The Bane of Karrak_Ascension II of III

by Robert J Marsters

  “Just a moment if you please, Captain,” said Emnor calmly.

  “Not a problem. It’ll only take a moment to cut their throats,” growled Hannock.

  “I need them alive, Captain, for now at least. Stay your blade, they may have useful information.”

  “I don’t care!” snapped Hannock. “These… things, butchered innocent villagers, even the children. Beheaded them as if it were a noble victory. They’re animals, cowardly animals. The sooner they’re dead, the better.” Hannock was still approaching the Dergon.

  “I’m terribly sorry about this… but…” Yello snapped his fingers again and Hannock stopped dead in his tracks. Walking across to him, he placed his hand on Hannock’s shoulder before reaching forward and removing the sword from his grasp. “I’m sure you won’t hold this against me, Charles.”

  Now that the fireball was extinguished, Jared approached and stood in front of his friend. “Release him, Yello,” he instructed sternly.

  Yello looked toward Emnor who nodded his head.

  Hannock was immediately released. “How dare you,” he roared, “I should…”

  “Hannock!” warned Jared, raising his voice slightly. “That’s enough. Let’s just hear Emnor’s explanation. Once we’re done with these things, we’ll execute them. Until then, I need you to calm yourself.”

  Hannock cast filthy looks between Emnor and Yello. Not wanting to disobey or insult Jared, he turned on his heel and stormed off toward the doors to Reiggan. “Do not make me regret this, wizard!” he shouted.

  Jared, without turning, spoke to Emnor, “Whatever your plan is, my friend, it had better be good.”

  Emnor, flanked by the silent Gerrowliens, explained to Jared the brief conversation they had overheard between the Dergon. One by one, the boys were released and instructed to strip the Dergon of all weapons. This done, their enemies’ hands and feet were bound before, eventually, they too were freed from the binding spell.

  Ramah immediately went into a rage. “You call us cowards!” he roared. “You outnumber us, use your magic tricks against us, bind our hands and feet before you face us and we are branded as cowards. What does that make you?” he sneered.

  Jared walked slowly toward Ramah. He looked the proud Dergon in the eye, fingering the ropes around his wrists then, without warning, punched him in the face with all the power he could muster. Ramah, unbalanced by the bindings around his feet, fell backwards and landed heavily. Jared walked around him, no emotion showing as his second blow struck his captive. This time, a heavy kick from his iron-capped boot that struck Ramah in the ribs. He began to speak slowly, “Do you, for one moment, believe that I have a single care about what you think of me?” A second kick struck Ramah, this time to his jaw.

  Korbah attempted to shuffle forward in a vain attempt to protect his chief, but he was easily felled by a blow, delivered by Emnor’s staff. Jared continued, “You slaughtered innocents, mutilated my people, men, women and children, butchered like cattle. I should have allowed my captain his pleasure, allowed him to gut you as I watched. My friend here…” Jared pointed at Emnor, “… seems to think that you may be of some use to us. I, however, hope that he is wrong,” Jared placed his foot on Ramah’s throat, applying his full weight and stemming Ramah’s breath. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than to hear your screams of agony, dog. And you will scream, that, I will promise you. Your pride will not allow you to offer us any aid, and if you will not offer it freely, we shall take pleasure from extracting it by any means necessary. If you wish a quick, clean death, I suggest you co-operate. If not, simply nod and I can summon my captain, I’m sure he would relish using his skills to loosen your tongue.”

  Removing his foot from Ramah’s throat, Jared knelt down, glaring into his prisoner’s swollen, bloodshot eye, “I see your hatred, Dergon. I can feel your yearning. Oh, how you wish to have a blade in your hand, to strike me down and taste my blood. But I cannot allow that. Perhaps we should remove that temptation.” Rising, he turned to Yello. “Amputate its arms,” he instructed. “On second thoughts, start with the other one, and make this one watch. Then it can be his turn.”

