Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity

by Robert E. Keller

  Timlin was one of the last to be called upon, and the defeated look on his face said he was expecting Orange all the way. Yet he was wrong.

  "To you, Timlin Woodmaster," said Cordus, "I present Blue." With a smile, Cordus held out the sash.

  His mouth hanging open in disbelief, Timlin snatched the sash from Cordus, bowed shakily, and hurried away--as if he feared the Lord Knight might change his mind and give him the wretched Orange instead.

  Now that the Colors had been handed out, the celebration feast began. The tables were laden with all manner of roasts, vegetables, breads, cakes, and puddings. Timlin joined Lannon and Vorden at their table.

  "I can't believe I got Blue!" Timlin said, picking at a heap of food on his plate that was far bigger than he could handle.

  Vorden sighed. "Do we even know what this means, Timlin? We were the only three picked for this Color. Why is that?"

  Timlin shrugged. "Maybe we're special somehow. You did better than anyone else, and Lannon...well, he did okay."

  "And what about you?" Vorden said, raising his eyebrows.

  "I don't know," Timlin said, and for a moment he looked uncertain. Then he said excitedly, "I broke that board! Only you and I managed to do that. Maybe that Blue Knight, Carn Pureheart, saw something special in me."

  "Obviously someone did," said Vorden. "And that's what I'm worried about. Nobody really knows what Blue is good for. They keep to themselves and won't say a word about their doings. A few days ago, I managed to get one of the older Blue Squires talking about Dremlock, and he spoke freely about anything except his Color class. It just seems like I gave my all in the Trials and that I deserved Red."

  "Maybe you'll get it later," said Timlin.

  "We'll see," said Vorden, with a shrug. "So what about you, Lannon?"

  "I'm just happy I wasn't picked Orange," said Lannon. "I actually failed all the Trials."

  "But you did okay in some of them," Vorden said. "And you managed to crack the board--which was more than most of the Squires could do."

  "I still can't believe I broke it!" said Timlin.

  "That was amazing," Vorden admitted. "I mean, for someone as small as you. It took all my strength to break that plank, and I hurt my wrist. It still aches." Vorden rubbed his wrist, as if to emphasize his point.

  "My wrist is fine," said Timlin. "I feel great."

  "You both did better than me," said Lannon.

  "None of us are Knights yet," said Vorden. "And we may never be more than Squires. That will depend on how hard we work." He smoothed his black hair from his forehead and smiled. "But I guess I don't feel so bad, really. I'm sure the Knights wouldn't waste my skills on something stupid."

  "I'm just happy I got picked for Blue!" Timlin said enthusiastically.

  Vorden chuckled. "If you're happy, Timlin, I guess that's good."

  Timlin nodded, picking at his mountain of food. (Vorden had already cleaned one plate and started on another, while Lannon was halfway through his.)

  "Looks like we'll be training together," said Vorden. "At least for a while. Until I get what I deserve."

  After dinner, Cordus Landsaver got up and spoke. "I have a task for you, Squires. Rub water upon your sashes, and watch closely."

  Hurriedly the Squires plunged their hands into glasses and pitchers of water and rubbed it on their sashes. Like the others, Lannon watched in fascination as silver letters appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

  Lannon Sunshield

  Divine Squire of Dremlock Kingdom

  1217 Year of the Wolf

  Chapter 6: The Tower of Sorcery

  Now that the Squires had received their sashes, they were organized into groups based on their Colors. The Orange (there were fourteen of these unhappy youths) were sent to Cordus' tower. The Brown and Red remained, for now, in the West Tower, while the White were sent to a place called the Hall of Healing. Lannon, Vorden, and Timlin--the only Blue of the entire lot--were to reside in the East Tower, along with twelve Grey.

  The Grey were taken to the North Tower on secret business--undoubtedly concerning their sorcery training--and Cartlan was chosen to guide the Blue Squires to their new home. He grinned at them, shaking his head. "Come on my merry lads. Into the Blue unknown we go." He chuckled, as if finding himself quite clever.

  The three Squires gathered their things and followed. As they stepped out into the courtyard, Cartlan lit a torch, though pale light shone down from a full moon. Crickets chirped amid the grass and flowers, and wolves howled in the woods.

  "Do you hear that?" said Cartlan. "We have wolves in Knightwood--huge white beasts. There are many rumors about them. Some even believe they're pets kept by sorcerers like Taris Warhawk. They only come out during the night hours. In the daytime they sleep in caves in the mountainside. At least that's what most folks around here believe."

  "Have you ever explored the caves?" said Lannon.

  Cartlan's eyes widened. "I'm not an idiot, Lannon, even if you are. I wouldn't go poking around in wolf lairs. Besides, the caves are forbidden to us." Suddenly, he pointed skyward. "Look at that."

  A winged shadow soared overhead, blocking out the moonlight for an instant. The Squires caught sight of silvery feathers and huge wings.

  "An Elder Hawk just passed over," said Cartlan. "Those things are big, and like the White Wolves are kept by some here as pets--according to rumor."

