Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows

by Robert E. Keller

  "Until then," said Saranna, smiling.

  Jace's arm had been successfully reattached, and he demonstrated this fact for everyone by wiggling his fingers to cheers and applause. "It's a bit stiff," he said, "but that shouldn't last long. I'll be back to fighting form soon enough."

  After that, the Knights saddled up and resumed the journey to Blombalk Fortress, now several hours behind the Blood Legion in the race.

  Chapter 7: The Watchmen's Keep

  When they stopped to make camp for the evening, the weather was bitterly cold. A few bright stars burned in the heavens, in between some massive bone-white clouds. The snow was frozen into a crust. They were on a wide hilltop surrounded by a few huge oaks with ice hanging from their branches. An ancient stone tower stood nearby, rising up above some treetops. Soon the hill was covered in Knightly tents, and then everyone took refuge inside to warm themselves (except for some shivering guards who were charged with watching the camp).

  The Squires took turns warming their tent's interior with sorcery (except for Lannon, of course, who still couldn't manage to enchant a blade). Galvia was awake, alert, and heavily bandaged. She lay atop a quilt, and her mood was sullen--almost sad. The Squires tried in vain to cheer her up.

  "What's bothering you so much?" Jerret asked. He was seated on the floor with his broadsword across his lap. He seemed to have taken quite a liking to Galvia, perhaps because of her skills as a warrior.

  "It's nothing," Galvia said, but her eyes told a different tale. Part of her dark-grey hair had come unbraided, but she made no effort to fix it. Her broad face looked pained, but from wounds to the spirit more than the body. The other Squires knew that Galvia, being a stout and resilient Dwarf, probably had little concern for her physical injuries. She was suffering on a deeper level.

  "I don't believe you," said Jerret. "You don't seem like yourself at all. I know it was a rough injury, but that can't be what's troubling you."

  "Very well," said Galvia, with a heavy sigh and a bitter expression. "I can't believe I let those Wolves corner me. That was so foolish, and it put everyone at risk. It was as if I forgot all my training--and I mean all of it. Prior to the battle, I thought I knew exactly what to do. Then when things got chaotic, I lost focus."

  "It could have happened to any of us," Jerret reassured her. "No amount of training can prepare you completely for real combat. But you survived, and you gained valuable experience."

  "What if I'm not meant for battle?" said Galvia. "Some people are born to be warriors, and some can never live like that. Maybe I chose the wrong way of life."

  "I highly doubt that," said Jerret. "You have some powerful skills, and besides, you're a Grey Dwarf. What Olrog doesn't have a natural affinity for combat?"

  "There are many Olrogs," said Galvia, "who do not make good warriors. Some went to Dremlock to become Knights--and failed."

  "You'll be fine," said Lannon. "As Jerret said, you're a very talented Squire." He rummaged around in his pack and found some delicious cake he'd been saving. He longed to eat it, but instead he offered it to Galvia.

  Galvia shook her head. "Not hungry."

  With a shrug, Lannon raised the piece of cake for a bite, when Jerret snatched it from him and crammed it in his mouth. Lannon glared at him.

  "Thanks," Jerret mumbled, his mouth full of cake.

  "Maybe I don't belong on this Divine Shield," said Galvia, sighing. "Yes, I think it was a mistake to include me. I should request to be removed."

  "Nonsense," said Aldreya, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. "We're glad to have you with us, Galvia. The Knights chose you for a good reason. They gave you a great honor in adding you to the Divine Shield."

  "That was my first real battle," said Galvia, pulling her hand away from Aldreya's. Her eyes looked haunted. "I expected far better of myself. I guess I wasn't as well trained as I thought, in spite of all the promotions I've received and the belief that I would soon become a Knight."

  "May I fix your hair?" said Aldreya. "The braids have come undone."

  Galvia nodded.

  "You're pondering it too much," said Lothrin, who'd been reading a book by the lantern light. "If you keep dwelling on it, you will let it destroy your confidence." He held up the book. "This is the story of Molth Bloodbow, a Birlote warrior who lost his confidence after a battle and ended up becoming a merchant. Anyway, I'm halfway through the book, and he has come to hate himself for his decision. I'm sure he is headed for a miserable end, full of regrets. You don't want to end up like Molth Bloodbow, do you?"

