An instant later, Shennen's dagger was pressed against Lannon's throat. "Just like that, Squire, and I bleed you dry!"
"You've made your point," Lannon mumbled, his head throbbing from the impact with the stone wall. He now had no doubt that Shennen was possessed by Tharnin. The other Squires looked on with expressions of dismay.
"You're not as strong as you thought," said Shennen, sneering. "You fought the Hand of Tharnin and Tenneth Bard--sorcery against sorcery--and it made you think you're invincible. Yet there are many ways to kill."
"Understood," Lannon mumbled. He reached up to push the long, curved dagger away from his throat, but Shennen slapped his hand away. Anger surged through Lannon and he readied the Eye again.
Then door swung open and Jace strode in. The towering sorcerer's eyes widened when he beheld Shennen pressing his dagger into Lannon's throat. "What is the meaning of this?"
Shennen sheathed his blade and pulled Lannon up from the floor. He grinned at Jace. "Just a lesson in humility that needed to be taught. Lannon is unharmed, though his ego may be bruised."
Jace looked thoughtful, but didn't reply.
Still grinning, Shennen strode past the sorcerer and left the room. "More lessons to come," he called back. "For all of you."
***
The journey south was delayed without explanation. As the winter moved along toward spring, two more highly ranked Knights were found assassinated--Garver Pureheart and Deleena Dragonclaw. Garver had been a powerful Red Knight and was considered the best at the use of the heavy throwing lance, while Deleena had been a talented sorceress.
This latest devastating loss to Dremlock caused fear and paranoia to spread throughout the fortress. Morale was low, and some disgruntled Knights began to mutter that they should abandon Dorok's Hand in spite of the great sacrifices made to secure it from the enemy. Furlus, who'd led the raid on the fortress, responded angrily to such suggestions--at one point shoving a sneering, defiant Knight against a wall and knocking the defiance right out of him.
Meanwhile, the Squires discussed the recent incident with Shennen, and even Vannas and Aldreya had to admit Shennen was behaving strangely and the "lesson" Shennen had administered to Lannon seemed outrageous. Lannon reminded them that he could have split his head open on the cavern wall and that Shennen hadn't seemed to care in the least. It was almost as if Shennen had been trying to injure or kill Lannon, and Shennen's promise that more lessons would be administered put all of the Squires on edge. The assassinations added greatly to their fears, causing them to wonder if Shennen himself was the assassin--as they were well aware that a servant of Tharnin was capable of anything. Suddenly, every shadowy corner of Dorok's Hand held sinister potential.
However, the Squires were ordered to increase their training time, which helped distract them from the grim events in the fortress. Lannon began trying to channel the Eye of Divinity through his sword. At first it seemed he was only moving the sword around with the external force of the Eye, and he almost gave up in frustration. But then he felt something happening within the bony blade itself. The Dragon sword seemed to take on a life of its own, slashing and stabbing in whatever direction he wanted at the hint of a thought. It also felt charged with energy--the crushing force of the Eye. However, it was very difficult to sustain that energy, and Lannon quickly grew exhausted and his control of the weapon grew sloppy. But day after day he practiced it, and little by little his stamina increased.
At one point they were joined by two more Blue Squires who'd arrived from Dremlock along with a shipment of supplies. One was an elite Birlote hunter and archer named Lothrin Windbow, yet another member of the royal family. Lothrin was a lean, muscular lad with unkempt silver hair and a strange leaf-shaped birthmark on his cheek. He had a calm and logical demeanor that made him very likeable. Lothrin seemed more Ranger than Blue Squire, carrying only dagger and bow for weapons and having a mind focused mostly on plants and animals and the ways of wilderness survival. The other Squire was a Grey Dwarf named Galvia Blazehammer. Like all Dwarves, she had a broad face and drooping eyebrows, and her heavily muscled limbs contained strength even Jerret couldn't match. She possessed a rare Olrog skill which was simply called Fire. It was a powerful form of sorcery that only one out of a thousand Dwarven warriors was known to possess.
Prince Vannas bore a sour expression at the sight of these new arrivals. "I can't understand why you were sent here," he said, after the new Squires had introduced themselves. "Why not send more fully trained Knights instead?"
