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Excerpt from The Mask of
Ollock
By Robert F. Kauffmann
I
A tale is told of days long gone,
Of foul deeds unfolding ‘fore horrified eyes,
Of innocent citizens of a once noble nation
That before their faces came plain to see
Treachery, kinslaying, and wanton
war
5
Bringing a royal line to extinction,
Unraveling ultimately this kingdom of legend,
Preserved now only in ancient texts.
For, upon a time, was a kingdom called Umbra
Ruled by a kingly wizard wise
10
Practiced in the arts of wizardry and magic,
And versed as well in the justice of governance.
He ordered a realm remembered in lore
Of wealth and power, and equity for all
In a green rich land with kindly seasons
15
Where peace pushed fear of war afar.
Yet Olgo the king harbored one fatal flaw:
The love he bore for his only son.
It blinded him often to the lights of reason,
Inspiring kindness untempered by discipline.
20
But perhaps it was really the vice of pride,
Rather than the reasoning virtues of love
That henceforth prompted him foolishly to follow
A perilous path fulfilling all fates.
Now near to the time of his son’s attainment
25
Of the manhood that is the coming of age,
Olgo had felt a heaviness upon him:
A weakness that hearkens the coming of age,
Pressing him earthward to a timely grave.
For his life in bliss passed lightly by,
30
Till the passing of his wife and beloved queen
Made real in his mind his mortal estate.
So knowing soon his time would come
To lay aside his rod of rulership,
His ruminations came gravely to rest
35
Upon thoughts of passing in perpetuity
The right to rule along to his heirs,
Bearing in honor the crest of his house—
Or better still to his son alone,
Forever young upon his throne!
40
So it came to his mind to make a mask,
Pure and golden of Ollock’s face,
Woven in magics beyond imagining
That when set upon the face of its host
Would forever bestow him power unbounded
45
To preside over all his eyes surveyed:
Perpetually young and strong of limb,
He would rule forever free from death.
As preparations followed for his son’s celebration,
Olgo retired from public sight,
50
To the privacy of his Chambers of Sorcery
To work at weaving his wondrous spells.
So he set himself first to the arts of sculpture,
And the intricate craft of forging gold
To shape a likeness of his son beloved
55
In the beauty of gold, a wonder to behold.
As he worked the metal with tool and skill,
He muttered interwoven with the work of craft
The forces and power of sublime enchantments
Gleaned in research from rarest tomes
60
Storing formulae of arcane spells:
Ancient in power, dweomers divine,
They coursed through his being sapping his strength,
And taxing his skill and will to proceed.
In the end, his enterprise engendered
success, 65
Yielding a mask of gleaming gold,
Designed to encompass the entire head.
Its face bore the likeness of his son beloved,
And eyes set like stars with gleaming diamonds,
Harboring powers surpassing its author’s.
70
And so doing unwisely, he unwittingly wove
His hapless destiny, and own realm’s woes.
II
That following morning dawned
bright and clear,
When a blazing sun shed golden shafts
Of radiant beams upon the throne’s heir.
75
Majestic, the trumpets on high did blare,
Heralding processions marching to bear
The son of Olgo, Ollock the fair
To the citadel in celebration above
In confirmation of his future accession on
high. 80
Borne through the streets of the city below,
To the halls of the lofty citadel on high,
Upon a throne of honor and glory,
Was set this future king-to-be
Before an entourage of nobles admiring,
85
And flanked by the masses singing his praises,
Honoring the day of his coming of age
Marked by the passing of twenty-one summers.
They carried their object of honor before them,
Passing the doors of the citadel above,
90
And gathering in distinguished company within
That royal hall that held the throne of kings.
There, on a dais, was Ollock’s seat
Overlooking a distinguished and noble assembly.
They awaited a word from their gracious
host, 95
So Olgo arose to this lofty occasion.
He lifted his voice in musical speech
Presenting to them his beloved son
With overabundant adulation and praise.
His gushing sentiment was sickeningly sincere,
100
And his audience supped on his every word,
Cheering at every turn in his speech.
They were foolishly blind as their sovereign ruler
Toward their destiny woven near at hand.
For, in concluding this glowing praise of his heir,
105
Olgo then set on the face of his son
The golden mask he made in his forge,
Like a crown of majesty and sovereign authority.
So as an emperor enthroned in surpassing glory,
Ollock received this high kingly gift
110
Beyond his measure of wisdom and grace
To master the powers that dwelt within.
Though lacking maturity that comes with age,
And the depth of character forged in effort,
He was quick of mind and keen of wit,
115
And excelled in all things but kindness and charity—
Though he hid this darkness from those around him,
That the day would come through biding his time,
Wherein he could seize the crown he craved
That his iron will be imposed upon all.
120
Now an immediate awareness came to his mind
Of new found power of sorcery and magic,
Unearned by labor of heart and mind,
And this mask of his, misguidedly bestowed
Upon this weak and petty soul
125
Filled with greed and avarice abounding,
Was instantly a force for corruption and power
For the ultimate evil of ambition unbounding.
So his face then bore what history remembers
As an emblem of infamy: the Mask of Ollock.
130
And he arose in golden splendor and glory
>From this faulty figure of coronation.
