The Cessation of Karrak_Ascension III Page 3

  Jared looked at his friend in admiration, “Why, Hannock?” he asked.

  “Because you’ve blunted it,” replied Hannock.

  “No. I’m not talking about the dagger, you idiot. I’m talking about you. Why are you here? Borell has fallen, there is no king, yet still you hold your sense of duty toward a house that no longer exists. It’s all gone, Hannock. There is nothing that binds you to your service of it anymore.”

  Hannock straightened his tunic, as shabby as it was looking, he attempted to maintain an elegant appearance, “There’s you, Your Highness,” he replied. “You are heir to the throne, Jared. I swore to protect all members of House Dunbar and I will never break my vow.”

  “The throne of Borell!” exclaimed Jared, “There is no throne, Hannock. There is nothing left! All that remains is a king whose mind is in shreds and a prince who has no subjects, a prince who has no idea what to do next. I’m as lost as the rest of you! It all ended, Hannock. It ended when my brother destroyed everything that you and I hold dear. We were so proud, so foolish. It was a dream! Borell, the safe haven where all citizens would be protected from harm. They were unaware that the worst threat of all lay within the very walls that were set to protect them!” Jared sank to his knees, “Why did I not end this long ago? Why did I not kill Karrak when I had the chance?”

  Hannock squatted down in front of his friend. Placing his hand beneath Jared’s jaw, he gently raised his head and looked deeply into his eyes. “Because you’re not him,” he whispered. “Because your heart is not as hard and cold as ice, because you are an honourable man who wants desperately to believe that there is good in all of us. That’s why, Jared.”

  Jared nodded.

  “But!” exclaimed Hannock, realising how sombre the mood had become, “We all make mistakes. Man or boy, Karrak was always a git! Now get up, we’ve got things to do.”

  Smiling, Jared rose from the ground once more. Following his friend, he glanced around the cave. The gibbonites were as relaxed as ever and as he passed them the one that Lawton and Poom had followed gave him the familiar ‘thumbs up’ and smiled at him. Jared wondered if it would be so carefree if it knew the possible fate that the future had in store.

  ***

  “I do not need to lose weight! I got through the entrance, didn’t I?”

  “Yes you did, Lawton. But only after you cut your way through,” laughed Poom.

  “I might not have had to if there hadn’t been so much of your fur caught on the branches, hang on a minute I need to cover my eyes, the sun’s shining off your bald patches.”

  “Oh ha, ha. How original.”

  “Have you two quite finished?” asked Yello, frowning. “You behave like a couple of spoilt children some days.”

  The two Gerrowliens looked at one another and sniggered. “Every day,” whispered Poom, nudging Lawton.

  “So, what’s the plan?” asked Drake.

  “I’ve calculated that we can reach Mellanthion before nightfall, providing we are all in agreement, of course,” said Emnor.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Emnor, but have you gone off your rocker?” laughed Hannock, “You do realise how far it is, don’t you?”

  “No, I haven’t and yes, I do,” replied Emnor. “It’s simple really. We use relocation spells. We have plenty of water now.”

  “Unlike Alex and Xarran…” said Harley, his voice tailing off.

  “Why the long faces?” exclaimed Yello. “Don’t you dare give up on them! I’ve had dealings with some of the greatest wizards that have ever lived and those two will be fine, they probably just got a little sidetracked.”

  “You actually believe that they would allow themselves to be sidetracked, knowing that there was a possibility that we were still out here, dying of thirst?” asked Harley, pointedly.

  “I never said ‘allow’, now did I? Of course, they wouldn’t allow themselves to be sidetracked. What I meant was that they probably ran into an unforeseen obstacle that delayed them slightly.”

  “Or they’ve fallen off a cliff; or have been eaten by wolves; or have met up with some of Karrak’s lot and been burnt alive.” The group turned and faced Poom in disbelief. “Just saying! Come on now, you were all thinking it.”

  “Perhaps!” said Emnor, “But we would never be so indelicate as to say it, you stupid Gerrowlien.”

  “Bit harsh isn’t it?” sniggered Poom.

  “Can we please get back to the plan,” urged Drake. “If we intend to reach Mellanthion by nightfall, we’d better get a move on!”

