Taris commanded everyone to hold formation, but the wall of Knights that surrounded the Squires soon broke apart. Magically charged weapons hacked into Wolf flesh and bone, and colorful sparks erupted in the fog along with cries of pain from both Knights and Goblins.
A Wolf leapt from the fog at Lothrin, but he shot the beast in the heart and then ducked as the Wolf flew over him. The Wolf was dead before it hit the snow. Lothrin sat up calmly and readied another arrow.
Jerret swung viciously at a Wolf with his broadsword and missed, throwing himself off balance in the saddle. The Wolf seized his fur cloak with its jaws and yanked him from his horse. The two disappeared into the snow and fog. Lannon's gaze quickly found them, however, and he seized the Wolf with the Eye of Divinity and held it motionless while Jerret impaled the beast.
Vannas twisted about in the saddle as dark shapes moved around him in the mist. "I cannot tell friend from foe!" he yelled, his eyes wide.
Then a huge hand reached from the fog and seized his shoulder. It was Jace. "Ignore the wolves!" Jace commanded. "Concentrate on the fog!"
Vannas blasted white fire into the mist, at a high enough angle that no Knights were in its path. The fog parted, allowing the energy beam to pass through harmlessly. "It's not working!"
"Widen your attack," came Taris' command from somewhere nearby. "Everyone move away from him!"
Vannas closed his eyes, his face grim with focus, and the White Flamestone became engulfed in a radiant glow. He waited while the others (with the help of Lannon's guidance) rode away from him.
"Be careful, young prince!" Jace warned. "You could do as much harm as good!"
"I can control it," Vannas insisted.
"We're about twelve feet away from you, Prince Vannas," Lannon called out. He threw all of his energy into shielding himself, wondering if the Eye was strong enough to protect him from the White Flamestone's wrath. He hoped Vannas knew what he was doing and that the whole company of Knights and Squires didn't end up as piles of ash.
A Wolf burst through the defenders and charged at Vannas, but Lannon seized it with the Eye and dragged it down into the snow. Then the radiant glow burst forth in all directions for several feet, turning the Wolf to ash.
The fog itself started to burn, shuddering and recoiling as if in pain. The white fire seemed to know where to go, avoiding the Knights and horses as it burned away the fog. Moments later, the mist had dispersed and the remaining Wolves were revealed. The Knights quickly put an end to them.
A few Knights were injured from Wolf bites, but otherwise they had come through unscathed. Cheers arose and they chanted Vannas' name, as he sat beaming in the saddle. Lannon groaned quietly, thinking the prince's ego was sure to expand some more--though Lannon couldn't deny that Vannas seemed destined for great deeds and deserved the praise.
***
The riders wondered if the journey was going to consist of one ambush after the next, but as the sun rose and set and the mountains grew distant, they encountered no further trouble. The weather warmed during their journey on the Boulder Plains, and melting snow slid off of rocks and pines around them. A spring rain began to fall, soaking the riders. Fog settled over the snow again--only this time Taris assured them it was the natural kind.
Natural or not, however, the fog caused fears of another ambush. Two Elder Hawks circled low above, scanning the mist for enemies. Massive boulders loomed like Ogre sentinels in the fog, and roots from fallen pines jutted up like clusters of Pit Crawlers here and there. The riders were glimpsing false Goblins everywhere, and tension was high. The Squires huddled together on their horses, knowing they were the prime targets of any attack. Lannon knew that a single arrow from the fog could mean his end, but continuously shielding himself with the Eye of Divinity or probing the landscape around him made him tire quickly, so he simply entrusted his fate to the Knights who guarded him.
In spite of his powers, Lannon was still flesh and blood, and death could take him in an instant from the world. He wished he had the ability to make himself immune to damage. Lannon had tried wearing Glaetherin armor offered by the Knights, but it was heavy and seemed to distract from his ability to channel the Eye. He realized he would always be vulnerable--able to die from the cut of the simplest blade. He could only shield himself briefly and then he was no different than any other Squire. Lannon would never even possess the resilience of Taris Warhawk or Jace--men with bodies that had been strengthened by sorcery over the years to the point where they aged much slower and healed much faster than normal men.