And Olgo aloft lifted aging hands,
Crying aloud for the praise of his son:
“Behold, O hosts and distinguished lords,
135
Before you standing your future king!”
And a roar of cheers then thundered forth
>From the gathered assembly of nobility enthralled
On seeing the fairness of their future ruler
Blind to the darkness concealed in his soul,
140
And the wicked intentions that dwelt therein.
And following this gratifying catharsis of feeling,
They trailed in train his royal party
To the hall of feasting and celebration.
Hanging chandeliers and gilded ceilings
145
Graced this grandiose hall of plenty,
And aromatic scents of subtle delicacy
Filled the lofty airs surrounding
With festal pheromones of finest fare,
Entrancing the senses in symphonies of pleasure.
150
And, under these airs, the guests were seated
To enjoy this supper of surpassing elegance.
Now quick of wit and devious in mind,
Ollock was set to take advantage
Of those powerful nobles feasting away,
155
Unsuspecting and off their guard.
So in swift understanding of the use of his Mask,
He set on their minds enchantments of confusion
That with wills deluded they cast all caution
Away to the winds of abandon and fancy.
160
They began to drink with unbridled intemperance,
As unending flowed those powerful draughts
Of quality wine in limitless quantity,
And this elegant feast in all haste became
A mass of many a drunken revelry
165
Executed in endless and reckless abandon.
Immersed in wine and corruption’s foul stink,
Their grace-saving wits were passing to oblivion.
Their senses diluted, these nobles were caught
In a web of ensnarement, like hapless flies:
170
Numbed and oblivious by spider’s venom.
And thusly they fell to Ollock’s next spell,
Woven wordlessly by movement of will.
He set enchantments on meandering minds
Rendering irresistible susceptibility
175
To his proclamations of unending domination.
Now, the final enchantment he wove that evening
Upon these hapless guests of honor,
Was one surpassing its predecessors—
Non-magical in nature though it was.
180
For what he delivered was a powerful speech
Whose overwhelming potency was incomparable enough
That right-thinking minds could scarcely resist,
Let alone the wills of those spell-enthralled.
He arose from his seat in all his splendor,
185
His diamond eyes alight with fire,
And proclaimed in resounding tones his message:
“O wise and noble lords assembled,
Hear ye now what I have in my heart:
Today in our land prosperity abounds,
190
Ruled by my father and ye nobles before me.
We enjoy in comfort wealth without equal.
“Yet in our comfort and wealth abounding,
Shall our fortunes be cast like dice to Fate
To grow weak and besotted in complacency
195
Till overrun one day by envy-filled foes?
Or shall we seize the reins against future misfortune?
For neighbors presently friends to our face
Are eager for outward signs of our weakness
To overrun our realms at the earliest advantage.
200
“These enemies shall raze our fields and forts,
Setting our civilization ablaze;
They shall scour our land of hard-earned wealth,
And enslave our wives, and slay our sons,
And take our daughters to wed perforce
205
To pollute our blood with foreign filth,
And erase all memory of our glorious heritage,
Hard-won by the toil and blood of our fathers.
“Unless ye relish this woeful fate,
Consider rather our borders of late:
210
To the north and south and east and west,
Our enemies awaiting the chance for a kill!
Lulled are they by our outward weakness,
Believing we never would think to dare
To strike a blow to their hardened hearts,
215
And quash their pride in a mire of gore!
“Rather than awaiting this ultimate fate,
We must strike to kill and take their power!
Then, nevermore would they be a threat
To our divinely granted sovereignty,
220
And instead of ruin, we shall claim unto us
The wealth of these powerful lands about,
And by the arts of force and hard persuasion,
The future fealty of their burgeoning citizenry.
“Also, in time, we shall earn the fame,
225
And the wealth and power that bring it forth
As the greatest empire upon the earth
That history yet has ever seen,
If we act on opportunity providence provides.
So marshal ye therefore the troops of thy fiefs,
230
And before a fortnight yet hath passed,
Bring them before me in vast assembly.
“Then by the words of my spoken intentions,
And the sight of my noble golden face,
I might incite within those warriors’ hearts
235
The strength and will to noble victory:
An unquenchable fire blazing within,
Bursting forth to consume our foes,
That flowing from our hands will wealth abound,
And the honor and glory that victory brings.”
240
And in saying this, he sealed the fate
Of Umbra’s kingdom, and Olgo’s throne.
For in unison they raised an ignoble din—
Those nobles cheering in frenzied euphoria
For the glory in battle they soon would feel.
245
And many in spellbound and drunken stupor
Proclaimed him king in prematurity,
Caring not for its illegitimacy.
And with widening eyes beholding this scene,
Olgo was stunned to the core of his soul.
250
And in the trouble of his stricken heart,
He suddenly arose and fled from that hall.
Wounded in heart and soul and mind,
He had not the strength in the hall that night
To render the discipline so sorely needed
255
By this arrogant and willful boy before him.
And in such a state, he fled from sight
Amidst the grandeur of Ollock’s speech.
Pained in spirit by his reckless ravings,
He retired to his chambers to cry to sleep
260
His tremulous fears and emotions beneath.
And, perhaps in the dawning of a newborn day,
Resolution could be found in this difficult matter.
But, alas, winds of Fate had shifted against him.