The six Squires were alone in the bedchamber.
Galvia looked uncomfortable. "I don't know why I was sent. I was simply told I would resume my training here and be part of the Divine Shield, and that I must protect you and Lannon."
Vannas smirked. "So you're here to protect us, huh, Galvia?" He glanced at Lannon. "Do you feel safer now that she has arrived?"
Lannon didn't reply, wishing Vannas would just keep his opinions to himself (though he knew his wish was folly).
Galvia's gaze was fixed on the floor, but her grey eyes smoldered with Dwarven stubbornness. "I'm only doing as ordered."
Vannas glanced at Lothrin. "Well? What about you?"
Lothrin shrugged. "I was probably sent in case you meet a bad end, my good prince." He smiled. "Someone would have to pick up that shiny stone of yours and put it to good use."
Vannas' smirk vanished and he glared at Lothrin. "In case I meet a bad end? What does that mean? The Divine Essence didn't choose you, cousin. It chose me. The White Flamestone would be weak in your hands."
"Weak, perhaps," said Lothrin, smiling, "but better than nothing. It isn't wise to restrict such a powerful weapon to one pair of hands, even if those hands were chosen by our god and king."
"Are you saying the Knights chose you as a possible replacement?" Vannas demanded. "I don't believe it!"
"No, not a replacement," said Lothrin. "But they've been busy testing other Knights and Squires, trying to find someone who could wield the White Flamestone in case you met an unfortunate end. I alone passed the test. Barely. The truth is that no one can unlock its power like you can, my prince. The Divine Essence chose you for a reason. The Flamestone would be vastly weaker in my hands. But since I passed the test, they sent me along."
"It wasn't necessary for either of you to come here," said Vannas. "And if I have my say, you'll be sent back to Dremlock."
"We're pleased to have you both here," said Lannon, stepping in front of Vannas and shaking their hands. Aldreya and Jerret did the same.
An awkward silence followed.
Vannas sighed. "I'm not being mean spirited here." He forced a smile. "Actually, I just don't want to see more Squires put in extreme danger. But since you were ordered to come here and had no choice but to obey, I suppose I too must welcome you...at least for now." The prince extended his hand.
The two Squires shook it without hesitation.
After that, Vannas seemed in a better mood and the Squires got along fine. All the Squires of the Divine Shield were required to bunk in the same large room, girls and boys alike, so they could be easily kept under guard. Half of the chamber had been converted into a training area, with weights, practice dummies, and other accessories. A highly trusted Blue Knight named Fajan Stoneheart was sent to oversee their training. Fajan was very strict and didn't seem awed by the Squires' talents. He insisted they return to the basics of Blue Squire training--even forcing the loud and clumsy Jerret to participate. Aldreya, however, continued her sorcery training with a Grey Knight named Zana Wolfheart. Lannon, Vannas, and Galvia were also allowed time for their special training, which all three of them did on their own.
At one point, when Lannon stood alone in a corner, seeking to channel the Eye of Divinity through his sword, he noticed Taris Warhawk watching him with a concerned look. "Is something wrong?" Lannon asked.
"Your training looks strange to me," said Taris.
Lannon explained what he was doing.
&nb
sp; "Who told you to train like that?" asked Taris.
"Shennen," said Lannon. The realization startled him. Had Shennen been trying to lead him astray in some fashion?
Taris nodded. "Shennen is behaving in a reckless manner lately. He should not have given you that advice."
"Why?" said Lannon, chills creeping over his flesh.
Taris hesitated, then stepped closer, peering at Lannon with a strange expression from beneath his hood. "Channeling the Eye of Divinity through a sword was the preferred practice of the Dark Watchmen. As you may recall, the Dark Watchmen came to an unfortunate end. They lost their way."
"Should I cease the training?" asked Lannon, feeling deeply disappointed for some reason he couldn't explain.
"It's too late for that," said Taris. "You have already started along that path of sorcery, and you will be compelled to follow it. You must avoid the feelings of battle lust and arrogance, which could be your undoing."