  Emnor smiled at him, “Well said, Drake. Everybody gather round.”

  ***

  “You’ve done alright, so far, I suppose. But what’s it all for? You must have some sense of purpose? And before you start, don’t give me all the usual crap about dominating the world and everyone fearing and bowing down to you. It’s so boring.” Xarran turned to face Karrak, “Nothing to say? Thought as much. None of this makes any sense. Love what you’ve done with the castle by the way, you’ve really captured the derelict, crappy look perfectly. Wanting to rule the world, I understand that part. Wanting people to fear and bow down to you, I get that too. But it’s never going to happen is it, Father? Do you know why? Because you kill everyone in sight or turn them into a beast or a part of your undead army!” he bellowed.

  The chapel in which they stood was damp and dimly lit. Half-stocked candelabras set on the altar caused the shadows of the statues about them to perform a macabre dance on the walls behind them. The occasional groans from the ghoulish guards echoed around the cavernous room, resounding like an undead chorus to the highs and lows of Xarran’s voice.

  “You should beware, boy,” Karrak said slowly. “The Elixian Soul has its own agenda. Do not be fooled for a single moment that you have any control over its power.”

  “I have no delusions of that, Father. What I do believe is that, you do have control over its power, and I have control over you. That is all I need.”

  “You are deluded, boy. Walk away now and I shall allow you to live. Refuse my offer and the price you will pay later is one that you can ill afford.”

  “Oh, please!” exclaimed Xarran, “More threats? You can’t touch me, old man. You’ve tried, and failed, or hadn’t you realised that the Soul wants me around for a reason?”

  “Tell me, boy, for what reason does it want you? Do you have any idea at all?”

  “Stop calling me ‘boy’,” roared Xarran. “Do not provoke me, Karrak, or you may find yourself joining your own ranks.”

  “Forgive me,” said Karrak in a mocking tone. “You feel that you are safe, and from a direct attack from myself it appears that you are. What if I were to force my will upon another and compel them to do you harm?”

  “Ifs, buts and maybes, Karrak. Be quiet, I’ve heard enough. Time to arrange a little test of strength, I think.” Xarran strolled across to Alex. Still in a trance, he stood eyes wide as Xarran stroked his cheek, “Would you like that, Alex? Shall we send some of the nasty dead men to attack the little wizards and Uncle Jared? Shall we have them tear the flesh from your little friends?” Without realising, Xarran was beginning to sound more like Karrak by the hour. His voice was deep and rasping, his eyes were tinged red and his thoughts were becoming warped and twisted.

  ***

  “What if they’ve had to leave Reiggan? How will we know where to find them?” asked Lodren.

  “Don’t ye think we should get there first? Trust you to start worryin’ about things that ‘aven’t ‘appened yet.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being prepared for the worst.”

  “S’pose not. But there’s nothin’ wrong with a bit of optimism now and again either,” snorted Grubb.

  “Ooh, Grubb. This is going to be so much fun!”

  “I’m glad you’re lookin’ forward to it. I’m crappin’ meself!”

  “Oh, Grubb, REALLY! Do you always have to be so crude?”

  Grubb spun round and stuck his nose against
Lodren’s “It could’ve been worse, stumpy. I was bein’ polite!”

  Although still excited, Lodren had managed to calm himself slightly and he, Grubb and Faylore were now gathering provisions, preparing properly for the next chapter of their adventure. Lodren, as usual, was paying particular attention to his pots and pans as he sat on the ground cramming anything he could think of into his trusty backpack, “I think it’ll be a bit colder up there, Grubb, make sure you wear something warm,” he advised.

  “Yes Mum!” replied Grubb.”

  “Are you ready, Lodren?” called Thelwynn.

  “We’ll be with you in just a moment,” replied Faylore.

  “No, Your Majesty, not you. Someone will collect you presently. For now, I need only the Nibrilsiem.”

  “The what?” exclaimed Grubb. “What did he call him, Faylore? A nibrillillosummat.”

  “That’s not what he called him, Grubb,” Faylore hissed, glaring at him and shaking her head vehemently.

  “What did he call me then? I wasn’t listening,” mumbled Lodren, not even looking up from his packing.