That evening they camped near the shores of the Grey Lake. The Squires were provided with a large tent to accommodate them all, and they were placed under heavy guard. As night settled over the land and the rain beat down steadily on the tent, the Squires sat around a bulky Olrog lantern that had been specifically designed for safe use in tents. They summoned the fires of sorcery to dry out their clothes. Soon it was warm and comfortable in the tent.
"I like the sound of the raindrops," said Lothrin, who sat sharpening his dagger. "It reminds me of Borenthia--the rain falling in the treetops. When others would sit inside, I would venture out in the rain along the branches to hunt." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I always loved the smell of the forest during those times."
"What animals did you hunt in the rain, cousin?" asked Vannas.
"Many things," said Lothrin, his eyes distant. "Some animals will only be seen when the rains fall. The meat is a true delight."
Vannas shrugged. "If you say so. I wouldn't know, because I always stayed indoors during the rainy season in front of a warm fireplace."
"I long for home constantly," said Aldreya, sighing. "Dwelling in that frozen cave of Dorok's Hand made me realize how good life was in Borenthia."
"I miss Borenthia as well," said Vannas, "especially the Royal Hall--but not enough that I'd care to return there anytime soon. Dorok's Hand is such a foul place it makes one want to live anywhere else. Now that we've left that wretched fortress behind, I feel good again about being a Squire."
Lothrin held up his dagger and inspected it in the lantern light, then put it to the sharpening stone again. "Home is wherever we are, and we must make the most of it."
Lannon thought of the little cabin in the woods where his mother and father had spent their days feuding while Lannon struggled with constant boredom. He wasn't surprised to find he didn't miss it. "My home is Dremlock Kingdom," he said, "until the end of my days."
"As is mine," said Galvia. "I am the daughter of a fisherman from Silvergate. My life was wretched until the Knights recruited me."
"In what way?" asked Jerret, leaning close to her.
Galvia shrugged. "In ways I won't talk about, so don't bother asking."
Jerret rolled his eyes. "Come on, we're all friends here."
Galvia hesitated, then said, "I had a hard life on the boats, if you must know. Too many drunken men around who care nothing for the welfare of others--especially women. I had to learn to protect myself from an early age, because my father seldom protected me." She bowed her head. "It doesn't matter now. The Knights took me away from there and now I have a home and a purpose."
"I'm sorry to hear about your childhood, Galvia," said Aldreya.
"Me too," said Jerret, with a troubled expression.
Galvia gazed at Jerret. "So what about you, Jerret Dragonsbane? What kind of life did you lead before Dremlock?"
Jerret looked uncomfortable. "Mine was boring. Very boring."
"Then by all means keep it to yourself," said Prince Vannas, yawning. He leaned back on his elbows. "I'd rather not hear a boring story."
"I want to hear it," said Galvia.
"Trust me, you don't," said Jerret. He shifted about, almost appearing to squirm. "It will put you to sleep."
Galvia gave him a curious stare.
Lothrin sheathed his dagger, his green eyes gleaming in the lantern light. The lean Squire sat with his legs crossed, some jerky on one knee and his sharpening
stone on the other. His long, silver hair partially concealed the strange, leaf-shaped birthmark on his face. "The past doesn't matter now, because we're here together. We can make our own destiny."
Vannas held up the pouch containing the White Flamestone. "My destiny is this, cousin. The only destiny I want or need."
Lothrin shook his head. "Your destiny is not a stone, oh prince. That's just a weapon, like my dagger."
"Not just a weapon," said Vannas. "The ultimate weapon."
"Don't be a prisoner of that stone," said Lothrin, frowning.
"Prisoner?" said Vannas. "Hardly. This Flamestone is bonded to me. It is a part of me now and a part of my future."
"You're a man," said Lothrin. "Flesh and blood, and nothing more. Be a simple man who holds a great stone, not a great man who holds a great stone--or that stone will crush you with the weight of its burden."
Vannas laughed. "You and your silly riddles. I always did like that about you. It amuses me."
Lothrin chuckled. "Glad I can entertain, at least."