  As they passed from the courtyard and entered the forest, only Cartlan's torch fire was left to guide them, for very little moonlight could penetrate between the Knightwood bows. Animal noises came from the woods all around, and at one point a heavy body was heard rustling through the underbrush next to the trail, before moving away. A wolf howl arose close by, causing all of them to jump and Timlin to let out a squeal. Cartlan's face had gone pale, which startled Lannon and the others. Seeing a Knight bear such a fearful expression did not fill them with confidence, to say the least.

  "I don't usually wander the woods at night," said Cartlan. "Typically everyone is indoors by now, unless there's an outside feast or something."

  Suddenly a figure stepped into the torchlight, causing Cartlan to jump and reach for his sword. But it turned out to be the green-cloaked Investigator, Trenton Shadowbane. His grey eyes were shiny and strange in the flickering light. He appeared to be unarmed.

  "Hello, Cartlan," he said quietly.

  Cartlan recovered his composure and bowed. "Greetings, Trenton. Just out for a walk tonight, now that the Trials are over?"

  "Just out minding my own business," Trenton said coldly. "As you should be minding yours." He sighed deeply. "Very well, if you must know, sometimes I grow weary of the constant shifting of papers, the grinding of stone against flesh and senses. It is during these times that I seek solace in the embrace of the night."

  "Of course," Cartlan said, glancing around nervously in an effort to avoid the Investigator's icy gaze. "I'm just taking these Squires to the East Tower."

  "Mind the wolves, son," said Trenton, and the gleam in his eye grew brighter. "Knightwood knows nothing of the mortal flesh and its yearnings. To be brutally honest, the woods might swallow a man whole and not shed a tear."

  Cartlan gulped. "I'll be careful."

  Trenton adjusted his cloak. "I must be moving on now. Stay on the path, lads, and make no trouble."

  Cartlan bowed again. "We wouldn't dream of it."

  Trenton nodded. Then he fixed his gaze on Lannon. "You really must think you're something special," he whispered.

  "Huh?" said Lannon, not knowing what to say. The Investigator's piercing grey eyes sent goose bumps scampering all over his flesh.

  "You heard me!" snapped Trenton. "My eyes are on you, Lannon. I know your heart, child, and if things start turning out badly, you'll pay dearly."

  With that, Trenton strode on past them and was swallowed up by the shadows. A moment later another wolf howl arose, this one louder and closer--coming from the direction the Investigator had gone. It was followed by a crash as so
mething big leapt away through the forest.

  Cartlan and the Squires hurried away without looking back.

  When they got a little further down the path, Cartlan wiped sweat from his brow. "That was really strange," he muttered. "That man is...well, what can I say? He's somewhat different. There are rumors about him."

  "He seemed crazy to me," said Vorden. "What did he say about the woods?"

  Cartlan shook his head. "Just forget what you saw and heard, Vorden. You'll be far better off for it. Remember, you're just a lowly Squire."

  "I won't mention it to anyone," said Vorden. "But I won't forget it, either."

  Lannon said nothing, still feeling the effects of Trenton's chilling stare. He couldn't fathom why the Investigator had singled him out--unless it had something to do with the Eye of Divinity. But why would that cause Trenton to be angry with him? Wasn't the Eye of Divinity supposed to be helpful to Dremlock somehow?

  They came to where the road split into three, and they took the East Path. The land sloped downward some, and boulders began appearing amongst the trees. The pine trunks were gnarled and split, their roots clustered thick along the trail, and their boughs hung low like huge furry hands descending upon the travelers.

  "This part of Knightwood has the most ancient feel to it," said Cartlan. "Ruins of Olrog dwellings stand here in the woods. Taris' tower is older than Furlus' keep, and it was built on some of those ruins, including the remains of the fortress built by Kuran Darkender before Dremlock existed as we know it today. Rumor has it that there are catacombs beneath the Old Keep, as the fortress is called--Olrog tombs filled with traps and riches, and even darker places that have been closed off with bars made of indestructible Glaetherin so that nothing can creep forth and enter the tower. But actually, who knows?"

  "What do you know about the Blue Knights?" asked Vorden.

  At first Cartlan looked irritated that Vorden had changed the subject, but then he stopped walking and stood in a silence for a moment. Then he sighed loudly. "I don't want to worry you or anything, but the few things I've heard about them were not very pleasant--to say the least!"

  "What things?" Timlin asked fearfully, pressing close to Lannon and Vorden. The lad was shaking in his boots, his gaze darting this way and that into the surrounding shadows.

  Cartlan turned and smirked, his cockiness and attitude of superiority resurfacing. "Very odd things, Squires. You'd probably rather not hear of them at this point. You'll find out for yourself soon enough."

  "Fine by me," said Vorden, refusing to be drawn in.

  "I'd like to know," said Lannon, wishing he were as strong-willed as Vorden.

  "Tell us!" Timlin begged. "We should be warned."

  Cartlan shrugged. "Very well, if you must know. I hear that they're actually assassins. They're throat cutters and backstabbers and spies. They sneak around in the shadows and kill people when they're sleeping."

  Vorden shook his head in disbelief. "No way, Cartlan. The Divine Knights would never accept a class like that."

