"Poor sod," Vorden whispered, nodding toward the anxious lad. "That's Timlin Woodmaster, from Kalamede. I don't know why he was ever picked as a Squire. The boy has the courage of a Tree Goblin."
Lannon said nothing, understanding Timlin's fear. Less than a week before, Lannon had been a lonely lad living a secluded life in the woods, and now he was suddenly surrounded by boys his own age. Soon he would have to go before them and prove his worth in the Color Trials. But despite the special power the Knights believed he had, he didn't feel the Trials were going to be the least bit fun.
Chapter 5: The Color Trials
The boys gathered at tables in the Armory Hall. Eight girls, led by a grey-cloaked Birlote woman with short silver hair and soft green eyes, soon joined them. The Green Knights (there were five of them now) glanced up from their papers and gave stern looks whenever the chatter grew too loud. Vorden kept Lannon company, but they didn't talk much, except for a few comments on how anxious they were for the Color Trials to begin and how hungry Vorden was. Lannon didn't feel hungry at all.
Not long afterwards, the room fell silent as Cordus Landsaver entered the Hall, accompanied by two Knights. One of them had long white hair and beard, his face covered in many lines and wrinkles. He wore a plain, pale robe. He walked slowly, using a cane to help him along. The other, wearing a blue cloak, was bald and had a short black beard and stern eyes. The bald man and Cordus walked with deliberately slow steps to keep pace with the elderly man. Cordus positioned himself before the fireplace, and the other two took a seat with the Green Knights.
"I know everyone is hungry," Cordus said, "and so you'll be happy to learn that I haven't come to make a speech. However, we cannot begin the feast until my Tower Masters arrive. They should be along shortly." With that, he sat down with the High Council, in a special chair reserved in his honor.
A man dressed in a crimson robe and a feathered hat of the same color came in and stood before the fireplace. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, and his square jaw with bushy sideburns was set in a good-natured grin. "Greetings, new Squires of Dremlock Kingdom. I am Crestin Lightwielder--magician and general entertainer of Dremlock. It appears we have time for a song or two, while we wait for the Tower Masters. I'm sure they'll be here very soon, my young friends!"
Everyone waited patiently while Crestin played a haunting melody, which he called The Fall of Serenlock Castle, on a flute. Lannon was reminded of the crumbling ruins in the Northern Hills, and for a moment a deep sadness washed over him that he didn't quite understand. Then he remembered the statue of Tenneth Bard--the Black Knight and the founder of the Blood Legion--and his sadness turned into a shudder as he envisioned the statue's insane eyes staring down upon him.
The song was rather long, and afterwards, when the Tower Masters still failed to appear, the Green Knights exchanged irritated looks. They kept glancing at a Dragon Clock on the wall, which indicated--with some of its scales changing from red to silver--that it was around 2:30 in the afternoon. They began muttering quietly to each other and shaking their heads.
Finally Crestin began a speech about Knightly virtues and how fortunate the Squires were to have been chosen. Then he rambled on about glory, honor, and the wonderful deeds of Kuran Darkender and some other great Knights. Lannon listened for a while and then his attention began to wander. Suddenly Crestin pulled a shining object from his cloak. He flicked his wrist and tossed a green fireball into the air, where it hung for a moment. Then, as the Squires watched in awe, it exploded into shafts of red and white flame that zigzagged around the room, just barely missing everyone and everything.
Chaos ensued for a moment, as Squires and Council members ducked their heads and shielded their faces. This was followed by laughter and cheers when they realized no one was being harmed. The flaming shafts fizzled out.
The Squires applauded loudly.
Crestin smiled. "Nothing to be amazed at, Squires. Just run-of-the-mill fireworks that any sorcerer worth his salt could produce." Unconvinced by Crestin's humble words, the Squires begged for more.
"Well," said Crestin. "It appears that I have time for a bit more entertainment. Let's see now...who can I make disappear? Feager Stoutheart? Gorain Gloryfinder? Zender Knightsblood? Let me think about this.... "
Before he got a chance to perform any more tricks, the tower's front door opened and in walked Taris and Furlus. Apparently they were arguing about something, as a few last insults were exchanged.
"And I won't see it done," growled Furlus, "because I've had enough of your idiotic ideas. And that's the end of it!"
"So then we're late for nothing," Taris grumbled back. "And in this case, I refuse to take the blame. Now be quiet and try to act respectable."
They spoke in low voices, but not low enough--as everyone in the Hall could hear what was said. Some of the Green Knights scowled with displeasure. Crestin Lightwielder struggled to contain his laughter.
Furlus straightened his armor and grinned, nodding. Taris bowed. Politely, the Green Knights rose and nodded back. The Tower Masters sat down, and the feast began. Orange Squires brought platters of food from the kitchen, and soon the tables were covered in them. Once Lannon caught scent of the food, his anxiety vanished and he ate heartily the juicy meats, soups, vegetables, puddings, and breads--all the while wondering if they would always feast this well. He washed it down with a mug of milk and then sat back, his belly hurting from too much food, which certainly was not the best way to head into the Color Trials.