  Galvia managed a smile. "Definitely not. I would hate to be a merchant."

  "Lothrin is right," said Aldreya. "Let it go and move on."

  "Olrogs take everything too seriously," said Vannas, with a dismissive wave. "To the rest of us, it's just battle--and battle is chaotic. But to an Olrog it means everything, especially that first taste of it." He shook his head in amusement. "I'm glad I was born a Birlote and cannot relate to such thinking."

  "Molth Bloodbow was a Birlote," Lothrin reminded him.

  "That's just a silly story," said Vannas.

  "You're lumping all the Grey Dwarves together unfairly, cousin," said Aldreya. "Don't forget that everyone is unique."

  "Prince Vannas is right about me, though," said Galvia. "I feel like I've failed everyone. I've failed Dremlock. I guess I just need time to get over it. Yet I keep seeing those Wolves in my mind, tearing into me. I felt helpless--not at all like a warrior. The Olrog Elders would be ashamed of me."

  Lannon didn't like what he was hearing. "That way of thinking is dangerous, Galvia. You owe it to Dremlock, and yourself, to put this behind you. You're not perfect. You're going to make plenty of mistakes on the path to Knighthood."

  "Lannon speaks true," said Jerret. "We've all done stupid things and learned from them. You're young like the rest of us. Give yourself time to grow."

  "I'll try," Galvia promised, wincing as she probed the bandages on her stomach. But she continued to look depressed.

  "Just focus on your recovery," said Aldreya, concern in her eyes. "The Healers managed to save your life, and now you need to do the work to get back on your feet. You'll feel better once you're up and about."

  "And those were no ordinary Wolves that cornered you," Jerret reminded Galvia. "They were extremely cunning and powerful."

  "If I may change the subject and give Galvia a bit of peace," said Vannas, "that whole incident in Elder Oak was alarming."

  "Indeed, those were extraordinary Goblins," said Aldreya. "Maybe the Blood Legion created them somehow and sent them to invade the town. It could be part of a new plot to take over all of Silverland."

  "That doesn't seem likely," said Lannon. "For one thing, not all Goblins serve the Blood Legion. Many are simply spawned in the Bloodlands and are wild creatures. But assuming these Goblins were under command of the Legion--which the presence of the two priests seemed to suggest--what would they have stood to gain by invading Elder Oak?"

  "Supplies, perhaps," said Lothrin. "It appeared the Goblins were gathering items in the tunnels below the town, perhaps to take back to Old Hammer Hall. Maybe the Blood Legion is running low on provisions."

  "But the supplies were being consumed," said Aldreya. "The food and drink was scattered all about. I got the impression the Goblins weren't planning on going anywhere and were simply indulging in their loot."

  "It does seem that way," Lothrin admitted.

  "It's another Goblin Puzzle," said Lannon.

  "Regardless," said Aldreya, "what those villagers endured was horrible. If we hadn't arrived there when we did, I'm sure they all would have perished. I wonder if there are other towns under attack by these new Goblins."

  "I'm sure Taris will send word to Dremlock," said Lannon, "and more Knights will be dispatched to check on the villages of Silverland."

  "There are a lot of small villages," said Vannas. "Far too many for the Knights to protect. But I'm sure Dremlock will do its best."
/>   Aldreya rose. "Lannon, come outside for a moment."

  Lannon nodded and followed her out into the night air. The guards glanced at them questioningly but said nothing. The two Squires moved a short distance away from them where they could talk privately in low voices.

  "What's wrong?" Lannon asked.

  Aldreya looked weary. "It's Galvia. Her mood troubles me. And I just needed to come out and get some fresh air."

  Lannon shivered and adjusted his fur cloak. "Well, the air is certainly fresh out here. And rather cold."

  "It's not just Galvia," Aldreya went on. "It's Vannas and Jerret as well. I can't understand them. I miss Vorden and Timlin."

  Lannon missed them too, and hearing their names spoken aloud filled his heart with pain. "Vannas and Jerret are honorable, but a bit misguided. At least there is still hope for them. Not that I've given up on Vorden and Timlin, but..."

  "I was hoping Galvia would be different," said Aldreya, "but I guess I can't relate to her either. I suffer from self doubt now and then, but she seems to be going way too far with it."