  Ramah and Korbah were hauled to their feet with a single wave of Emnor’s staff. Korbah resisted with every fibre of his being, trying to wrench his arms free as they were stretched out in front of him. Yello studied Korbah’s wrists, pinching at the skin to ascertain its toughness. He crossed to where Hannock had laid out an impressive array of weaponry. First to hand was a sword, which he raised and studied briefly. Glancing over his shoulder, he quickly discarded it before reaching for a large broadaxe. He ran his thumb across the edge of the blade and tutted. “Not very sharp,” he muttered, “I suppose it’ll do. Might have to hack at it a bit, but it’ll get the job done.” Reaching down to the ground, he picked up a small stick and offered it to Korbah. “Want to bite down on this?” he asked. “This might sting a bit.”

  Korbah wriggled and pulled, but it was obvious that no physical force would free him from his invisible, magical bindings. Yello placed the edge of the axe against his wrists, then raised it above his head.

  “WAIT!” roared Ramah, “What do you need? Stop this now, I beg of you. Do not mutilate my Dergon brother.”

  Yello turned his back to the two Dergon and winked at Jared. Had it all been an elaborate bluff? Emnor was unsure. Either way, it had worked.

  The Dergon were dragged unceremoniously from the courtyard and thrown into a dark room, deep within Reiggan. Jared began their interrogation. “What use would the hissthaar be to you, Dergon?” he asked. “Why befriend them?”

  “Because your kind have all but rendered my kind extinct. I needed allies.”

  “For what?” continued Jared. “Two Dergon scum and a few serpents. Hardly an elite fighting force.”

  “They were not needed as an army, fool. Merely a distraction,” Ramah hissed. “A strategy I learned by accident.”

  “What kind of distraction? Lurking on the outskirts of another defenceless village until the opportunity arises to sneak in and butcher more innocents?”

  “We have no interest in attacking villages, Borellian. Our prey is far more substantial.”

  “And what prey is that?” snarled Jared.

  “We seek vengeance on the shadow lord. We were defeated and our differences with your kind are at an end. Our only aim is to destroy the sorcerer Karrak!”

  Jared was taken aback momentarily but remained staunch. It would not pay to show any emotion in front of his captive. “This… shadow lord, this… Karrak, what do you know of him?”

  “Only what he told us. He is a Prince of Borell and means to usurp his father and brother in order to take the throne.”

  “Why would that involve you? Were you in his employ in some way?”

  “We had declared war on the Borellians but you were too strong for us. Your superior numbers gave you victory. Karrak came to me after the battle and offered his aid in our revenge. He said that all I needed to do was entice the Borellians from the gates of the castle with the few that remained of my army and he would destroy them… but he deceived us.”

  “You mean he turned his back on you once you had done your part?”

  Ramah spoke quietly and slowly, still in disbelief at his own words, “We lured Borell’s troops from the castle as Karrak had instructed. He appeared between the open gates as planned, I saw him laughing as my loyal warriors were cut down. Korbah and I were the only ones to escape. My entire army perished.”

  “Do you expect pity from me, Dergon? Do you believe that your treachery and malice toward my people should be forgiven simply because your planned butchery failed? You and your followers were raiders, vermin that deserved to be eradicated from this world, and you received those just deserts.”

  “And what of you?” roared Ramah, “Following a fat king who cares more about his own protection than that of his people or lands. A king who, once the battle commenced, sat astride his mount, giving orders, too afraid to
join the melee himself. His eldest son, the first Prince of Borell is the greatest coward of all. He never even had the bravery to ride out with his men. Stayed inside the castle, cowering under his bed, no doubt!”

  Jared remained calm. The slight toward the heir of Borell was not directed at him but toward an unknown entity, in Ramah’s mind. “How would you view the Borellians if I, as one of them, were to deign to release you? Surely, the first thing you would do is seize a weapon and attempt to strike me down?”

  “If it were the course I chose to take, there would be no ‘attempt’. I could kill you with my bare hands in a fair fight, I would have no need of weapons. But as I have already informed you, my quarrel is now with the shadow lord. Release us. Return us to whence you kidnapped us and our paths will not deliberately cross again. You have my word.”

  “I shall give it due consideration, but I need more information first.”

