The Ascension of Karrak Page 3

  This is when there was a turn of events that no-one could have foreseen, especially Jared. As he had thrust his hands forward he had also turned his head and closed his eyes, waiting for the death blow, but he would not prove to be the victim today. His opponent was suddenly lifted from his feet, thrown ten feet in the air and propelled backwards at lightning speed. He cried out, in shock rather than in pain, and in a split second came back to earth some thirty feet away, crashing through a cart full of hay. This, luckily, braced his fall, for the ferocity of this unknown force could have quite possibly killed him, had he struck the castle wall. They all stood there aghast, mouths open unable to comprehend what they had just seen. The first to speak was the sword master, “What in the name of...?”

  The guard was quickly taken to the court physician. He was fine, mostly, just a few minor cuts and bruises suffered, not due to his fight, but by his landing. The Master at Arms checked Jared for wounds, but gave him the all-clear and, unsure of exactly what to do, dismissed him and Hannock for the rest of the day. The boys were now in Jared’s chambers cleaning off the mud, Jared dabbing gently at his bruises.

  “How the hell did you do it?” asked Hannock.

  “Do what? I didn’t do anything, I thought he was going to kill me and I just put my hands up to protect myself.”

  “Oh no, no, no, you don’t get off that lightly. It was as if you pushed him, really hard, but without touching him. But how?”

  “I have no idea, Hannock, honestly I don’t.”

  Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. “Your Highness, I must speak with you at the behest of your father.”

  “Oh bugger, here we go again,” whispered Jared so as not to be overheard by the unwelcome guest outside the door, “I never even did anything!”

  Jared opened the door gingerly and looked at the old man who now faced him.

  “Your Highness, His Majesty asked that I speak with you concerning events that occurred a short while ago in the courtyard during your, erm, training. Oh forgive me, where are my manners? I am Emnor.”

  “Please, come in,” gestured Jared.

  “That is most kind, Your Highness. Your father believes that it would be better if I were to speak with you… alone.”

  Jared glanced at Hannock, not really wanting him to leave.

  “Right, sorry,” said Hannock. Pulling his shirt over his head whilst trying to bow to Jared, a feeble attempt at a bow anyway, he hurried toward the door. “I’ll see you later, at dinner perhaps, Your Highness,” he said with a slight snigger and dashed through the door giggling to himself.

  “Strange boy,” said Emnor.

  “He’s my best friend,” said Jared, not liking the old man’s opinion of Hannock.

  “My apologies, Your Highness, I meant no offence.”

  “Am I in trouble again?” asked Jared closing the door.

  “I don’t know, Your Highness, should you be?”

  “Of course not, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Emnor said nothing and continued to gaze at the young prince.

  “Look, I don’t know what happened. I thought that man was going to kill me and the next thing I know, he’s lying in a broken hay cart. I never even touched him.”

  “Tell me,” began Emnor, “exactly what happened.”

  Jared began to relate the details of his sparring session earlier that morning. Emnor listened intently as Jared never missed out a single detail whilst giving his blow by blow explanation. Finishing his statement with, “So you see, I never actually did anything.”

  Emnor sat stroking his beard, “Interesting, very interesting,” he said.

  “What is?” asked Jared.

  “You said that you put your hands up in front of you? Is that so, or did you actually thrust them forwards?” asked Emnor.

  “Now you mention it, I think it was forwards,” replied Jared.

  “Good,” said Emnor, “very good indeed.”

  Jared sat there with a confused look on his face, thinking that the old man was another one of his father’s loonies. He had plenty of them. Soothsayers, astronomers and astrologers, or as the boys liked to call them, barmpots.

  “Tell me, Jared, oh, you don’t mind if I call you by name do you, Your Highness?”

  “Not at all, it saves time,” Jared replied.

  “How much do you remember of your mother?”

  “Nothing really, I was very young when she died. Sometimes I think I can remember her face but even then I’m not sure whether it’s her or somebody else. As I said, I was very young.”

  “Jared, I do believe, from your recollection of this morning, that you have a gift, a very special gift.”

  “What kind of gift?”

  “I think that you have the power of magic within you, Jared, and this morning was the very first sign of it.”

  “How marvellous! I can do tricks to impress the guards then maybe they’ll take it easy on me when we’re sparring, and Hannock will think it’s fun too.”

  “No, Jared, you do not understand. I do not speak of mere party tricks. The power you possess, if harnessed, could change your destiny forever, therefore we must begin your instruction very soon if we are to refine it. I shall speak with your father and together we shall draw up a schedule. Time is of the essence.”

  Before Emnor had finished his speech, Jared had come to a conclusion, the old man was just another barmpot.

  Emnor bowed and bade farewell to Jared, then swept through the door much faster than Jared thought a man of his age possibly could. For to young eyes, he looked very, very old.

  Jared flopped back onto his bed still more than a little confused. Great, he thought, more blasted training.

