Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity

by Robert E. Keller

  With that, the company parted ways.

  Chapter 19: The Blood Legion

  As Lannon, Taris, and Furlus stepped out into the frozen, moonlit night,

  they encountered four Squires, who were wandering past. These were older boys, nearing Knightly age, and their faces were tense and exited. With shaky voices, they greeted the Tower Masters.

  "What are you Squires up to?" said Furlus, studying their sashes. "I see you bear the Silver Axe." Furlus was referring to a small symbol stitched onto their sashes. It was a special promotion given to some Squires on rare occasions allowing them to carry out limited Knightly duties. "Does Cordus have you on a mission of some sort?"

  "Yes, Master Furlus," said one of the boys. "We're supposed to watch for any suspicious activity around Dremlock and report it at once."

  "And have you noticed any?" said Furlus.

  "None," they replied.

  "Then carry on with your duties," Furlus said. He whispered something to Taris, and the sorcerer nodded.

  With that, the Tower Masters and Lannon continued on. They met more groups of Squires on their way to the North Tower, all bearing the Silver Axe insignia on their sashes. Like the first bunch, these ones too were wandering around Dremlock watching for anything suspicious. Furlus questioned each of them briefly, and hearing nothing of value, waved them on with their task.

  At last the North Tower loomed over them in the moonlight, and they found Cordus Landsaver standing at the top of the steps talking to four of his Red Knights. When Cordus saw the others, he hurried down to greet them.

  Taris and Furlus explained all that had happened to them. When Cordus heard about the evidence they had uncovered, and the death of Tenneth Bard, he was ecstatic, but his mood took a downturn when he learned of Caldrek's death.

  "That is very sad news," Cordus said quietly, shaking his head. "Caldrek was the most talented fighter Dremlock has seen in ages, and he was one of my most trusted Knights. It is only fitting that he died a great hero, and we shall give him the highest honors allowed. For three days, this kingdom will lie beneath a veil of silence and prayer."

  "What has happened while we were gone?" said Taris.

  "Dremlock has been put on full alert," Cordus said. "However, it may not be enough, if the attack comes suddenly and in great numbers. We have to find their entry point into the kingdom, if indeed one exists, and then perhaps we can strike first. Obviously, we'd do better to fight this out in the tunnels below rather than right in the midst of our kingdom. I wonder if the Blood Legion knows that you've learned of their plans. If they do know, the attack will undoubtedly come very soon, for any sort of diversion on their part will no longer be necessary."

  Taris shook his head. "There is much guesswork involved. We know very little about our enemy, and I did not recognize the man who slew Caldrek. Could this be the original Blood Legion we're dealing with? Or is this an entirely different group bearing the same name? And what was Tenneth Bard's connection to them?"

  "After years of spying on our foes," said Cordus, "we could not learn the truth. The Blood Legion appeared to pose only a minimal threat at best, at least compared to the Goblins. They apparently managed to keep their dealings below Dremlock a secret, and it seems possible they are connected to the Goblins somehow."

  "I don't know about the other Black Knights," said Taris, "but I believe Tenneth Bard had something to do with the new, intelligent Goblins. I'm fairly certain he played a hand in creating the Lords--if that truly was him down there." The sorcerer glanced apologetically at Lannon. "We cannot know for sure, until we retrieve his body. And even that might not be enough to identify him."

  "At least the Goblin Puzzle is solved," said Furlus. "That alone was the burden that nearly proved Dremlock's undoing.

  "Indeed," said Cordus. "And I've already sent out the messengers. Let us pray they arrive in time to save Kalamede. As far as Dremlock goes, I've put all our Knights and many of our Squires on full watch, so at least we cannot be caught entirely by surprise. The High Council is assembled in the Great Hall, demanding answers. But I have been too busy thus far to provide any. You can imagine Moten and Kealin's reaction to this. They seem to think I'm the one that's plotting Dremlock's downfall."

  "We won't be worrying about what Moten thinks much longer," mumbled Furlus. "His days of glory are soon to end."

  "Why don't you tend to the High Council?" said Taris. "Furlus and I will take Lannon and scout around for the attack point."

  "I should check all the books and maps," said Furlus. "I might be able to locate any forgotten entrances to the mines."

  "We have no time for that," said Taris. "The Eye of Divinity can do what needs to be done." He placed his hand on Lannon's shoulder.

  "I will put someone else on the task of searching the books," said Cordus. "Meanwhile, Furlus, you should go along with Taris and the boy and see what you can find. Your knowledge of the mines might be needed."

  As they watched Cordus enter the North Tower, they did not envy his task of having to pacify the Council. At Taris' bidding, Lannon summoned the Eye of Divinity and held it at the ready. He was surprised and delighted at how easily he could call it forth now, and his confidence soared. He felt ready to undertake this mission.

  "So where should we begin?" said Taris.

  Furlus thought in silence for a time. At last he said, "What about the Cemetery? Could the opening lie amid the tombs?"

  Lannon's confidence took a dive and his face went pale. He remembered the horrors he had glimpsed in that place, and their encounter in the Olrog tombs was still fresh in his mind. Dremlock Cemetery was the last place he had expected or wanted to go, and he wished Taris would suggest something else.