  “What makes you think that I know more?” asked Ramah.

  “Why do you refer to your enemy as ‘the shadow lord’?” asked Jared.

  Ramah shuffled around, trying to get more comfortable. “When we first met, his features were similar to any other Borellian male. Larger in stature than most I noticed, but much the same as the rest.”

  “And now?” asked Jared.

  “I have not seen him since that day outside the castle walls, but I have heard rumours.”

  “Rumours? From the hissthaar?” asked Jared.

  “Apparently Karrak’s features are now disfigured, hidden in some way. Even his gait has changed. His arrogant strut has gone, he moves as if he were floating on the air. It is said that if one is unfortunate enough to see it, his face appears as a sinister black mist. Something to do with his use of dark magic, I would guess,” replied Ramah.

  “How did the hissthaar find out about Karrak?”

  “There are bands of hissthaar everywhere. I’m not sure exactly how they came upon the knowledge. Karrak seized a castle, Merrsdan, slaughtered an entire band of hissthaar with a wave of his hand. He’s using the castle as a base, allegedly, and has scores of mindless slaves renovating it.”

  Jared stared at Ramah. Could he believe the Dergon? Ramah offered his hands to his captor and nodded toward his bindings. Jared ignored his plea. Turning swiftly, he marched through the door, followed by Emnor and Yello who promptly locked it behind them.

  “Maybe we should discuss this further, upstairs, Jared,” suggested Emnor. “Away from prying ears,” he added, pointing at the door behind them.

  Emnor called everyone together for yet another meeting. Once the tale of Karrak had been shared, each member of the assembly was offered the opportunity to voice their opinion.

  Hannock was the first to speak. “Shadow Lord!” he exclaimed. “What a load of crap. They’re lying, Jared, making up stories so that you’ll release them.”

  “I’d love to agree with you, my dear Captain but, unfortunately, I cannot. Karrak has the Elixian Soul, and given time, it will destroy and consume its host completely,” stated Emnor.

  “Why are we hanging around then? Let’s just find him and destroy him,” Drake had a point, as blunt as it was.

  “He’s right of course. The sooner we track him down, the sooner we can put an end to his evil,” agreed Jared.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Harley. The others glanced across at him, awaiting some sort of revelation. “We have Tallarans Eye. You were supposed to be finding Karrak by using that, remember?”

  “If we are to believe what that animal downstairs told us, we already know where he is. All we have to do now is get there and kill him,” said Drake.

  Emnor began rummaging through his robes. “Here we are,” he said. “We shall use the Tallarans Eye to confirm whether or not the Dergon is telling the truth.” Placing the mysterious artefact on a bench, he looked across at Yello. “Do you have that piece of cloth with you, old man?” he asked.

  “This isn’t going to work,” scoffed Jared. “That old piece of rag could be anything.”

  “As a matter of fact…” said Hannock, thoughtfully, “… it isn’t. Jared, do you remember that day in the courtyard in Borell, the day I broke the pikestaff across the back of Karrak’s head?”

  “How could I forget it?” asked Jared. “That was my favourite shirt.”

  “We gave orders for Karrak to be bound and gagged before being taken to his chambers.”

  “And?” asked Jared.

  “And that was the kerchief I stuffed in your brother’s mouth. That was the gag that was used on Karrak.”

  “But it doesn’t belong to him, does it? We needed one of his possessions.”

  “But doesn’t that make it Karrak’s?” suggested Emnor. “Hannock, presenting it to him, in whatever circumstance, makes it his.”

  Jared shook his head. “I’m not convinced,” he mumbled. “Obviously, I’m not looking at it the same way as you are. Give it a try by all means. What do we have to lose?”

  Yello took the Tallarans Eye and wrapped it gently in the kerchief before placing them both in the centre of the bench. He leaned forward expectantly, as did the others, but nothing changed. It was simply an ancient amulet wrapped in a piece of fabric.

  Jared gave a sigh, “What were you hoping would happen, Emnor?”

  “It should show us a vision of a location or at least a landmark, something that would direct us to Karrak,” replied Emnor.