  “I’m not really sure,” lied Faylore. “Probably just a dragon word, a term of endearment, I suppose.”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” said Lodren, still only half paying attention.

  Grubb was staring in amazement at Faylore, “You lyin’…” he mouthed. The piercing look that Faylore gave him was enough to make him realise that now would be a good time for him to shut up.

  Faylore swept away, “My lord, Thelwynn. I do not understand. I thought that we agreed that you would carry us?”

  “No, Your Majesty. We agreed that it would be much quicker for you and the rest of your party to be carried by dragon to reach your friends. I never said that I was capable of carrying all of you. Then there is the Nibrilsiem to consider. He is the true dragon rider. Surely you would not expect him to share his saddle with another?”

  “In the past, we have always shared whatever we have. Food, shelter, we have… Saddle!” she suddenly yelled, “What do you mean, saddle?”

  “You don’t expect a Nibrilsiem to ride a dragon without it? We are very proud of it, my kin and I. We have taken care of it for centuries in the hope that one day, the Nibrilsiem would return.” Thelwynn actually seemed more excited than Lodren at the thought of being ridden like a pony.

  Faylore was exasperated. She pointed at Lodren, “He’s a five foot Nibby,” she said slowly. “He’s a nomad who wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  “No, madam. That’s only what he appears to be. His heart is that of a sky warrior.” Raising his voice slightly, he called politely to Lodren, “Lodren, would you care to join me for a little walk?”

  Lodren looked across at him and then down at his trusty backpack.

  “Yes, you can bring that with you,” said Thelwynn, “you’re going to need that.” He watched as the Nibby, once again, seemed unsure of his next move, “The hammer as well,” he added.

  Lodren picked up his belongings and, after briefly shrugging his shoulders at Grubb, followed the dragon lord. “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Not far,” replied Thelwynn, “I’ll need a bit more room in which to spread my wings than is afforded to me here, I’m afraid. Oh, and I have a gift for you.”

  “What sort of gift?” Lodren asked suspiciously. “It’s not dart-shaped with green feathers on it, is it? I don’t want to wake up in a strange place with no memory of how I got there again, thank you.”

  “Not at all. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “Never mind,” sighed Lodren. “As long as you promise that’s not what’s going to happen?”

  “You have my word, Lodren. This is a gift with which you will be delighted, I’m sure.”

  “What is it then?”

  They were at the edge of the glade where they had first encountered Jendilomin after arriving in Thedar. Thelwynn was delighted with being able to move without the fear of treading on something, or someone, by accident and unfurled his wings to their fullest extent. Lodren’s mouth fell open. He had witnessed the dragons stretch themselves before but not until now did he realise just how gigantic they were. Thelwynn gave a huge yawn and smacked his lips together a few times before turning to face Lodren. The Nibby sucked in his cheeks. For a dragon lord to pull a face like the one that Thelwynn now wore was far from flattering. He looked positively gormless. His eyes were half-closed, and the ends of his lips curled upwards showing what could only be described as a ‘silly grin’, “It’s hidden beneath that bush,” he sighed, pointing one of his huge claws.

  Lodren stooped and shuffled into the foliage beside him. His hand fell on something smooth and he grabbed it tightly and pulled. Staring at the shiny black surface, he smiled up at Thelwynn, “It’s lovely!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically, “What is it?”

  “You don’t know?” asked Thelwynn, genuinely surprised.

  “It could be a pillow,” replied Lodren. “But it would have to be for someone with a head that’s even bigger than mine!”

  “It is not a pillow!” said Thelwynn, slowly, “It is the saddle of a dragon rider.”

  “Oooh!” exclaimed Lodren, “Am I going to meet a dragon rider?”

  Thelwynn sighed, “No, Lodren you are not going to meet a dragon rider,” he replied.

  “That’s a shame. I’d bet they have loads of tales about heroic deeds and all the adventures they…”

  “You are the dragon rider!”

  Lodren looked at him blankly, and then burst out laughing, “Do you know?” he said, “For a second there, I thought you said that I was the dragon rider.”

  Thelwynn lay down in front of Lodren, placing his head flat on the ground and fixing his gaze on the Nibby.