  His wish was not granted.

  "That is a good idea," said Taris. "Some of the crypts run deep, with tunnels and sealed doors. Could it be that one of them leads to the mines? And what better place to begin their attack than in a place no one dares venture into at night? While Knights and Squires patrol the borders, our enemies could easily sneak out from the tombs and quickly spread throughout Knightwood."

  Lannon wished his friends were with them, for if he had to face going into that area, he could have used their company. They had defeated Tenneth Bard together, and he felt a unique bond with them that he did not share with these Tower Masters. Taris and Furlus were wise and powerful, and could probably protect him better than anyone else, but it wasn't the same somehow.

  "I'd rather not go in there," Lannon said. "Maybe I could stand outside the Cemetery and use the Eye. I think that place is haunted."

  Taris nodded. "It is very much haunted, Lannon. Dremlock Cemetery holds numerous restless spirits who, for differing reasons, have not found peace. But the main curse upon that place is caused by sixteen Dark Watchmen who reside in the crypts. Their souls, tainted by the Deep Shadow, never sleep."

  "But there is something else," said Lannon. "A huge hand."

  Taris and Furlus exchanged a puzzled glance.

  "Like the ones that knocked us off that bridge?" said Furlus.

  Lannon shook his head. "No, more like a ghost or something. It doesn’t feel like a living thing, but something else. I guess I can’t explain it."

  "A giant spectral hand?" said Taris. "I am not familiar with such a ghost. I have met and spoken with nineteen of them--the Watchmen, a former Lord Knight, a former Green Knight and sorcerer, and a former Tower Master. I did not know there was a twentieth Ghost in there!"

  "But you don't have Lannon's power, either," said Furlus. "He sees things even a sorcerer like yourself cannot."

  "Indeed," said Taris. "Regardless, the ghosts appear rarely and are mostly harmless. They can cause a nasty feeling or two, brought on by the aura of the Deep Shadow, or they can cause tremendous fear, but that is about all."

  Lannon nodded uncertainly. That giant hand had seemed different, ready to crush anyone who got too close--worse than those wooden hands down in the mines. Can't I just try the Eye
from outside first?" he said. "Or maybe we could just put guards around the Cemetery."

  "You can try searching from beyond the fence first," said Taris. "But if the range is too far for you, we shall have to go inside. This is something we need to investigate. Our Knights and Squires are spread around the kingdom. We cannot afford to concentrate them all in a single area, for if the attack came from elsewhere, it could be disastrous. We have no time to stand here and debate this issue."

  Furlus had already turned and was walking in the direction of the Cemetery. Taris motioned Lannon along and then started walking. Having no choice, Lannon reluctantly followed.

  As they entered the woods, Taris patted Lannon on the back. "I know you're afraid of the Cemetery. Most in Dremlock are. And I know you feel we should be trying something different. But that’s because you do not yet know me. I work best when I’m alone or with just a few others. Mark my words--while Knights, Squires, and High Council members argue and scurry about, we will find the forgotten entrance to the mines, if indeed it exists."

  "Listen to Taris," said Furlus. "For once he knows what he's talking about. He has sound intuition concerning such matters."

  Taris raised his eyebrows. "Praise for me? From Furlus Goblincrusher? What strange times I find myself in."

  "Enjoy it, sorcerer," said Furlus. "Because you probably won't hear it again anytime soon."

  Their boots crunched loudly in the frosty stillness. Off in the distance, they could hear faint voices, as Knights and Squires went about their tasks. Then a wolf howl erupted close by. Taris paused and raised his hand, bringing the others to a halt. A moment later, another howl came from a little farther away.

  "Why can't I try the Eye from here?" said Lannon. The Cemetery lay just ahead through the moonlit woods, and he found, despite all he had been through recently, that he was shaking with fear. He kept seeing the giant hand in his mind, reaching forth to crush his bones into fragments.

  "The distance is too far," said Taris. "You dare not stretch yourself so thin, for the danger becomes magnified, I believe."

  "What danger?" said Lannon.

  "You might see too many sights," said Taris. "And there are other concerns. A servant of the Deep Shadow could use your power against you, and you would not realize it until too late. The farther you stretch out the Eye, the less accurate your viewings will be, and the easier it would be for a foe to threaten you. Remember what happened when you gazed upon that Goblin Lord? There are methods that a clever adversary could use to destroy your sanity, if not your life. Always get as close to your target as possible before using the Eye, for your control will be greater and the risks much less."

  Lannon said nothing and just gave a slight nod. He knew there was no sense in arguing with the sorcerer at this point, for Taris had made up his mind and clearly was intent upon journeying to the dreaded place.

  When they reached the iron fence that surrounded Dremlock Cemetery, Lannon gazed in at the tombs of the dead. The crypts glittered with frost in the moonlight, and the pine boughs that hung over them were heavy with snow and bent down. Lannon couldn't help but notice how some of those boughs looked like giant, groping hands. He was tired of giant hands trying to crush him--Ogre hands, Troll hands, giant wooden hands, and now something that seemed worse than all the others combined.

  "Well, here we are," said Furlus. "So what happens now?"

