Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows

by Robert E. Keller

  With that, Shennen ended the conversation.

  ***

  Later that night they camped near a grove of pines. Lannon lay awake after everyone else was asleep. The assassination attempt dominated his thoughts, as he struggled to make sense of it. He also searched his memory for clues he'd missed that would have revealed Thrake's link to Tharnin, but could find none.

  Lannon pondered what Shennen had told him, how if he didn't enhance his training and focus--like the Dark Watchmen of ancient times--he would surely die. But if Lannon went that route, he risked losing himself to the Deep Shadow, a fate some believed to be worse than death. For Thrake, that fate had indeed been worse than death, because Thrake's reputation was forever tarnished. He wasn't even allowed a proper burial at Dremlock.

  When Lannon thought of the lonely pile of ashes in the snow that had once been Thrake Wolfaxe, his heart was weighed down by sadness. All the years of sacrifice and hard work the Red Knight had put into his service at Dremlock had been undone quickly and easily by the Deep Shadow. It seemed terribly unfair that Dremlock wasn't allowed to honor Thrake, as if all those years of defending the kingdom suddenly meant nothing. Because the Sacred Laws came from the Divine Essence itself, they were not open to debate and Lannon wasn't even supposed to question them privately. But some of those laws seemed far too strict and judgmental, and Lannon couldn't help but question the reasoning behind them.

  Lannon's thoughts toward Thrake became almost an obsession, and he realized that a quiet voice was whispering in his mind, urging him to leave the tent. Lannon hesitated to obey, however, believing it to be some trick of the Deep Shadow. He sent the Eye of Divinity outside the tent and found four Knights standing guard. He couldn't sense any danger.

  The voice in Lannon's mind became pleading, and at last Lannon pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself and stepped out into the frosty air. The voice was coming from the edge of the pine grove, and the Eye of Divinity revealed a shadow there, standing atop the snow. It was a shadow only Lannon could see. Chills crept over the Squire's flesh, for he sensed no life there--only a ghost of a man who'd once been alive. It was sorcery that seemed to have no end and no beginning, infinite and detached and having little bearing upon the world.

  The guards glanced at Lannon questioningly.

  He pointed to where the shade awaited him. "I must go there alone, just to the edge of the grove. Business concerning the Eye." Two of the guards went and scouted the area for danger, then returned and motioned him on.

  Lannon and Prince Vannas were normally so carefully guarded they couldn't go anywhere alone, but Lannon was also allowed to make use of his power as he saw fit. In that regard, he had more freedom than Vannas.

  Lannon approached the shade slowly and cautiously, having no idea why it had appeared and was summoning him. But as he drew close, the Eye of Divinity saw through the shadows and the face of Thrake Wolfaxe was revealed. Lannon took a step back, startled. This was not who he'd expected to see.

  Thrake's shade was blue in hue--almost frozen looking--and faintly glowing in the moonlight. His eyes had a hollow, dreary look to them. In one hand he held a glowing pale-blue light, like a strange lantern.

  "Thrake!" Lannon whispered.

  One of the guards started toward Lannon--perhaps to remind him not to stray out of sight--but Lannon turned and motioned him back with a wave. The guard glanced at the others, then reluctantly did as Lannon ordered. The four Knights watched him with curious expressions, their hands on their weapons.

  "Yes, it is me," the shade replied in a detached, inhuman voice that seemed to come from all around Lannon.

  "Why have you come to me?" Lannon asked. He didn't want to speak to Thrake's ghost--especially when that ghost looked tormented. He wanted Thrake laid to rest and living on as a memory. Lannon cursed the Eye of Divinity for allowing this form of communication, thinking his power could be torturous sometimes. He was certain he wouldn't like what Thrake had to say.

  "Calm yourself, Lannon," said Thrake. "I'm not here to harm you, but to guide you. I have come to give you a dire warning."

  Lannon groaned, weary of dire warnings. "If this is about the Dark Watchmen..."

  "It is about the will of Tharnin," said Thrake.

  "What happened to you?" Lannon asked. "How did...?"

