Vorden's face burned red with embarrassment. "I was just trying to cover everything, Jerret. It doesn't hurt to be cautious."
"Sure," said Jerret. "So are we in, or not?"
"One more question," said Vorden. "The West Tower has door guards. How'd you get past them?"
Jerret chuckled. "We never went back after training. We've been hiding out in the woods all evening, freezing our skin off."
Vorden sighed. "This doesn't look good, Jerret."
"We took a risk," said Jerret, "and we're probably going to be in trouble. But that's our problem, not yours. So at least make it worth our while."
"Yeah," said Clayith. "Make it worth our while, Vorden."
Vorden fell silent for a time. Then he said, "Alright, we'll do it--but only if Lannon and Timlin agree. I'm not their boss or anything."
"I want to go," said Timlin. "I don't care what happened last time. This time it's going to be better. We're going to see the Divine Essence!"
"Let's just get going," said Lannon. He pulled his weapons and armor from beneath his bed and started putting them on.
"I guess it's decided then," said Vorden, nodding with approval at Lannon. "Looks like you're leading this adventure."
Lannon shrugged. "I don't care who leads. I just have to see the Divine Essence, and I'm not turning back until I do."
Clayith was staring intently at Lannon. He smiled, and Lannon thought Clayith looked like a bird of prey, with his hooknose and pointy chin. Clayith was the largest and strongest of all the Squires. But accompanying that physical strength was a gentleness that ran as deep as any Lannon had ever seen. Clayith saved drowning moths from water pools, and he defended any small creatures (even bugs) the other Squires sought to maim or squash. He always spoke in a soft voice, and never seemed to think very highly of himself but always gave praise to others.
Lannon had often wondered how, when the time came, Clayith would be able to kill. For wasn't that what Knights always did--kill Goblins? What were the Knights thinking when they chose Clayith Ironback, who would not hurt a bee that stung him? Had they somehow missed seeing that huge part of his personality, or had Clayith disguised it from them?
"Just tell me what to do, Lannon," said Clayith.
Lannon laughed, and marveled at his own progress. Less than a year before he had been an isolated lad with no friends. Now he had someone looking up to him, thinking of him as a leader.
"That's okay, Clayith," he said. "I'm not actually in charge here."
"A skull-and-bones formation, then," Clayith said, chuckling.
"Huh?" said Lannon.
Clayith frowned. "Its...leaderless. That's what I meant. A dead unit, so to speak." Clayith shook his head, as if to clear it. "I don't care!" he muttered, half under his breath, and then turned away.
"Are you okay?" said Lannon.
Clayith turned back, smiling in his kindly way. "I'm sorry, Lannon. Sometimes my thoughts get mixed up. Its...the dark."
"The dark?" said Lannon.
Clayith cleared his throat. "I mean--that's what I call it when I blank out."
"Clayith's crazy," said Jerret, with a laugh. "He talks to himself sometimes, like an old man. Don't worry about it, Lannon. He's totally harmless."
Lannon nodded, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "It's alright. I don't mind if you do that, Clayith."
Clayith's mouth formed the words dead unit one more time, and then he clamped his lips together for a moment, before adding, "I'm watching your back, Lannon. Let's go!"
"What's our plan?" said Jerret.
Vorden thought for a moment. Then he looked to Lannon and said, "It's your call this time. What should we do?"
Lannon hesitated, thinking carefully. He tried hard to come up with something brilliant, while the others fidgeted impatiently, but at last he gave up and settled for something simple. "We should split up, at first," he said. "Jerret and Clayith can go on to the Temple and wait for us. Then, after a bit, we'll follow them. Once we're all at the Temple, Timlin can sneak in and check the place over. If it's clear, we'll all go in and...I guess just go on from there together."
"Why split up at first?" said Jerret, with a look of distrust.
"We won't get in as much trouble if we're caught," said Lannon. "It would look very suspicious if Blue and Red Squires were all sneaking around in one group. And our best chance to be seen is when we're journeying to the Temple."
Jerret nodded. "I guess that's true."
"Good plan," Vorden said. "But what about Aldreya?"
"She's in the Library," said Jerret. "We saw her on the way up. Should we have her go with us, or should we just forget about her?"
"She can go with us," said Vorden.
"She's pretty," said Jerret, smiling. "She can go with me and Clayith."
"She's from the East Tower," said Vorden, giving him a hard stare. "If you two got caught with her, the Knights would know something's up."
"Is that your real reason?" said Jerret. "Or are you afraid I'll ruin your chance to get close to her?"
Vorden's face was stony. "What are you talking about, Jerret? Have you ever heard of the Sacred Laws?"
"Sure," said Jerret. "But they don't mean much, apparently. We're going to be breaking them anyways."
"Show some manners," Vorden said coldly, straightening his clothes. "I have no interest in Aldreya other than...for the sake of this mission, I guess."
"You're a tough one to figure out, Vorden," said Jerret, "Sometimes you seem cut from rough cloth, and other times you seem like some well-to-do snob with your neat hair and talk of manners. I can’t understand you."