"I will do my best, Master Taris." Lannon didn't think he would have much trouble avoiding those feelings. Battle lust sounded more like something Jerret would be prone to, and in spite of Shennen's recent outburst over Lannon's supposed arrogance, Lannon still considered himself quite humble.
"Tomorrow we will ride out for Blombalk Fortress," said Taris. "Or rather, what remains of it. I believe the fortress was not attacked by an army--but by some great power source, perhaps equal in strength to the White Flamestone. If so, Timlin and his Legion will be seeking that power to use against us."
"But what could be as powerful as the White Flamestone?" asked Lannon. "I thought it was the greatest of all weapons."
"Only another Flamestone," Taris replied. "There are more of them out there, scattered throughout the land. When the White Guardian was shattered, the pieces of the god child were hurled far and wide."
"But they can't be just wielded by anyone, right?" said Lannon.
Taris nodded. "But those who can wield them have always sought them out, and some are the servants of Tharnin."
"But why would a servant of Tharnin attack a Blood Legion fortress?" asked Lannon. "Aren't they all fighting for the same cause?"
"That's an excellent question," said Taris. "Perplexing, isn't it? Perhaps you can give us the answer. But beware, for I suspect there is a traitor lurking about. He might be the assassin, or he might be someone else."
"Do you think it's Shennen?" Lannon whispered, glancing about nervously. The other Squires were busy with their training.
"I don't know who it is," said Taris. "It could be anyone. I understand your concerns about Shennen, but without evidence we cannot make accusations or remove him from the Divine Shield. It is not our way. Dremlock considers its Knights innocent until proven guilty. However, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious when we have suspicions."
Lannon nodded, knowing Taris spoke true.
"We ride south at dawn," said Taris, "and the assassin and traitor may be riding with us. In fact, I believe there is a strong chance of it."
And Taris would say no more on that subject.
***
Lannon, his friends, and a company of Knights rode out through the huge wooden gates of Dorok's Hand on a cold spring morning. The light of dawn was just beginning to creep over the mountains, and heavy shadows still hung over the snows. A few torches were lit, revealing tired, sullen faces.
All the members of the Divine Shield were present except Furlus Goblincrusher, who remained at Dorok's Hand to guard the fortress in case of a Blood Legion attack. Aside from the six Squires and Saranna the Ranger (and her wolf), there were fifty Knights on horseback--a mix of Red, Blue, Brown, Grey, and White, and five elite Birlote archers on loan from Borenthia. The Squires rode in a tight formation, guarded by Thrake, Shennen, Jace, Trenton, and Taris, who were themselves surrounded by a wall of heavily armored Red Knights. They brought Olrog sleds that were laden with supplies and could easily be converted into small wagons.
The freezing air stung Lannon's face, and he sat slouched in the saddle, barely able to stay awake. He'd slept poorly the night before, filled with too much anticipation over beginning the journey. Yet his desire to get out from under the oppressive gloom of the mountain was diminished on this sullen morning, and he found himself longing for his bed and a warm quilt.
"It's a bit early for traveling," Jace muttered, "when the sun hasn't yet warmed the face of the mountain. Too cold even to smoke my pipe."
"It's a perfect day," said Thrake Wolfaxe, as he stroked his bushy bread. "See, if you had some hair on your chin, Jace, you might not be so vulnerable to the cold. You should consider avoiding the razor for a while."
Jace gave him a sullen glance. "Perhaps, but right now a warm bed and some pleasant dreams are what would repair my mood."
"A beard like this might make a man out of you," Thrake went on.
"Or make a nest for lice," said Jace, waving dismissively.
That statement brought on laughter from all around.
"The beard does not make the man," said Taris, chuckling, "though if Furlus were here he would certainly dispute that statement. And by the way, Thrake, your beard will soon match Furlus' in width and length. That's sure to irritate him, so you better watch your back. If you're lucky, he may only sneak up on you in your sleep and clip some off."
Thrake grinned. "He might indeed. I'm sure he wouldn't like the fact that a Norack like me has a beard to rival a Grey Dwarf's."
"Keep your voices down," Shennen muttered. "Unless you want us to be heard all over the mountain and on the plains below."