  "It was the Dragon bones," said Thrake. "Like Shennen, I became obsessed with them. But unlike Shennen, I didn't have the wisdom to resist their power. They corrupted me and I became a Dragon Knight, bound to the service of the Great Dragon. I was filled with sorcery and evil--and cunning. I was able to fool everyone except Shennen. I enjoyed killing the Knights in Dorok's Hand. I relished being a traitor. That is how lost my soul had become."

  Thrake paused, raising his lantern, and his eyes gleamed like silver coins. Twice, he chanted in a strange, quivering, and shrill voice: "The fall of Dremlock nears! The wolves hunt for blood beneath the moon!"

  "What are you saying?" asked Lannon, shuddering.

  Thrake lowered the lantern and stood in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry, Lannon. I was lost in the fog for a moment."

  "I don't see any fog," said Lannon, and he was wracked by chills. "You were talking about wolves and the fall of Dremlock. I've heard something like that before, from Trenton. Is Dremlock actually going to fall?"

  "All things must eventually pass in your world," said Thrake. "Ask me no more concerning the fate of Dremlock. Promise me you will focus on the here and now and not worry about the will of fate."

  Reluctantly, Lannon nodded. "I'll do my best."

  "Are you okay, Lannon?" one of the guards called out.

  "I'm using the Eye of Divinity," Lannon called back. "I'm not in any danger. I must not be disturbed until my task is finished."

  The guards spoke to each other, then signaled him to proceed. However, they continued to watch him closely, looking puzzled. A moment later, one them entered Taris' tent, perhaps to inform him of Lannon's odd behavior.

  "The Dragon will recruit another Knight," said Thrake. "The bones must be buried deep in the ground--forever. You must pass my warning onto Taris immediately. Do not wait until morning!"

  "I'll tell him right away," said Lannon. He hesitated, then added, "And I'll tell Jerret I spoke to you and that you seem to be doing fine."

  Thrake wailed and hissed, and Lannon shrank back. A moment later, Thrake calmed down. "Tell Jerret nothing of this visit! He does not deserve to be lied to, and the truth would be very painful for him. I am not doing fine. The curse of Tharnin stains my soul and denies me rest. I must go on a long journey to free myself...a journey that will take me over the hills of ice and through the valley of the Frost Giants. I am the Spirit of the Snows, the Child of Winter, and until I am free I will never see spring again. The snows do not melt here, where I exist. The ice forever hangs from the boughs. Let Jerret remember me as I was."

  "I will," said Lannon, only wanting the meeting to end. He could not relate to the restless dead, and he found the conversation deeply disturbing. Everything about Thrake was bleak, cold, and strange.

  But Thrake smiled. "Do not despair, Lannon Sunshield." He held up his lantern. "I have a light to guide me through the fog. My tiny blue light that is deeper than the Deep Shadow itself. It is the light of truth."

  "I'm glad to hear that," Lannon mumbled, gazing at the cold lantern and wondering what truth its glow revealed to Thrake. To Lannon, it was a light that glittered like frost and offered no comfort. "So when you free yourself, where will you go? Will you find peace and rest?"

  "I will find spring," said Thrake, still smiling. "The snows will melt at last and the ice will fall from the boughs. The rivers will thaw and sparkle in the sun. I will come to understand that the endless winter does in fact have an end, and warmer weather lies beyond."

  "I don't understand," said Lannon, sighing. "About the winter, I mean. It is springtime right now, and the snows will soon melt away."

  "Your world is no longer my home," said
Thrake, "and you are not meant to understand what I experience. Every path is different. This is my journey alone, old friend. Yet perhaps we may meet again...at the journey's end. I'm sorry I tried to kill you, Lannon. The Deep Shadow hates you above all others, and thus I too harbored vicious hated for you. But I don't hate you anymore, and I'm glad you live on. For now, I must say farewell and begin my long walk."

  "I hope we do meet again," said Lannon, relief flooding through him as he realized Thrake's tormented shade would not be visiting him again. This encounter had brought a sort of closure to Lannon, and he was grateful for that. "And I forgive you for attacking me. I won't forget you. You were a great Knight and a great mentor to Jerret. Goodbye, Master Thrake."