  Hannock had hidden behind a large tapestry, waiting for Emnor’s departure. He then raced back to Jared, so that he could learn of Jared’s conversation with the old man.

  “So what are you then? A mage, a wizard, or are you an evil sorcerer? Because if you’re one of those I can cut your head off now, stops you turning me into a toad later, see!” At this he burst into hysterical laughter, rolling around on Jared’s bed, holding his sides.

  “Shut your face, Hannock, it’s not funny. That barmpot might take me off to some damp old monastery in the mountains or something? You may never see me again.”

  Hannock stopped laughing and sat bolt upright, a frown appearing on his face. “Mmm hadn’t thought of that,” he said, “we’ll have to put a stop to that.”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it. I’m not saying that they will send me away, but there’s always a chance.”

  “Yeah, and there’s also a chance of you growing wings, a tail and sprouting horns now you’re an evil sorcerer, but let’s hope that doesn’t happen either,” said Hannock, as hysterics took hold of him again.

  “There’s just no talking to you when you’re like this, Hannock?” Jared promptly began beating him with a pillow.

  CHAPTER 3

  The next few months went as all others had with very little alteration to their daily schedule. The wooden swords were a thing of the past and they had now learned skills with shields, pikestaffs, longbows and crossbows, the only weapon that Jared was reluctant to discuss. Hannock found this amusing. The accident had taken place over a year ago now and, although he never told anyone, he liked his scar and felt it gave him more character. The real change was Hannock’s proficiency with a sword. He wielded it as if it were an extension of his own arm, impressing the best swordsmen in the guard as well as his father, and most of all, the captain. It was quite obvious to all that this boy was destined for great things.

  When they sparred against one another, however, the boys were fiercely competitive and neither would give any quarter. Many a time they attracted an audience without meaning to and guards could be seen making wagers amongst themselves, betting on the outcome. Strange that they would do this, for the result was always the same - Hannock won. The friends would never fall out over it, they were fa
r too close and just saw it as their own personal game. Although with most games one would never walk away with a split lip or a black eye.

  Once they had finished their session there were always the same comments from the guards: You’ll get him next time, Your Highness, I’ll still bet on you Sire, or, I can feel a big win coming my way. This would never happen, both boys knew that. They had worked hard, never complained and now fought well and this earned them a lot of respect from their brothers in arms. They were no longer regarded as children, they were regulars. Admittedly, they had never been into battle, but they had proved their worth and would soon be men.

  ***

  Winter had come to Borell once again. The landscape was covered with a thick blanket of snow and the air smelled fresh and clean. The memory of Emnor had left Jared and this morning, just like any other, he had breakfasted with his friend and they were now heading across the great hall to attend to their duties as fully-fledged members of the guard. As Jared walked, joking with Hannock, he felt small arms wrap around his leg.

  “Can I come with you today, Jared? I promise I won’t get in the way.”

  Jared leaned down and lifted the boy in his arms, being careful not to press him too hard against his chainmail. “And what could you do if I did take you with me, Karrak?” he asked.

  “I could feed the horses… or sweep the stables… or polish your sword…”

  “Those are not the duties of a royal prince, baby brother, and besides you aren’t that tall yet, we might lose you in the snow, it is quite deep. You just find something to do indoors where it’s nice and warm, I’ll see you when we return.”

  “I’m not a baby, I’m ten now. I hate it here, it’s so boring,” Karrak whined. Sliding from Jared’s arms, he stormed off in a huff.

  “Please tell me we were never that bad,” said Hannock.

  “Oh no my friend, we were much worse.” Laughing, they continued across the hall.

  They never made it to the door. Looking up, they saw the king enter, strange in itself as Tamor never took breakfast before nine o clock and it was not yet even six.

  They both bowed low.

  “Good morning to you both, and how does this fine day find you?”

  They replied in turn, eager to get on with their day but not daring to show it, one does not simply rebuff a king. As they stood exchanging pleasantries, another figure appeared to the side but slightly behind King Tamor.

  “Ah there you are, Emnor,” said the king, “I believe you have already met Emnor? He’s a very old friend of mine, and a wise one at that.” Jared and Hannock greeted Emnor. “Anyway, I’m glad I bumped into you both,” continued Tamor.

  “Emnor needs to speak with you Jared, and I need to have words with you, Hannock, and before you say anything, the guard have been informed that neither of you shall be reporting for duty today so don’t worry, it’s all been taken care of.” With this he took Hannock by the arm and steered him away, his voice trailing into the distance.

  Jared looked into the old man’s eyes. The barmpot, as he had referred to him in conversation with Hannock many months before.

  “Did you think that the old barmpot had forgotten you, Jared?” asked Emnor.

  Jared was unsure how to react to the question and simply continued to look at him. How the hell did he know? He and Hannock had been alone when they had had that conversation, it was not possible that anyone could have heard them, let alone Emnor himself.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve been called a lot worse in my time, of that you can be sure,” he said smiling, a warm smile that reached his eyes. “May we adjourn to somewhere a little more private? What I have to say is for your ears only.”