"Why?" said Vorden. "Because I believe in what Dremlock stands for, even if I'm forced to break the Sacred Laws when I know it's the right thing to do? I just don't like what you're hinting at."
"Fine," said Jerret, with a shrug. "I guess I won't mention it again." Then he mumbled, "I must have touched a sore spot or something."
Vorden glared, his hands knotted into fists.
"Anyways," said Lannon, in an effort to change the subject before the situation turned ugly, "I just hope the hidden passage to the Divine Essence isn't guarded by those Dark Knights like that Garndon fellow."
"Dark Knights?" said Jerret, with wide eyes.
Clayith stepped forward, staring at Lannon with an odd, troubled expression--as if Lannon had said something confusing or appalling.
"Don't say such things!" Clayith hissed.
"Never mind," said Lannon, feeling his body recoil. Something about Clayith's expression, or way of standing, made Lannon feel almost physically ill. Did Clayith hold some hidden, important knowledge?
"I guess I wasn't supposed to mention that," Lannon added. "So forget I said anything about Dark--"
"Quiet!" Clayith put his finger to his lips.
"You're better off not knowing," said Timlin to Jerret, with a giggle. "That's our secret. Right, Lannon? Right, Vorden?"
"Not anymore," said Vorden, sighing.
After Jerret and Clayith left, the Blue Squires sat around for a while talking things over. The wind howled fiercely outside the tower, and now and then puffs of glittering snow would blow in from beneath the window shutters. They agreed that the Red Squires seemed trustworthy--though all three boys noted that Clayith seemed to be acting a bit strangely. But Clayith always had been somewhat quiet, and they reasoned that this was probably just a side to him they had never seen before. He was, after all, the kindest Squire any of them knew.
At last they crept from their chamber and headed downstairs. They went down two floors and then encountered a Red Squire--his sash well decorated with gold ribbons--standing outside his quarters in the hallway. He was an Olrog, about eighteen years old, and already his beard was as wide as his chest. They had seen this Squire before many times, but didn't know his name. (They barely knew any of the older Squires in the East Tower, though they had lived so near to them for almost a year.) He regarded them with suspicion in his grey eyes.
"What are you boys up to?" he said. "Shouldn't you be in bed? If Taris catches you wandering about it will spell bad business for you."
"We heard a noise outside the tower," Vorden said quickly. "It sounded like a crash or something."
"You sure it wasn't ice breaking off from the ledges?" said the Grey Dwarf. "I hear that a lot. Sometimes it wakes me up in the night."
"Could have been," said Vorden, "now that you mention it. Why didn't we think of that? Well, I guess we'll get back to sleep."
"Alright," the Olrog said. "Just watch yourselves. I don't know what you're up to, but Taris knows everything that goes on in this tower. Nothing escapes his eye. He has spies that lurk in the shadows. You can't see them, but they can see you. They're always watching. He won't always act right away, either, if he catches you breaking the rules. Sometimes he’ll wait for a while and see what you're up to. He knows you're down here, Squires. Make no mistake about that!"
"Then I guess we better hurry back to bed," said Vorden. With that, he started back towards the stairs. The others followed.
Glancing back, they saw the Olrog enter his quarters and close the door. Vorden stopped them with a motion of his hand.
"It's okay," he said. "He's gone to bed."
"I wonder what he was up to," said Lannon.
"I'm also wondering that," said Vorden. "He questioned us, but maybe we should have questioned him. Of course, he was well decorated--almost a Knight by the looks of him. I guess we handled it well."
"His hands were dirty," said Timlin.
The other two stared at him for a moment.
"What do you mean?" said Vorden.
"Black dirt," said Timlin. "Like he'd been digging. It was under his nails. And his weapon was missing. He was wearing his sheath, but no sword. Oh, and one of his boots didn't match the other one--it was old and cracked and didn't have any laces. And the name on his sash was Golath Stonesplitter."
"You noticed all that?" said Vorden.
Timlin smiled, nodding. "I just looked him over the way we were trained to. Remember how Master Garrin said never to ignore anyone's appearance, to always study them carefully?"
Vorden nodded. "You make a good Blue, Timlin. Well, let's get moving. That Squire was obviously up to no good. He won't tell on us. I think he was just hoping we wouldn't tell on him."
"Right," said Lannon. "But do you think it's true what he said about Taris knowing all that goes on here?"
"If it was," said Vorden, "do you think that Golath fellow would have been out sneaking around? I don't think so. He just told us that to scare us, so we'd forget to question what he was doing running around with dirty hands and a missing boot. I think that if Taris knew what we were doing, he'd stop us."
As Vorden spoke those words, deep feelings of guilt swelled within Lannon. He remembered Taris' kindness during their journey to Dremlock. He thought of his father. What would the old man think of this? This was not Knightly behavior. But then he remembered his dream and his fears returned, along with his overwhelming need to visit the Divine Essence. Shutting his guilt away, he started back down the hallway with the others.
They made it to the library without encountering anyone else. Yet Aldreya was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe she went with the other two," whispered Vorden, and the look in his dark eyes said he wasn't happy about that.