  "She'll get over it," said Lannon. "She just needs time."

  Aldreya stood silently for a moment, as if pondering something. Then she said, "If I tell you a secret, will you keep it?"

  "I can keep a secret," said Lannon, "as long as it doesn't interfere with my duties as a Squire." This was an unusual move by Aldreya. She rarely opened up like this to anyone, and she wasn't one to share secrets.

  "Of course," said Aldreya. "I would never ask you to violate the Sacred Laws. It's nothing like that." She seemed hesitant and perhaps a bit anxious.

  "Well, go ahead," Lannon said, intrigued.

  "Lately," she said, "I find myself wishing I had never come to Dremlock. It doesn't show, but I'm beginning to feel...a sort of despair. Nothing has worked out as I expected. I keep thinking of Borenthia and how much better my life was there. I know it's selfish, but I can't help myself."

  "You're right," said Lannon, "it doesn't show." If anything, lately Aldreya had seemed more positive and caring than ever before. She'd become a bit sullen and quiet, but when someone was in need, she was quick to offer aid and comfort. Lannon had assumed she was focused only on becoming a Knight.

  "I've hid it well," said Aldreya. "But you're a good friend, and I feel I can talk to you about things that Vannas and Jerret would just dismiss. And I don't really know Lothrin that well, as we never talked much while growing up."

  "I didn't realize you were so troubled lately," said Lannon. He preferred the upbeat, optimistic Aldreya who seemed so sure of her place at Dremlock. But the life of a Squire (one who'd been thrown into action early) had clearly taken a toll on her, and this was who she'd become, for better or worse.

  "Dremlock is so different than what I expected," Aldreya said. "I thought I would train in comfort and enrich my knowledge. Then, when I was a fully trained Knight, I would fight Goblins and the Blood Legion and return victorious from each battle. I had envisioned it to be a joyful way of life, filled with victory celebrations. But it has turned so ugly..." She shook her head. "So many things have gone wrong. I worry about the other Squires, especially Vannas who seems so overconfident. I keep having nightmares that my cousin ends up like Vorden and Timlin--cursed beyond hope and marked for death by Dremlock."

  "I fear for them too," Lannon admitted. "But there is not much we can do about it beyond encouraging them to stay on the right path. We just have to take it day by day and hope for the best."

  She nodded. "You're becoming wise, Lannon, and acting more like a Knight every day. I wish I could be like you."

  Lannon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Actually, I've been very impressed with you, lately. The way you brought comfort to that wounded villager... You're well on the path to Knighthood. Yes, you're going to have some doubts and regrets. But I'm certain you're going to be a great Knight, Aldreya."

  "Maybe that's all I needed to hear," she said, smiling. She gave Lannon a hug.

  Jerret poked his head out of the tent. "So what's going on out here?"

  "Just having a friendly talk," said Lannon, who still had his arms around Aldreya. He could see the jealous glint in Jerret's eyes, and it amused him.

  "A friendly talk, huh?" said Jerret, frowning. "A very friendly one, by the look of it. You are indeed getting bold, Lannon!"

  Glaring, Aldreya picked up a chunk of snow and threw it at Jerret's face. He ducked back inside.

  "Come on," she said to Lannon. "Let's go get warm."

  But Lannon continued to stand out in the cold for a few moments, even after Aldreya had entered the tent. He understood why Aldreya's thinking was so different from his own. She'd had a wonderful home in her tree city of Borenthia, and he envied her for it. Lannon missed his parents (he planned to visit them when he got the chance) but he never wanted to live in that wooded valley again. His true home was Dremlock now and there was no doubt in his mind where he wanted to be. He was finding it easier to adjust to life at Dremlock than the other Squires because, all things considered, he had no other home. This was all there was for Lannon.

  He stood atop the crusty snow, gazing at the few bright stars burning overhead. The life of a Divine Knight was a lonely one, but Lannon was used to that. He'd been alone growing up (with his parents too focused on each other and their constant battles to pay attention to him) and now, even with friends like Aldreya, he still felt alone. His power seemed to separate him from others, leaving him feeling detached. He wondered if the Dark Watchmen had felt that isolation and if it had helped drive them into the eager embrace of the Deep Shadow. As that last thought crept into his mind, Lannon's gaze was drawn to the ancient tower that stood nearby, its windows dark and empty in the starlight, and chills flooded down his spine.