  "Lannon will try the Eye from here," said Taris. "Not only may it save us time, but he could also discover any dangers lurking within."

  "Then get on with it, Lannon," said Furlus.

  Lannon nodded, but he dared not speak because he had doubts about whether or not he could utter a sound, so dry was his throat. He swallowed and fought to steady himself, trying to stop the trembling of his body. Taris spoke a few soothing, encouraging words, and Lannon slowly released the Eye into the graveyard.

  Lannon tried to block out any images that did not pertain to his goal, but it wasn't easy. Phantom visions tried to force their way in, disrupting his focus, and he felt a deep revulsion that almost made him physically ill when he thought of that giant hand hunched somewhere in the hollow spaces below. He probed much of the Cemetery, and then extended the Eye beneath it as far as he was able, searching for an entrance to the mines. He ignored Taris' warning about stretching his gaze too thin, for he was desperate to complete his goal from beyond the fence. But his gaze could only go a short distance below ground once it neared the middle of the graveyard--certainly not deep enough to prove anything.

  Before he drew the Eye back completely, Lannon summoned all his remaining courage and searched for the giant hand. It took all the will he possessed to bring himself to look for that horror, and he was grateful, in many ways, when he failed to find it. Much uncertainty remained, since he could not cover all the areas below ground from here, but now it wasn't difficult to persuade himself that the hand might have been a product of his imagination. After all, Taris claimed to know the ghosts that lurked within. Perhaps Lannon had misinterpreted one of them, or perhaps one of the ghosts had used its power to scare him with an illusion. Taris had said they sometimes tried to frighten people.

  "I can't find an entrance," Lannon said. "But I don't see any dangers, either."

  "Were you able to view all the crypts?" Taris asked.

  Slowly Lannon shook his head, knowing what this would mean.

  Immediately, Taris pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the gate. "We shall begin near the center," the sorcerer said, "and then work our way out towards the edges. I have a strong suspicion a lost entrance lies in here somewhere, and so we must be thorough, Lannon. The fate of Dremlock may depend on it."

  Lannon nodded, and with wobbly legs, he followed the Tower Masters into the Cemetery. The snow was deep here, having piled up over the course of the winter, but it was frozen into a crust that they were able to walk atop it. Some of the tombstones were just barely visible as they poked out of the snow, while other, more splendid ones towered overhead. With each step, Lannon imagined huge fingers exploding up through the crust and latching onto him, and he held the Eye of Divinity in a defensive posture, imagining that it was a shield protecting him from harm.

  When they reached the middle of the Cemetery, they stood in the shadow of a stone tomb dedicated to a Lord Knight named Harswald Greatsword. In spite of an inscription that told of Harswald's nobility and heroics, the tomb had a strange and ugly look, decorated with depictions of leering Goblin heads and grinning skulls at the base. Lannon was confused.

  Taris smiled, as he watched the boy study the tomb. "Old Garthane," he said. "That is what we call this style. Garthane Goldenaxe did the design work on some of the tombs of this Cemetery, and several other places, including the East Library in my tower. He was an eccentric Olrog Knight, and fiercely stubborn--even by Dwarven standards. He had an exuberant personality, which contrasted his fantastic and grim sculptures. Throughout the ages, many have declared his work unfit for a holy kingdom like Dremlock. However, I very much like his work, and find it quite unique."

  "Always time for a bit of history and philosophy," said Furlus, rolling his eyes, "when Taris Warhawk is present. Now are we going to stand here and freeze, or get on with our task? Last I knew, we were facing a possible invasion."

  Taris nodded. "Begin your search, Lannon."

  Lannon sent his gaze straight down, and about thirty feet below discovered a tunnel with a door of Glaetherin--protected by a wheel lock. The passageway had the unmistakable feel of the mines. The stone had been tunneled through around the door of Glaetherin, and in that tunnel was a man in his final stages of life. He wore stout black armor, yet he had been partially crushed, and he had crawled into that tunnel, where he lay bleeding away his life. Shocked at this sight, Lannon momentarily lost his control, and the Eye veered off in a random direction, going past the tunnel and into a large chamber--where an even more dastardly sight awaited Lannon.

  The floor of the room was littered with corpses--black
-armored men and women who had all been crushed and battered. Echoes remained of screams, pain, and terror. Some had escaped, fleeing off down the tunnels, vowing never to return. Other echoes crowded in, ancient and reeking of evil, and he grew sick to his stomach, doubling over. Too late, he realized he had stretched himself too thin, and for an instant, he found he could not draw his power back. He realized Taris was clutching his arm, mumbling strange words in his ear. The Eye suddenly retreated all the way into him.

  "They're all dead!" Lannon panted, struggling to catch his breath. "Killed by something... Wait, one man is alive. He crawled into a tunnel, but he won't last long." For an instant, Lannon thought he was going to pass out. But then the sickness slipped away and he managed to stand up straight.

  "Wait here," Taris said sternly, to Furlus. "I am going to go down and speak with the dying man. We need to know what caused this."

  Furlus scowled, but knowing he needed to stay and protect Lannon, he did as Taris commanded. "Just hurry up!" he muttered.