Lannon considered the meaning of Lothrin's words. Vannas seemed obsessed with the White Flamestone and terribly overconfident--not hesitant in the least to brag about his power, as if he'd forgotten it all came from the stone. He seemed too caught up in his own greatness and sense of destiny. Lannon wondered why the Eye of Divinity had never had that same effect on him. Lannon had always been fearful of the Eye, and though his confidence in using it had increased, the fear and uncertainty remained. The Eye of Divinity seemed darker than the White Flamestone and laced with peril, having led the Dark Watchmen to a bad end. On the other hand, perhaps the power of the White Flamestone seemed incorruptible to Vannas--and perhaps it was incorruptible, but Vannas himself was not.
Thrake Wolfaxe stepped into the tent, rain dripping from his beard. He sat down and smiled. His huge, muscular form shivered beneath the fur cloak he wore over his armor. He seemed to take up half the tent. "Greetings, Squires."
They greeted him in return. Aldreya quickly moved to his side to dry him with her dagger, but Thrake seized her arm. "None of that," he said gruffly, pushing her away. "I'll take care of it myself."
Aldreya bowed and sat back down.
Thrake drew his own dagger and set to work drying himself off with the mystical fire. "You should be able to rest easy, Squires. You're very well protected. No foe can get to this tent without a serious fight on his hands."
"Thank you, Master Thrake," said Jerret, who idolized the Red Knight and seemed to think of him almost like an older brother. "I know that with you guarding us, we have nothing to fear."
For an instant, a shadow of doubt settled over Thrake's face. Then he gave a weary smile. "I hope that's true, Jerret."
"Thanks to you and Master Shennen," said Prince Vannas, "I can sleep in peace." He hesitated, then said, "Master Shennen is guarding us as well, right?"
Thrake frowned. "Yes."
"Is something wrong?" asked Vannas, his eyes narrowing.
"Nothing I will speak of," said Thrake.
"It's about Master Shennen," said Aldreya. "Right?"
Thrake glared at her. "Did you not hear what I just said, Birlote? I don't care to speak about this topic."
"My apologies," said Aldreya.
Thrake slapped his knee and sighed. "I didn't come here to be harsh with you Squires. Rather, I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of you. I've never seen a finer or more talented group of Squires in all my years. And I would gladly die protecting you, as you are the future of Dremlock Kingdom."
The Squires exchanged delighted glances (with the exception of Lothrin whose face betrayed no expression) and thanked the famed Red Knight for his kind words. Jerret looked especially pleased.
"Master Thrake," said Jerret, "you're the greatest Knight of all."
Thrake chuckled, his face reddening a bit. "No, Jerret, that praise belongs to our Lord Knight, Cordus Landsaver."
"But you'll be Lord Knight someday," said Jerret. "I know it!"
Thrake gazed at Jerret in silence for a moment. Then he said, "If I had a son, I would want him to be like you, Jerret."
Jerret bowed, a broad grin on his face. "I appreciate the kind words, Master! I've learned a lot from you and...and I owe you so much. The training you gave me in Dorok's Hand did wonders for me."
Thrake shook his head. "You owe me nothing, Jerret. But you owe it to yourself to become a great Knight, my young friend. Even if your color class does have to be Blue." He scowled as he spoke that last statement, then winked. "Not that Blue isn't a fine class, of course."
Jerret sighed. "I'd rather be Red like you."
"You still might get your wish," said Thrake. "Clearly, you were not meant to be a Blue Knight and this could be a temporary assignment."
"I can only hope," said Jerret.
"Anyway, I'm so very proud of all of you!" said Thrake. He drank deeply from a flask, and the smell of wine was strong in the tent. "Our future is bright, and we will triumph over the Deep Shadow!"
Prince Vannas clapped his hands together. "Well said!"
"Agreed," said Lannon, his mood soaring. He suspected the wine had softened Thrake's normally cold and gruff personality, but he deeply appreciated the Red Knight's kind words and optimism.
"I have something else to tell you," said Thrake, a troubled expression settling over his face. "I want you to beware of..."