  The pair entered the library. Two young women sat together, working on their embroidery and seeing the handsome prince enter the room, began whispering to one another and giggling.

  “Excuse me, ladies, but my friend and I require a little privacy. Is there another room in which you could, perchance, continue with your embroidery?” Jared had always been taught that good manners cost nothing.

  The two women looked at one another for a moment but did not move, rather taken aback by the request of the young prince.

  “Did you not hear, you gossiping harpies,” bellowed Emnor, “the Royal Prince just told you to get out, now do so before I turn you into swine and have your bacon for breakfast.” His bellowing scared the wits out of the poor women, who scampered through the doorway, Emnor slamming the door behind them. “Do you know,” he said, “some days I do so love being me,” and began to chuckle, “always gets a result that does.”

  Jared wiped his hand across his face, he was right, an absolute barmpot.

  The discussion between the two lasted for most of the morning. Emnor explained that the magic he believed that Jared could command was from his mother’s side of the family. There was a history of white witches and mages trailing back centuries if one only knew where to find the archives which, strangely enough, could only be revealed with the use of magic. The one thing that had intrigued Emnor, however, was that the power was usually only passed on from mother to daughter and father to son, very rarely mother to son.

  “This is nonsense. I don’t know anything about magic, I’m a prince, don’t you think that’s enough to deal with? Can’t you pick on somebody else? I like my life the way it is, I’m not interested in your fantasies, old man,” snapped Jared.

  Jared’s outburst was more surprising to himself than it would have been to anyone else, proving that he was rapidly approaching adulthood. Emnor however was not surprised at all. “That’s it, my boy, get rid of the anger and confusion, it’ll help with your studies.”

  Emnor walked to the window and flung it open. He stretched out his arm and whilst faintly mumbling to himself, began to move his hand in a circular motion. Jared, out of curiosity, moved forward until he was standing directly behind Emnor. Ice crystals had begun to form around his hand, but were not actually touching it. Within seconds the ball of ice was about six inches in diameter. Without warning, Emnor thrust his hand forward. The ice-ball seemed to launch itself and was heading toward a tree that was at least a hundred feet away, gaining velocity as it did so, until with a loud crash, it hit one of the boughs, cleaving it from the trunk.

  Emnor turned to face Jared, “Fantasies?” he asked. Jared sat down slowly as Emnor closed the window, “So you see my dear Jared, this is what I offer you, but only if you are willing.”

  Jared nodded his head, “Well,” he said, “now that you put it like that…”

  It was agreed that Jared would continue to be a member of the guard and tend to his duties each morning. However, after lunch, he would report to Emnor for instruction in the ways of magic. True, his father did have reservations with Jared’s education in such things, but understood that he must be taught how to control it. His power had manifested itself once, uncontrolled emotion being the cause. It would not pay to have a repeat of the courtyard incident. A guard had been injured, but it could have been much worse. Tamor also realised that if Jared could master his powers, one day, if needed, they may aid him in the defence of Borell.

  Combining studies was not difficult for Jared. He was used to the way things worked as a member of the guard and dealt with them almost without thinking, but he adored his studies in magic. Emnor was impressed at how naturally magic came to Jared, he remembered everything he was told and could repeat it verbatim.

  The practical side however, did get off to a slightly shaky start.

  Emnor had decided that the theoretical side of things was falling into place very easily for Jared and that today would be his first practical test, but that they should ride a little way from the castle so as not to be interrupted. Being totally honest, he thought it would be safer.

  They had ridden for about two miles when Emnor stopped. They were at the edge of the western forest, a perfect spot. The trees opened slightly and a natural horseshoe-shaped clearing was at the very edge. Whilst practising
there, they could not be observed, or spied upon, his pupil had a right to privacy. To the side of the forest ran a small stream edged with large boulders. Emnor studied the scenery, pleased that he had discovered the perfect testing ground for Jared.

  “Now remember what I said, Jared, you must clear your mind, focus only on the spell, let nothing interfere with that focus and you’ll be fine.”

  Each member of the magical society had a particular affinity with one type of elemental magic. For some it was fire, others water, wind or lightning. Emnor’s, for instance, was water, but used as ice to increase its force. As of yet, neither of them knew exactly what Jared’s would be, but hopefully, they were about to find out.

  “Right then, Jared, let’s see what you’re made of, what element will it be?”

  “Well that’s the one thing I’m not sure of. If you remember, I never actually used any of those when I hurt the guard, I just kind of pushed him.”

  “Just kind of pushed him?” Emnor echoed.

  “Well that’s what happened,” shrugged Jared.

  “Well in that case I’ll leave it to you to decide.” Emnor sat down on a boulder, folded his arms, raised his eyebrows and waited.