"I guess we should just keep going," said Lannon. "We can't afford to go looking about the tower for her. It's too risky."
They continued down to the first floor. Lannon (again having to swallow his guilt) swiped a Birlote torch from the wall, which--because it generated only light and no heat--he hid under his cloak. As they started towards the door, a form materialized out of the shadows.
The Squires' hearts lurched, and Timlin nearly cried out, clamping his hand over his mouth at the last instant.
"Leaving without me?" said Aldreya, her green eyes twinkling.
"We wouldn't dream of it," said Vorden, smiling.
When they stepped outside, the snows were blowing fiercely. The night sky was black with storm clouds, and the wind howled down the mountainside, chilling the Squires to the bone. The snow was drifting up around the tower.
"Great!" said Lannon, practically yelling to be heard over the wind. "I can't see a thing in this storm. I'm going to have to use the torch. I just hope no one's out and about tonight."
"Not likely," said Vorden. "Who'd be out in this? Except us and those other two fools, that is."
Vorden's words did not inspire confidence in Lannon.
The torch provided enough glow to see a few feet around them, but it was hardly adequate. As they headed towards the forest, they struggled to stay on the path, which was swiftly disappearing beneath the snows.
"What about Jerret and Clayith?" said Vorden. "You think they could find their way to the Temple in this blizzard? Did they even have a torch?"
"Who knows?" said Lannon. "If they're not at the Temple, I guess we go on without them. We can't wait all night."
Aldreya pressed her hand against her forehead, struggling to keep her silver curls from getting in her eyes. "I don't know about this," she said. "Maybe we should try this some other time."
No one replied, and as they entered the forest, the wind continued to whip snow into their faces, with the Knightwood trees offering only a little protection against its wrath. The treetops swayed back and forth, creaking giants. They paused behind one of the cabin-sized tree trunks to get out of the wind and driving snow for a moment and catch their breath, brushing melting flakes from their faces.
"I've never seen it this bad!" Vorden said.
The others could only shake their heads, and they started moving again. At some point, they strayed from the trail and didn't realize it, as the snow had become too thick. Suddenly they were wandering randomly through the Knightwood pines, going in circles for all they knew, until at last they came up against an iron fence.
"What is this?" said Lannon. "Where in the world are we?"
Vorden shook his head disgustedly. "This could be the Cemetery fence. If it is, we have to find the main trail, which is somewhere by this fence, and follow it straight to the Temple."
"It's no good," said Lannon. "We can't see anything, Vorden. We can't stick to any trail. We need to try to get back to the tower, before they find out we're missing. What do you think, Timlin?"
Timlin wiped snow from his eyes. "I can't see where to go. I'm sorry." The lad hung his head, as if he expected the others to be upset with him.
"I can't do anything, either," said Aldreya. She took out her stone dagger and made it burn with green fire, but its light was too small to make any difference in the raging snowstorm. She put it away again. "See, it's no use."
Lannon struggled hard to think. All he could see was the dark and the swirling snow. Yet he could feel the Divine Essence calling to him.
"I can use the Eye," he said, suddenly inspired. His words were smashed apart by the howling wind.
"What did you say?" said Vorden.
"The Eye!" Lannon yelled. "Help me unlock it."
Aldreya leaned close to him. "What is the Eye, Lannon? I still have no idea what you're talking about! Taris has never taught me any sorcery like that, and when I asked him about it, he smiled and said I shouldn't concern myself with it. So I really don't know..." Her words slipped away in the storm.
The two Squires flanked Lannon, and spoke their opposing words directly into his ears while tapping his shoulders. It took many tries this time, for the storm was distracting to Lannon. But at last, when he began to doubt it was going to work, his mind suddenly split, and the power surged forth.
The Eye of Divinity reached into the storm, and Lannon could feel a strange and hidden strength there. He probed deeper, and the Eye showed him glimpses of things he would have never pondered on his own. He saw that the storm struck fear in the hearts of the living, causing people to huddle away beneath blankets and sit next to comforting flames. But
it also removed the pettiness from the world and made all things equal. Beneath the storm's fury, social status became insignificant, and people strove simply to weather it out--until the sun's warmth came again, exposing flaws and dividing humankind. Inside the storm was a hidden power, a freedom from the chains of life that could allow one to open doorways ordinarily never glimpsed.
Lannon turned the Eye away from that vision, for he did not understand its true meaning and it did nothing to help his current situation. He directed the Eye on finding a path, and it passed beyond the iron fence and into Dremlock Cemetery, touching lightly upon the tombs of the dead. Lannon kept the Eye moving, for he did not like the bits and pieces of mortality he was shown there. The tombs were built not out of respect for the dead--but out of fear. Fear of death ruled this place. Yet something frightful lurked amid the tombs as well, something that had succumbed to its fear and had crafted its own reality--its own prison. It watched Lannon with a deep hunger, desiring his existence while disbelieving its own. Piece by piece the centuries had worn its prison away, until the illusion itself had become thin and lacking in substance. Yet still it stubbornly remained.
Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity Page 19