Thrake let his words trail off as Shennen stepped into the tent. The Lord of the Blue Knights gazed sternly at Thrake--his shining Birlote eyes contrasting his pale face. "What going on in here?"
Thrake shrugged. "Just having a friendly chat with the Squires and drying myself off. Nothing important."
Shennen's eyes narrowed. "You're supposed to be standing guard outside, Thrake, not sitting in here indulging in comforts."
Thrake nodded. "Sorry, Shennen. But what does it matter? If I'm in here, I'm still guarding them."
"Because I want the Squires in this tent alone," said Shennen. "You may check on them briefly through the entrance."
Thrake looked troubled. "Why?"
Shennen hesitated. "Reasons of my own, and none of your concern."
"I'm part of the Divine Shield," said Thrake, glowering. "So it is my concern! I find your insistence on the Squires being alone in here to be...unsettling. I realize there was that assassin at Dremlock, but still..."
Shennen glowered back. "I am the Lord of the Blue Knights, Thrake. Are you the Lord of the Red Knights? No, there is someone ranked above you named Furlus Goblincrusher. So therefore, I am also ranked above you, Divine Shield or not. So therefore, you will submit to my commands. Is that understood?"
The Squires exchanged tense looks.
"It's understood, Shennen," Thrake said. "But know this--I will be checking on the Squires quite a bit."
"Good," said Shennen, giving a forced smile. "I would expect no less from you. And tell Jace he is not allowed in here either, if he tries to enter."
Thrake sat in silence for a moment looking almost helpless, then gave a shrug. "If you order it, I guess I have to obey. But I strongly question this and will take the issue to Taris when my guard duty has ended for the night."
Shennen nodded. "Speak to Taris all you want. I care not." His piercing gaze fell on Lannon. It seemed to hold a warning of doom that made Lannon's heart sink. "Those who question me should beware!"
Thrake thrust out his chin defiantly. "Beware of what?"
"You'll know soon enough," said Shennen, smiling at Thrake. "Sooner than you think. And the lesson will be harsh."
"Master Shennen--" Lannon started to protest.
"Silence, Squire!" Shennen interrupted, dismissing Lannon with a wave.
"Did you just threaten me?" Thrake growled.
Shennen's hand slipped down to the hilt of his Flayer. His eyes twinkled. "No, I just let you in on my thoughts. Now you know them."
"And I don't like them!" said Thrake. "There is something different about you, Shennen.
I wish I knew what it was. Everyone knows you've been behaving strangely."
Shennen laughed. "Think what you will."
Thrake rose. "Maybe I'll just go and have a chat with Taris right now, so we can settle this!"
"Have at it," said Shennen, looking amused. "And Taris will do nothing. So don't bother wasting your time."
Thrake's mouth hung open in disbelief. "I can't believe the way you're behaving. All these years that I've known you..."
"Enough talk!" Shennen muttered. "Actions are all that matter, so do something or be silent!" With that, he strode out of the tent.
His face pale and his knuckles white as he clutched his axe, Thrake followed into the pouring rain, closing the tent flap behind him.
The Squires sat there in silence, dismayed and filled with dread.
Chapter 4: Duel on the Snows
The Squires slept poorly that night, wondering what Shennen was planning. Even the three Birlotes found the Blue Knight's attitude shocking. Lannon was certain Shennen hated him above all others, and he lay awake for hours wondering if a blade was going to end up buried in his throat. He wanted to speak to Taris about it, but he knew Taris would take no action due to lack of evidence.
When the light of dawn broke over the snows, the Squires were deeply relieved. But before the journey could resume, Taris called a meeting in the camp. It was another foggy day with melting snow, but the rain had stopped. The Squires assumed Taris was going to address the issue of Shennen's behavior.
But Taris chose a different topic. "We have news from the Blood Legion," he said. "Timlin Woodmaster and some of his soldiers are camped nearby. They too are on their way to Blombalk Fortress. We are in a race with them, obviously. We could do battle with them, but that would distract from our goal of investigating the attack on Blombalk. However, a messenger has informed me that they wish to duel. The losing party must remain camped here for three days, allowing the winner to gain a significant head start on the route to Blombalk."
Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows Page 5