  “It’s as I feared,” said Yello.

  “What is?” asked Hannock. “The gag was useless after all?”

  “Oh no, the gag would have worked perfectly to find Karrak,” replied Yello.

  “So why isn’t the Eye showing us where he is?” asked Jared.

  A knowing look passed between Emnor and Yello, a look that did not go unnoticed by Jared. “What are you not telling us, Emnor? Enough games, out with it!” he snapped.

  “I am afraid, Jared…” began Emnor, “… your brother is gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean, gone?” asked Jared, frowning.

  “All that was Karrak, all that was ‘your brother’, has been consumed by the Elixian Soul. Your brother’s body is now no more than a vessel, a hollow shell that contains nought but pure evil.”

  “Are you saying my brother is dead?” exclaimed Jared.

  “Unfortunately not, Jared,” replied Emnor. “He has suffered a far worse fate. He will exist merely as an observer within his own body, but never again will he command it.”

  Jared lowered his head. He had endured so much pain and anguish as a result of Karrak’s ways that he, perhaps, should have felt some sort of relief. But Karrak, despite his faults, had been his brother, and it saddened his heart to think of him as gone. “Is there no hope?” he asked, solemnly. “Can we not, somehow, save him?”

  “Sorry, Your Highness, but why would we want to? He’s been an absolute nightmare. This is a blessing in disguise, now we won’t have to hesitate when we face him. Now that we know he’s not your brother,” said Drake.

  Jared jumped to his feet and glared at the young wizard. He conjured a fireball and pointed at Drake with his free hand. “I’ve warned you before!” he bellowed.

  It seemed that it was not only Jared who was at the end of his tether. Drake was tired of being ordered around by all who were senior to him and, deciding to accept Jared’s blatant challenge, he held his hands out in front of him, a swirling white mist distorting their shape. “Come on then, pretty boy. Let’s see what you’ve learned,” he yelled.

  Jared launched the fireball. Drake laughed as it reached him, holding up one hand and catching the fireball then spinning it in the air like a lasso before sending it straight back toward Jared. Hannock took a step but Emnor grabbed his arm gently and shook his head. They, Yello and the others, retreated to a safe distance. They were going to allow the battle to continue.

  Fireballs, ice shards, tsunamis and gale force winds were launched between the warring wizards, but neither could get the better of the
other. Drake was suddenly launched into the air, but even as he took flight, a huge chunk of ice flew through the air and hit Jared full-force in the chest as Drake crashed into a distant wall. Both climbed unsteadily to their feet, and try as they might, neither could land another magical blow.

  Ten more minutes passed, an eternity for a wizard continually casting spells, spells that were gradually becoming weaker and weaker. Their energy drained, the duellists had collapsed to their knees and were crawling toward one another. Ice spells that were now so pathetic that they were no more than snowballs, and what were tsunamis were now mere splashes of water. As for the fire spells, well, a flint could have produced a brighter spark. Now face to face, they resorted to pushing one another until, with a loud grunt, Drake pushed Jared onto his back before collapsing in a heap. It seemed the battle was over.

  Initially, the spectators were a little concerned, but that concern had soon turned to admiration as they began cheering before, eventually, that admiration dwindled to boredom. Hannock turned to Emnor and Yello. “Fancy a glass of wine?” he asked.

  “Excellent idea,” replied Yello. Beckoning Xarran, Harley and Alex, they all headed indoors, leaving Jared and Drake on the ground, still attempting to shove one another occasionally.

  The Gerrowliens, as a race were teetotallers. They had never been interested in the consumption of alcohol. Poom and Lawton, after declining a gracious invitation from Hannock, wandered off to find a secluded area to allow them to do what cats do best… sleep.

  “I take it…” asked Hannock, “… that either one of you could have stopped that at any time if it became too dangerous?”

  “What?” replied Yello, blowing a very loud raspberry. “Get in between that lot? Not bloody likely!”

  Needless to say, it was some time before Jared joined them. He limped into the room holding his ribs, followed by Drake, who was nursing a black eye, swollen shut by the bruising.