After the meal, the two Tower Masters walked to the stone fireplace and stood with their backs to it. They greatly contrasted each other--one being tall, lean, and cloaked in shadow and the other being short, bearded, and enormously stocky. Furlus cleared his throat, then turned and whispered something to Taris. The sorcerer shook his head and motioned towards the Squires.
"Uh...hello, good Squires," Furlus said loudly, clearing his throat. "First let me say that you're a fine looking bunch and I hope you do well. Now to get right to the point, the Color Trials are made of five tests--the Blackstone, the Wall of Fire, the Wood, the Flaming Blade, and the Toadstool. I shall oversee the Blackstone, and Taris shall stage the Wall of Fire and the Flaming Blade. Vesselin Hopebringer, Lord of the White Knights, shall stage the Toadstool, and Carn Pureheart, Lord of the Blue Knights, shall stage the Wood."
"Remember," Taris said, "these tests alone will determine your class of Knight. Also bear in mind that sometimes success in a Trial is judged by effort and attitude. But regardless, just give everything you have and be satisfied with the results. These Color Trials are centuries old and have been perfected so there is little margin for error. We can determine precisely what class of Knight you should be, if any. You were chosen as Squires either because of Knightly Essence or natural talent, and in order to be picked for a class other than Orange, you must participate in each of the Trials. Boys and girls, weak and strong--there are no exceptions. When all is said and done, just accept your fate graciously and count your blessings. And may the Divine Essence warm you all. Now, if you'll follow us in an orderly fashion, we can get this task underway."
***
The Trial Grounds consisted of a round pavilion in a clearing behind the tower. The pavilion had a peaked roof, with a black and silver flag standing atop it that bore the Crest of Dremlock. Eight pillars held up that roof, and in between the pillars were rows of seats for spectators, except for one open space that marked the entrance. Most of the High Council was present. Cordus Landsaver sat with the Council members, cloaked in silver and sipping at a huge mug of something, with an Orange servant at his side. Three Brown Knights were also there, including Cartlan, along with several Orange Squires who stood ready to serve. Yet many of the seats were empty, adding to the eerie feeling that Dremlock Kingdom was practically deserted.
It was a bright and warm summer day, yet a strange feeling lurked in the air. The Knights' f
aces were tense and humorless. It was not the festive scene Lannon had always imagined, to say the least. It was quiet, rigid, and hurried. The Squires were brought close to the pavilion's edge, at the entrance, but were not allowed to go up the steps. They were expected to wait on the ground--sixty-three Squires in all--until called upon to enter. The two Tower Masters stood off to one side in the pavilion, conversing with each other, while two Orange Squires carried forth a large black rock and a pair of silver gauntlets and laid them near the center of the floor.
Furlus stepped to edge of the pavilion, looking down upon the Squires, and spoke. "You will be called upon one by one. You must try to lift the Blackstone off the floor. If you fail on your first attempt, you will be allowed to use the silver gauntlets, which possess magic that can increase your strength. Once you've made your second attempt, for better or worse, you must leave the pavilion and another Squire will be summoned to take your place."
The Blackstone was a small boulder with an iron ring embedded in it. It looked far too heavy for Lannon to budge.
The first lad called into action--a skinny one named Nathan Peacefinder--failed to lift the Blackstone on both attempts, and he left the Pavilion shaking his head in defeat. Using the silver gauntlets, the second Squire chosen managed to lift it about an inch before dropping it back to the floor. Results varied from there, with Vorden Flameblade doing the best of all. He managed to move the rock without the gauntlets (something no one else could do), and with them he was able to lift it up to his waist, where he held it for several moments before slowly setting it back down.
When Lannon's turn came, he struggled to stop the trembling in his limbs as he hurried up onto the platform. He walked over to the Blackstone, avoiding the Knights' gazes, feeling the other Squires' eyes upon him. He grasped the iron ring and pulled until his arms felt like they might stretch, but the weight remained stationary. With shaking hands, he slid on the silver gauntlets, which were too big for him, and he tried again to lift the dreaded Blackstone. He pulled furiously, hoping the power within the gauntlets would be enough. But the rock did not rise or even move. He wondered if the gauntlets actually possessed any magic at all.
Timlin, the scrawny lad from Kalamede who was still pale and scared-looking, did even worse than Lannon in a way. He displayed little effort as he made his attempts, as if he expected to fail. He kept shaking his head and shrugging helplessly, which made Lannon cringe yet took some of the sting out of his own defeat.
Now that the first Trial was done, Taris stepped forward and spoke. "During this next test, an illusionary ring of flames shall appear around a Squire. An hourglass will be turned, and the Squire has until the sands run out to pass through the flames. Once the sands run out, the illusion will have run its course."
When all the Squires had completed this test, Vorden again proved himself among the best, leaping forward courageously through the imaginary flames the moment the hourglass was turned. (None of the spectators could see the flames, since Taris placed the illusion--by touching his subject's forehead--only in the mind of the Squire being tested.) During Lannon's turn, he took several moments to summon enough will to throw himself through the searing wall of heat that threatened to burn him to ash, and by the time he made his escape, the hourglass had actually run out and the fire was vanishing from his sight. Timlin did the worst of all sixty-three Squires, however, for he huddled on the pavilion floor until time ran out completely, making no effort whatsoever.
