one-eyed creep pointed a bloody crossbow at me, just for having a laugh. He should apologise to me. I should just go over there and rip his bloody head off.”
“Poom, what would you do if, in battle, somebody blinded me in one eye?” asked Lawton.
“Easy, rip him apart, stick my spear right up his…”
“Alright, I get the idea. What if afterwards, somebody made a joke about it without knowing the whole story?”
“Same again, rip… OH! You mean?”
“Yes.”
“And the man he’s looking for was the one that…?”
“Yes.”
“Bugger.”
“Yes, Poom, couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“But I never made a joke about his eye, I mean, did I?”
“I know that, and you know that, but… is it starting to dawn on you now?” asked Lawton.
“Maybe I should go and apologise.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, so glad you thought of it, Poom.”
“I’ll be back in a while, Lawton, just going to have a look around, you know, check the perimeter.”
Their conversation had not been heard by the others. Poom now stretched himself, trying to look inconspicuous as he began strolling, seemingly aimlessly, toward Hannock.
Hannock did not hear his approach and started a little as Poom began to speak. “Looks like the sky will stay clear tonight, stroke of luck I suppose.” Hannock glanced at him briefly but gave no response. “So, any idea where he might have gone then, this, sorcerer fellow?” asked Poom.
“Not a clue, but no matter how long it takes, I’ll find him,” muttered Hannock.
“When you kill him, what do you think, quickly, or nice and slow?” Hannock stared at Poom in amazement at the inappropriate question. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry, not my business. Look, I never meant to offend you earlier, it’s just that, well normally it’s just Lawton and me. We’ve been friends for years and he’s used to me, we have the same sense of humour you see, but sometimes I open my big mouth when I should keep it shut and he kind of keeps me in line. I still think I’m a cub some days and he tells me to act my age, I’m nearly two hundred and sixty, you see.”
On hearing the comment, Hannock couldn’t help himself as a huge grin appeared across his face.
“Oh good, you’re feeling better, Captain. You’re smiling. Are you smiling or are you growling? I can’t tell with you people, see, because your faces are… bald.”
Eventually, having settled their differences, Hannock and Poom ventured back into camp. They suspected that they had been the topic of conversation during their absence, but both had agreed to ignore any awkward silence or overzealous attempts to include them in inane conversation.
It was agreed that Emnor and ‘the boys’, as they were referred to, would go on ahead of them to investigate Cheadleford village
as Emnor had suggested. The others would catch up with them as soon as possible, but if there was anything that Emnor deemed of importance he, or one of ‘the boys’ would travel back to inform them immediately.
“Excuse me, Mr Emnor,” said Lodren, “how do you manage to get to and from places so quickly?”
“Relocation spell, Lodren, very easy spell really for us wizards,” answered Emnor.
“Easy for you maybe, I nearly ripped my flamin’ arm out the socket,” muttered Drake.
“I told you to concentrate, Maddleton. Didn’t I tell you to concentrate?”
“Yes, Master Emnor, you told me to concentrate, but you didn’t tell me I shouldn’t hold on to the gate whilst I was doing it, I wasn’t ready, Master Emnor… Sir.”
“Shut up, Drake, stop moaning,” hissed Harley.
“Tell ye what, I’ll go and have a look. You wizards still have to land on the ground but I can just fly over the place,” said Grubb.
“Are you a Vikkery?” asked Xarran.
“How do you know about the Vikkery?” asked Grubb, frowning suspiciously.
“I’m a wizard, I know about lots of things, but I must say I do think the Vikkery are fascinating,” said Xarran.
“Well now that you mention it, we are pretty fantastic,” said Grubb suddenly looking very smug.
“Don’t forget modest and kind-natured, Grubb,” said Hannock smiling, but not daring to look Grubb in the eye.
Poom found this hilarious and, doing his best to stifle his laughter for fear of upsetting anyone else, did one of his now, well-known lightning dashes so as to be out of earshot, returning a few minutes later. The discussion continued.
“If there are any sorcerers there, Grubb, they may cast fire spells and you could be killed. No, we shall go first,” said Emnor.
“Yeah, ‘cause it doesn’t matter if we get blown up, there’s loads of wizards, they can just send some more,” said Drake.
Harley slapped him around the back of the head to shut him up.
“Enough for now I think, time to eat. Who wanted the roast duck?” asked Lodren.
The Ascension of Karrak Page 29