  Thrake turned away and walked into the grove of pines, leaving no footprints in the snow. He soon vanished from sight. A cold wind blew through the area, and ice rattled on the boughs. Lannon shivered beneath his fur cloak and felt like he was in a dream, perhaps under an illusion that the Eye of Divinity could not see through. He wondered if he'd really even spoken to Thrake or if it had been a strange game played by the Deep Shadow--perhaps for its amusement. He gazed at the moon for answers, for he knew from Knightly teachings that looking at the moon would reveal whether or not one was under a dream spell. He found he was wide awake.

  ***

  Lannon stood before Taris' tent, wondering if the Tower Master was asleep. It was around midnight. The guards were still watching him, but they didn't question his actions. However, one of them had gone and scouted around where Lannon had been talking to Thrake's shade. The Knights were well aware that the Eye of Divinity was something they could never understand and that Lannon was assigned an investigative role at Dremlock. They were also aware of Lannon's importance and rank as a member of the Divine Shield.

  "Taris is awake, Lannon," of the guards said. "He is expecting you."

  Lannon stepped into the tent, to find Taris sitting cross-legged in the lantern light with his hands folded in his lap as if in prayer. The scent of a strange incense filled the tent's interior. Taris' cloak hood was drawn back, his pointed ears and scarred face revealed. The tent's interior was warm thanks to Taris' burning dagger, which was laying on a metal chest. Lannon marveled at Taris' ability to keep the dagger burning without touching it, a feat Lannon had never seen before.

  "Sit down, Lannon," said Taris. He poured water from a steaming teakettle into a cup. "Would you care for some tea?"

  Lannon sat down across from him. "Yes, thanks."

  Taris poured Lannon a cup of tea, and the Squire took a sip. It tasted like blackberries and Lannon found it delicious.

  "What business brings you here beneath the moon?" Taris asked.

  Lannon described his encounter with Thrake's shade. The incident was still vivid in Lannon's mind and he was able to reveal it in great detail. It seemed that whenever Lannon used the Eye of Divinity to view something, the memories of it were etched deeply into his brain right down to the smallest details.

  Taris took another sip of tea and sat in thoughtful silence. At last he said, "I believe Thrake's spirit spoke true. I believe he was attempting to redeem himself by warning us about the Dragon bones, and this incident will receive mention in Dremlock's official records."

  "But what happens now?" asked Lannon.

  "I will send two messengers to Dremlock," said Taris. "One of my Knights and an Elder Hawk." He lowered his voice. "They will carry instructions to Furlus to bury the bones in a secret location that shall never be revealed. The danger of keeping them for study is too great. It has already cost us Thrake Wolfaxe, one of our greatest warriors, and it nearly cost us the White Flamestone and the Eye of Divinity, which would have been devastating to our kingdom. We can't afford to have any more of these Dragon Knights roaming around."

  Lannon nodded. "But what about Shennen?"

  Taris shrugged. "I will inform Shennen of my decision after the messengers have already departed. Meanwhile, you will keep quiet about this whole affair. Shennen is too obsessed with those bones, and I fear he will share Thrake's fate. He has become pale and angry. He no longer looks or acts like a Birlote. Even though his heart remains uncorrupted, the bones have clearly affected him. I have no idea how he will react to my decision, but better he finds out later--after the Dragon's remains are gone from sight and mind forever."

  "But what if Shennen blames me?" asked Lannon.

  "He won't," said Taris. "You simply informed me of Thrake's warning. Shennen will blame me for giving the order to bury the bones."

  "What about Thrake's words concerning the fall of Dremlock?" said Lannon. "I once heard Trenton speak similar words when he was dazed."

  "It may be a sign that Dremlock is in grave danger," said Taris, "but nothing is certain. Ghosts sometimes possess knowledge beyond that of the living. And sometimes bits and pieces of the future are revealed to Knights through dreams that are possibly sent by the Divine Essence. But they are only observations of what might come to pass. I do know that the war against the Deep Shadow has escalated in the past decade and our foes have grown stronger."

  "But we slew the Dragon," said Lannon, "and captured Dorok's Hand. Also, Tenneth Bard is dead and Vorden is gone from our world."