  ***

  Lannon had just returned to the tent and was feeling warm and relaxed under his quilt--and looking forward to a peaceful night of sleep--when Taris Warhawk leaned into the tent. "Come outside, Lannon," the sorcerer said, "and bring your climbing gear. Bring all of your tools, actually."

  Lannon shoved aside the quilt and rose, strapping on his sword and tightening his fur cloak around him. He loaded up with all of his Blue Squire gear--rope and grapple hook, grip powder, lock-picking tools, and a tiny Glaetherin saw that could cut through steel. Then he stepped out into the freezing air, wondering what Taris wanted at this late hour.

  Taris held a Birlote torch, and he pointed it toward the ancient tower. "Remember when I said I would tell you the story of the Dark Watchmen?"

  Lannon nodded.

  "Well, the time has come," Taris went on. "Except that I'm not going to merely tell it to you--I'm going to show it to you. That is the ancient meeting place of the Dark Watchmen, where they discussed the affairs of the land. It is a strange old keep, and a very dangerous one--still protected by dark sorcery. However, you will be safe enough under my guidance. And this will give you a chance to get some proper training as a Blue Squire."

  Lannon gazed at the dark tower that rose above the treetops and shuddered. The keep struck fear into his heart, but he was eager to learn about the Dark Watchmen, and he felt he had little to fear with Taris accompanying him.

  "This will be a good test for you," said Taris. "It could strengthen you and make you a greater threat to the Deep Shadow. Or it could be a very bitter experience. So yes, it has its risks. Are you prepared?"

  Lannon considered it and felt confident he could do whatever Taris demanded of him. "I think I'm ready."

  "Good," said Taris. "I figured you would be up to the challenge."

  "Is anyone else coming with us?" Lannon asked.

  "No," said Taris. "We must go alone. I don't want to put anyone else in danger. This keep is filled with traps for the unwary."

  Without another word, Taris started down the hillside. Lannon hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him. Their boots made crunching noises on the crusty snow. They passed through a grove of ancient oak trees, at the center of
which stood the old stone tower in a small clearing. It rose up about two-hundred feet into the air, its bulk darkly outlined against the stars. The lower half of the tower was webbed with ice-covered vines, and a large stone door stood before them. Two life-sized stone statues (also webbed in vines) of cloaked and hooded figures holding swords stood on either side of the door. The presence of dark sorcery overwhelmed Lannon, and he dreaded entering the tower. It seemed to have a grim intelligence behind it, something plotting his downfall even before he passed beyond the door. This was the darkest, strangest keep Lannon had ever encountered. Yet mixed with that darkness was beauty and a hint that this had once been a noble place.

  "Quite a sight, isn't it?" said Taris, running his fingers over the door. "This tower once stood for peace and justice--before the Deep Shadow corrupted it. Yet even after hundreds of years of darkness, one can still sense the presence of hope and honor that Tharnin has not been able to completely erase."

  Lannon nodded, his emotions on edge. The Eye of Divinity revealed the tower as it once was--a beautiful keep surrounded by blessed oaks, where the guardians of Silverland would meet and hold extravagant feasts. The tower was the same in appearance after centuries--except that it was now murky with shadow. The power of Tharnin concealed its beauty and made it sinister.

  The door had no handle.

  "I entered through a window," Taris explained, "when I visited here before." He pointed to a window about forty feet above them. "We can gain access there, if we must. But this door was designed for one who possesses the Eye of Divinity. This whole tower was built for you, Lannon."

  Lannon seized the stone door with the Eye and pulled. Slowly it came open enough to let them through. They stepped inside, and the door closed on its own behind them. Immediately, Lannon felt like he was home--like the whole tower was embracing him. For the first time in his life, he truly felt he was where he belonged. He had no doubt this ancient tower was indeed built for him.

  They stood in an octagonal chamber with a trapdoor at the middle of it. Thirty feet above them was a stone ceiling with a round hole cut in it. Ancient boards and stone blocks lay strewn around, but otherwise the chamber was barren. Lannon could see no stairway leading upward. Lannon examined the trapdoor. It was made of stone, with an iron ring, and looked to be quite heavy.