Tak

The Gem Lords - Part 3

     Darking Forest lay on the other side of the Hallow Hills, a region that was infested with the tunnels of the Khi-Mo, a vicious race of diminutive humanoids who laid traps and ambushes for passing travellers whom they then took great delight in torturing to death. Tak expected to see something of them while he was passing through and he wasn't disappointed.

     It was early afternoon of the next day when the ground on either side of him burst open to release a dozen of the naked, green skinned creatures, but Tak was ready for them and their tiny arrows, tipped with the tranquilising sap of local plants, bounced harmlessly from the shield of magical force he'd erected around himself. Instead of falling, paralysed, from his horse to be bound up and carried away, therefore, he reached out his hand and crimson streamers leapt from his fingertips to wrap themselves around the astonished humanoids and leave them writhing on the ground, struggling furiously.

     Curious, Tak dismounted and approached one of the creatures and spent a few minutes examining it, studying especially its delicate, nimble hands and large brained head. If they weren't so nasty, he thought, they could probably build quite a civilisation for themselves, but then the same could probably be said of humanity. Smiling at the thought, he mounted his horse again and rode off, knowing that the crimson ribbons would evaporate an hour or so later. Someone else might have killed the nasty, spiteful creatures, but Tak preferred to spare anyone or anything that wasn't a direct threat to him. That made him unusual for his time.

     He reached Darking Forest towards evening of the next day, and after an hour or so of searching he came across the road from the city that led to Cuthbert's stronghold. He rehearsed in his mind what he was going to say when he saw the zombie master; that Khalkedon wanted him to learn how to raise zombies himself so that he'd be of more use to him on the battlefield. It would have been a clumsy lie under other circumstances, as Cuthbert would have checked it with the rak King at the first opportunity, but it only needed to get him in through the outer gates. Then he could say that he'd give him more details in the morning. Cuthbert would never get the chance to check the story because, hopefully, he would be dead.

     When he finally caught sight of the gaunt, grey stone castle, though, his heart leapt into his throat in sheer terror when he saw the one thing he'd never expected, as if the Gods Themselves had set out to scupper all their plans. The gates were open, and inside he could see a troop of soldiers, handing their horses over to one of Cuthbert's zombie grooms. The man they'd been escorting was nearby, talking to the master of the stronghold, and Tak nearly fell off his horse in terror and despair as he watched Cuthbert and Gal-Gowan chatting like old friends as they moved towards the inner keep.

     He thought about turning his horse around and hiding in the woods, remaining there until he'd had a chance to sort the situation out in his mind and decide upon a new strategy, but it was too late. Some of the soldiers had spotted him and Gal-Gowan had followed their gaze, wondering what had attracted their attention. Tak knew that his only chance was to ride in as though he had every right to do so, to just bluff it out. Above all, he couldn't be seen to hesitate, and so he urged his horse on and trotted in through the gates as both the other wizards turned to look at him.

     "Tak Eweela," said the ginger prince as the younger wizard dismounted, handing the reins to a zombie that he tried very hard not to look at. "What are you doing here? You have no business here."

     "I have business with Cuthbert," said Tak, who then made the mistake of looking the other wizard full in the face. The zombie master had become hideous to behold. Even the sight that had so shocked them at the victory feast was nothing compared to what he'd become now. He'd lost all his remaining hair, his nose was nothing more than a gaping, empty hole in the middle of his face and the blotched, discoloured skin of his scalp and cheeks hung in loose, flapping folds as if the very bones of his skull were crumbling beneath. His mouth was wider than that of any normal human being and his tongue looked like a fat worm writhing at the back of his throat. Despite himself, Tak had to back away a step, hating himself for his lack of self control.