"Yes," said Trenton, his expression sour "everyone be silent, please! I can't stand good-natured conversation this early--when I haven't even had a sip of hot tea and the frost stings my nose. Let us just ride and be miserable."
"No misery here," Thrake said. "I couldn't be more happy to be free of Dorok's Hand and out in the fresh air."
"Agreed," said Taris. "It would please me greatly never to have to see Dorok's Hand again. And speaking of Furlus, I'm sure he loves that wretched cave. It's not surprising he chose to remain behind."
"I wish I could have remained with Furlus," said Trenton, "wretched cave or not. "My duty was to find the assassin. I feel I'm neglecting it."
"You'll have plenty of mysteries to investigate," said Taris, "on this journey. You, Jace, Saranna, and Lannon, that is."
"I don't work with Squires and outsiders," said Trenton.
"This time, you will," said Taris. "When Squires and outsiders have valuable skills, a good Investigator makes use of them."
"Very well," Trenton said, giving a big sigh. "If you order it done, it will be done. Personally, I don't feel I need any help. I've served Dremlock well for years on my own. But you have spoken, and I obey. Strange that you bring this up now, though, when the journey is already underway."
"Are you going to lower your voices?" said Shennen, "or should we just start shouting to our enemies to start setting ambushes?"
No one answered.
The journey down the mountain was slow, as the horses worked their way through deep snowdrifts. As the day wore on and they were riding past some huge, twisted pines with boughs laden with snow, the weather warmed some and a thick fog settled around them. The fog was so dense and appeared so suddenly it put the Knights on edge, and they halted travel to discuss the issue.
"I sense the work of Tharnin," said Shennen, drawing his blade. "This fog feels foul against the skin and bears a faint stench like the Bloodlands."
"I smell nothing but pines and fresh air," said Thrake. "I think it's just some dense fog, not unusual in the mountains this time of year."
"This mist is definitely not natural," said Taris. "It is some weapon of Tharnin, meant to blind and confuse us. An attack is sure to come. Be on guard and protect the Squires. Protect the White Flamestone at all costs!"
"How can we see to protect anything?" Trenton snarled. "We've blundered into this like a pack of fools."
Lannon could barely see a
nyone around him, even though they sat on horseback just a few feet away. The fog clung to his skin and made his flesh crawl. The air had warmed considerably, and moisture was beaded on his face.
The Eye of Divinity revealed the fog as a living creature--like some kind of Goblin that had a shifting, vaporous form. It had been spawned deep within the Bloodlands, a rare creature that had taken decades to reach maturity. The Blood Legion had modified it somehow with dark sorcery--giving it the will to attack and confuse the Divine Knights. But Lannon's gaze pierced it and glimpsed a large pack of Goblin Wolves charging through the snow. He yelled a warning and pulled the Eye into a shield around him--while still leaving himself with a small field of magical vision. He drew his Dragon sword.
Grinning, Jerret yanked his broadsword from its sheath. The blade--made of stout Glaetherin, a material that was very suitable for channeling sorcery--shimmered with crimson fire. "Just tell me where to swing, Lannon!"
Aldreya drew her dagger, her green eyes darting about as she sought to glimpse enemies in the mist. She rode alongside Galvia, whose war hammer was glowing so hot it looked like it had just come from the forge.
Vannas held forth the White Flamestone, and its light seemed to push back the fog a bit--but visibility barely increased.
"The fog is a living creature!" Lannon warned.
Calmly, Lothrin prepared his bow. He sat relaxed in the saddle, his head tilted to one side as if he were listening for his enemies. "Use your weapon against the fog, my cousin," he said to Vannas.
But the prince made no move. He looked hesitant.
"Lothrin is right," said Jace, who sat on horseback close to Vannas. "You may be able to burn the fog."
"Yes, attack the fog!" Taris ordered.
But before Vannas could do so, the Wolves were amongst them. With Lannon being the only one who could see more than a couple of feet in any direction, mass confusion resulted. The Wolves used their keen sense of smell to find their enemies, leaving the Knights at a large disadvantage. The attack would have been far more devastating if most of the Knights had not been heavily armored, as snapping Wolf jaws were repeatedly turned away by thick leather and steel.
Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows Page 4