The blue-cloaked Knight with the bald head and stern gaze came forward. "I am Carn Pureheart," he said, "of the Blue Knights. This next Trial is a simple one, Squires. There are no so-called magic items to aid you, and no sorcerer's tricks to fool your minds. You must break a wooden plank with the flat of your hand. You get one try at it, so focus long and hard before striking the blow. I will demonstrate the correct form."
Two Orange Squires held a thick plank. Carn studied it for a moment, and then slowly imitated the blow he would strike. He demonstrated a few times before breaking the plank with ease. "That's all there is to it."
Most of the Squires failed this test. The only two boys able to break the wood completely were Vorden and, amazingly, Timlin. Vorden gave only a slight smile after his victory, as if he had expected this result all along, but Timlin practically danced for joy as he left the pavilion.
When Lannon's turn came, Vorden whispered in his ear. "Take your time and focus. Then just relax and let go with all your might."
Lannon did as Vorden suggested, relaxing himself before unleashing the blow. He managed to crack the plank, hurting his hand in the process, but it did not break. He tried to hit it again but the Orange Squires tossed it aside. "Only one hit is allowed!" they cried.
Now the White Knight named Vesselin Hopebringer came forward. He was the ancient-looking man that had attended the feast in the Great Hall. An Orange servant brought him a pillow upon which lay a fat toadstool. His hands trembled as he held the pillow. "All I ask of you, Squires," he said in a shaky voice, "is to come forth one by one and touch the fungus until I tell you to take your hands away."
This Trial ran on for over two hours, as the Squires had to stand and touch the toadstool until Vesselin signaled them to stop, which sometimes took several minutes. And if the toadstool turned color, Vesselin would wait a few moments until it changed back again before the next Squire could proceed. Only four Squires passed this test, making the toadstool turn dark green beneath their touch.
As the shadows of afternoon grew long around the pavilion, and torches were lit, Taris made a dagger burn with blue flames. Each Squire had to grab the blade and try to banish the flames--which Taris insisted would not harm them--just by willing them to disappear. Several of the Squires passed this test, some more easily than others. A couple of Squires, including Timlin, were too afraid to even lay hands upon the fiery dagger. Lannon and Vorden were among these who courageously grabbed the dull blade but failed to banish the flames. The Squire who fared best at this was a Birlote girl named Aldreya Silverhawk, who banished the flames instantly.
Lannon was distraught. He had passed nothing, as far as he knew, and this might prove to Cordus that he lacked the Eye of Divinity after all (whatever that was). He might then be chosen Orange, and never be a Knight.
Now that the Color Trials had ended, Cordus came down from the seats and stood before the Squires. "You have all fared well," he said. "It is not our goal to keep you in suspense of the outcome, or cause speculation amongst you. And so before dinner you all shall receive your Color Sashes, and be sent to your appropriate towers to begin your training. Now go back to the West Tower and seat yourselves in the Hall."
***
The fireplace was ablaze in the Armory Hall. Lannon, Vorden, and a few other Squires sat at one table. Five wooden boxes stood near the fireplace. The Green Knights were back at their fancy table, joined by Cordus, Furlus, Taris, Vesselin, and Carn. Cartlan and two other Brown Knights sat at a table, while Orange Squires stood nearby. Crestin Lightwielder sang a gloomy song called The Battle of Old Keep.
The Knights talked quietly amongst themselves, and glanced through books and papers. Finally Cordus rose and stood facing the Squires. The Lord Knight regarded the Squires solemnly, making them squirm. The torchlight and shadows danced about the room, highlighting the glorious paintings on the walls. Cordus stood in the shadow of Kuran Darkender's huge portrait, and his silver cloak had been replaced by his gleaming breastplate and broadsword. His blue eyes seemed to burn like the Birlote torches that lit the chamber. The Squires sat in silent, humbled awe--unable to gaze directly into his eyes, yet unable to look away.
"The time has come," Cordus said. "Remember to accept your fate graciously, and bear in mind that no class is permanent--save for Orange--and that one can always be promoted. Now let us begin. I now call upon Clayith Ironback from Gravendar. Come forth and receive your Color!"
One by one, the new Squires of Dremlock approached and were given a sash from the boxe
s. The sashes were narrow and bore golden trim to set them apart from the Knightly ones. The Squires showed mixed emotions as they were handed their Colors, with one boy shedding tears over an Orange sash and another leaping for joy over a rare Red one. When Vorden's turn came, he strode confidently up to the podium. He had, after all, easily passed three of the five tests and had clearly done the best of all the Squires. The look on his face said he expected no less than Red, but strangely enough he was presented with Blue. He stared at it like it was a thing from another realm. Then he bowed and hurried from the podium, his face troubled.
When Lannon's turn came, Cordus regarded him with a twinkle in his eye. "And for you, Lannon Sunshield, I give the Blue."
Lannon took the sash gratefully and bowed. He had no idea what it meant, but at least it wasn't Orange. He hurried back to where Vorden sat, eager to hear the lad's opinion on the matter.
Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity Page 9