  Taris nodded. "Great accomplishments, certainly, but no guarantee of victory in this war. Even the acquiring of the White Flamestone and the Eye of Divinity are not guarantees. We sought you out of desperation, Lannon--in spite of knowing what had become of the Dark Watchmen. We welcomed you into the kingdom, even though some on the High Council feared what you could become if the Deep Shadow found its way into your heart. And the fact that the Divine Essence gave a piece of itself to foolish mortals like us is a sign of our god's fear for the future."

  Lannon was puzzled. "Shennen told me I need to train as the Dark Watchmen once did--that I will likely end up dead if I don't. But shouldn't I avoid anything related to the Dark Watchmen?"

  "Shennen has no patience these days," said Taris, his face darkening. "He tries to push things ahead too quickly. He has grown cynical toward the fate of our kingdom. But he is correct in his belief that one who uses the Eye of Divinity properly will learn to focus it as the Dark Watchmen once did. The Eye is not simply about seeing deeper truths or moving objects. It is a tool designed to enhance the skills of a Blue Knight. However, learning to control your power comes through experience, and you must be allowed to grow at your own pace and not be forced into anything too soon. Shennen doesn't agree with me on that and seeks to bypass my authority."

  "But Blue Knights are assassins," said Lannon. "Am I expected to sneak up on people and attack them from behind?"

  "Not all Blue Knights are assassins," said Taris. "Just a few of them. Shennen is one. But assassination missions are rare and reserved only for enemies who are deemed hopelessly lost to the Deep Shadow."

  "Were the Dark Watchmen assassins?" asked Lannon.

  "In spite of their skills," said Taris, "the Dark Watchmen did not partake in assassination missions. They were warriors who preferred to face their enemy in honorable combat. Therefore, it does not surprise me that you're opposed to such missions. But bear in mind that if an assassination is done for noble purposes in a time of war, it is not dishonorable according to the Sacred Laws."

  "Nevertheless," said Lannon, "I won't be an assassin for Dremlock. I would rather leave the kingdom." Lannon didn't feel that Taris was suggesting he become an assassin, but the Squire wanted to make his intentions clear.

  "Would you like some more tea, my friend?" asked Taris, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It really is excellent tea. An old Birlote recipe."

  Lannon hadn't expected that response, but he wasn't about to press the issue. Taris knew where he stood. "Yes, thank you. It is quite good."

  Taris filled Lannon's cup. "At any rate, you must focus more on your training as a Blue Squire when you get the chance. Concentrate on learning to be a Knight for now, and worry about your missions later. Other than that, you're do
ing fine and shouldn't worry about what Shennen said."

  "But Thrake almost killed me," said Lannon, his cup trembling a bit in his hands as he took a sip. "Maybe the path I'm on is a dead end."

  "Don't concern yourself with it," said Taris. "The life of a Divine Knight is always dangerous. You will never truly be safe as long as you are at war with the Deep Shadow. In fact, be prepared to die in the service of your kingdom. You may die young, but to die as a Squire or Knight of Dremlock means you have lived a good life and deserve your eternal rest."

  "Sorry, Master Taris," said Lannon, "but I don't find that very reassuring. I understand the truth in it, but I guess I don't feel it."

  "Fear of death has no place in the heart of a Knight," said Taris. "All a Knight should be concerned with is obeying the Sacred Laws, avoiding the clutches of the Deep Shadow, and helping the people of this land have better lives. You are very privileged to be a Blue Squire at Dremlock. Few are ever called upon to serve the Divine Essence and battle the forces of darkness. Embrace that way of life with passion and vigor and without fear."

  "I will do my best," said Lannon.

  Taris smiled. "When I was your age, though, I too was afraid. I didn't want to die without experiencing my share of life. I wanted to get married someday and raise children. Then when I became a Squire, I wanted to survive long enough to retire from Knighthood and see my dream come to pass. But as I got older, I lost interest in that dream and came to embrace the life of a Divine Knight with true passion. If I died tonight, my spirit would have no regrets."

  "Thrake has regrets," said Lannon, his mind wandering back to the haunted shade in the moonlight.

  Taris nodded. "Because Thrake found a fate worse than death. It is the power of Tharnin--of that foul Dragon--that keeps his restless shade bound to this world. If you must fear anything, fear the Deep Shadow."