  Lodren stopped laughing, “Me?”

  Thelwynn nodded.

  “No! Not me. I’m a Nibby, a traveller. I camp outdoors and watch the stars. I make campfires and do my catering. I’ve never been on a dragon’s back in my life! It wouldn’t be right. You don’t ride dragons!”

  “Have you finished?” asked Thelwynn. “Only, the sooner we get started, the sooner you’ll understand.”

  “Understand? Understand what? There is nothing to understand!” rambled Lodren. “I’m just a Nibby, plain and simple. I may have been a little over-excited when you first suggested it, and I’m sorry for that. Not that I wouldn’t still love to be able to go into the clouds with you, but a saddle? That can’t be right! Can it?”

  “Calm down, Lodren. After all, it’s what you wanted anyway.”

  “I know that. I don’t know much about them but it looks as if this saddle is only made for one person. Who’s going to hold on to me when we’re up there?” he asked, gesturing toward the clouds with his thumb.

  “You won’t need anyone else, Lodren. The moment you sit in that saddle you’ll understand. It’s where you belong. If you have the slightest concern, I won’t even attempt to fly with you on my back.”

  The next few minutes were quite stressful for both parties. Lodren had never dreamt of, let alone tried to saddle a dragon. Thelwynn unfortunately, was proving to be of little help. His clawed hands were far too big for him to be able to offer any practical aid and not being able to turn his head far enough to see what Lodren was doing limited any helpful advice he may have had to offer. All that the poor dragon could do was try to offer the frustrated Nibby encouragement, “Now Lodren, take that strap, no not that one, the other one. That’s right, now thread that underneath that one, no, the one in front of that one, oh dear now you’ve got it twisted. How did those two end up knotted together? Perhaps we should start again!”

  “NO! I’VE HAD ENOUGH!” roared Lodren, “Stupid flipping thing! See, now I’m using bad language. This was a bad idea from the start!”

  They heard the laughter from behind them and turned to see Grubb and Faylore who were in hysterics at their antics.

  “Ye should see the pair of ye, IT’S BLOODY HILARIOUS! Talk about the left ‘and not knowin’ what
the right one’s doin’? I could watch this all day.”

  “If you think it’s that funny, WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A GO!” bellowed Lodren, launching the saddle at Grubb.

  It fell in front of the Vikkery who, transforming into Wilf in order to be able to lift it, picked it up and walked toward them. “S’pose I’d better or we’ll be ‘ere all day, ye moron. Look, it’s just a bigger version o’ Buster’s saddle. Got to be honest though, ‘avin’ four arms don’t ‘urt none either.” His hands, all four of them, were almost a blur as he set about his task. With a slight grunt he pulled the last strap snugly into place. “Told ye it was easy,” he said, smugly. “’ow’s it feel, Thelwynn? Not too tight, is it?”

  Thelwynn shook his head, “No, not at all,” he replied. “It feels surprisingly comfortable actually. Wish I’d tried it on years ago,” he held his hands up in front of him and studied them, “Then again,” he added.

  “Come on then, stumpy. Up ye go,” laughed Grubb, having dwindled back to his normal self.

  “Alright, alright! Don’t rush me, I’m doing it, okay? No I don’t need any help, thank you. Grubb, will you stop trying to… now look what you’ve done. Just take a step back and…” Lodren was becoming frustrated with the unwanted aid being offered by his friend. “Now all I need is my hammer. Grubb, you’re standing on it. I don’t care if it helps you see without changing, get off it!”

  Eventually, Lodren gripped the edge of the saddle and hauled himself into it. He was a little nervous, but only for a second. Thelwynn stood up allowing Lodren a completely new experience, the landscape viewed from a dragon rider’s perspective. The Nibby suddenly felt powerful, an unexpected exhilaration swelling his chest. Gripping his hammer tightly, he held it aloft, “For the Nibrilsiem, YAAARRGHHH!” he roared.

  Faylore and Grubb were shocked by his sudden battle cry. They had never seen him behave this way before and would never have believed it possible if they hadn’t witnessed it first-hand.

  “Know what?” muttered Grubb, “I think ‘e likes it.”