  Cartlan laughed. "Think what you must, Vorden. But with the Blood Legion and all, and the recent troubles with smart Goblins, spies and assassins are badly needed. And Blue Knights aren't real Knights. They're just, well, assassins. Their Books never get put in the Round Library. No Lord Knight has ever been a part of that color class. Actually, I don't think any Greens have, either. I think Blue Knights always stay that color."

  "What?" said Vorden, his mouth hanging open. "You mean a Blue Knight can't get promoted? So I could never be Red, or Green, or a Lord Knight?" Vorden's body was shaking, so distraught was he all of a sudden.

  Cartlan nodded. "From what I know, yes. Look at Carn Pureheart, the Lord of the Blue Knights. He was never made Green."

  "I can't believe this!" said Vorden. "But I've worked so... No, I just can't believe it. You've got to be joking with me, Cartlan."

  "Not at all," said Cartlan. "But calm down. I'm just telling of rumors. I suggest you relax and see for yourself before you get angry."

  "I won't stab someone in the back," Vorden muttered. "That's not why I wanted to be a Knight."

  Cartlan raised his hands helplessly. "You still get to train with the other new Squires every day. It's just that you'll receive your special training also--the training nobody talks about much because it's an embarrassment to Dremlock."

  Lannon wished he could shut Cartlan up, and somehow permanently remove that smirk. Cartlan was probably just trying to get to them, and he was doing an exceptionally good job with Vorden--which irritated Lannon all the more because in the short time Lannon had known Vorden, he already seemed like a friend. And Lannon had never had a true friend near his own age.

  Timlin just trotted along looking mystified yet hopeful, his hands in his cloak pockets. Once in a while he'd look at Lannon or Vorden, give a shrug, and then shake his head--as if the whole matter were beyond his comprehension.

  Vorden mumbled quiet words now and then, his hands knotting into fists, while Cartlan strode ahead, whistling a merry tune.

  ***

  Taris' tower looked much the same as the West Tower in size and shape, yet it seemed a bit taller and had a small river running through its courtyard. Crumbling boulders stood here and there, and the ground was sloped in a shallow valley of mossy stones. No flowers or carefully trimmed hedges existed here--just a natural landscape that needed no maintenance. The Knightwood pines grew close to the tower, their roots arching up from the ground in thick tangles. A stone bridge, webbed with vines, spanned the river.

  An ancient scent arose from the soil here that reminded Lannon of Knights Valley, and for a moment he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, imagining he was back home. Oddly enough, the front door was not guarded.

  "Where are the guards?" Lannon asked.

  "The East Tower needs no guards," said Cartlan. "This is the Tower of Sorcery. It's protected by magic, and people are allowed to come and go as they please. Still, you can bet that even now we're being watched."

  The Squires glanced up along the tower wall, their gaze passing over balconies and windows--some lit by lantern and torchlight--all the way up to the tapering peak. They shivered, their hearts pounding harder. This tower, for whatever reason, seemed somehow dark, sinister, and very ancient. Perhaps the feeling lurked in the mossy landscape and the vine-covered stone blocks at the tower's base, or perhaps it lurked in something else that only their subconscious minds could grasp. Regardless, as they gazed up at the moonlit keep, they were chilled to the bone.

  "Don't stop now," said Cartlan gleefully. "This is your new home."

  After exchanging nervous glances, they followed Cartlan to the front door, which bore a leering, demonic face forged of silver at the center. He grasped the door handle and pulled it partly open.

  "Well, there you go," he said. "Good luck."

  "What?" said Timlin. "You're just going to leave us here?"

  Cartlan shrugged. "I was told to bring you here. I've done that, so my task is finished. I've got to get going now." Cartlan glanced nervously at the forest. "Of course I could wait a bit, I suppose. No, I better get going."

  "Come on," said Vorden, pulling at Timlin and Lannon. "We'll be okay."

  Reluctantly, the two boys followed Vorden into the keep. Cartlan slammed the door shut behind them and they were alone. Or so it appeared, anyway.

  They stood in a round chamber with six oaken doors. Four of the doors were unlabeled, and one was marked Old Keep and one Dining Hall. A stone stairway led upwards and another led downwards. Five Birlote torches glowed here, yet the shining red gems were not enough to keep much of the chamber from being deep with shadow. The stairs rose and descended into darkness.

  "Okay, what now?" said Vorden.

  "Maybe we should wait," said Timlin.

  "I'm with Timlin on this," said Lannon. "Let's wait for Taris, or somebody, to show us where to go. I don't want to get lost in this tower."

  "I guess we wait, then," said Vorden, shruggin
g.

  Not long afterwards, the door opened and a boy appeared. It was a Blue Squire named Fern Fairblade. Four silver ribbons had been stitched to one end of his sash. He was slight of build, with curly black hair and pale skin. He smiled at them.

  "Hello," said Vorden. "You might be able to help us. We're looking for the Blue Knights." He pointed to his own sash.

  "I'm afraid I can't help you," Fern said politely, squinting to read the name on Vorden's sash. "I'm just a Squire like you, Vorden, after all. And I'm late for bed. Goodnight!" He hurried up the stairs.

  Vorden shook his head. "Some help he was."