Then Shennen returned alone. "Well done, Lannon."
Lannon let the Eye falter. "So it worked?"
"She didn't see you," Shennen replied. "However, she did note that something in the room unnerved her. She could feel the presence of the Eye somehow. That is unfortunate, but there is nothing to be done about it. If the Eye gives you away, it is not true invisibility. However, unless you're an elite Birlote sorcerer, learning the art of invisibility usually takes tremendous talent, dedication, and practice. Only a few Blue Knights have ever mastered it. But the Eye has given you a great advantage, in spite of that obvious drawback."
"Then I became invisible," said Lannon, amazed.
"You did your best," said Shennen, "and I'm satisfied with the result. Again, it was limited invisibility, so bear that in mind. And, of course, you had Aldrek Windspear to help you."
Suddenly, a tall Birlote appeared out of thin air in the corner. His silver hair was concealed beneath a wide-brimmed black hat, and he wore a long black cloak. He smiled at Lannon, went to him, and shook his hand.
"I only helped you slightly, Lannon," said Aldrek. "The power of the Eye did most of the work. You should be proud of yourself."
"Thank you," said Lannon, excited.
"It's a start," said Shennen, "but because the Eye almost gave you away, I suggest you simply allow Aldrek to conceal you on our mission. You should only attempt invisibility yourself if you have no choice."
"I agree," said Aldrek. "Yet Lannon's gift is extraordinary. I have never seen anyone learn this sorcery so quickly and with no training."
"Our survival may depend entirely on stealth," said Shennen. "We're going to try to enter a heavily fortified keep, where the core of the Blood Legion resides. We can only guess at what horrors will await us there. If we're discovered and captured, we will face torment and death. Our goal, of course, is to retrieve the Black Flamestone--but if Timlin Woodmaster gets in our way, then he will face the blade and Dremlock will be free of the threat of that traitor."
Chapter 17: The Poison Claw of Bellis
Timlin sat at the head of a table in the Dining Chamber. He presented a calm, stately demeanor, but inside he cursed himself yet again for returning to Old Hammer Hall. He sipped some ale and noticed that his hand was trembling. The Dining Chamber was a mountain cavern lined with thick oaken tables and chairs--a rugged, torch-lit room fit for barbarians. Timlin disliked everything about Old Hammer Hall and its Dwarven design, and he longed to be far away from there with the Black Flamestone safe in his possession.
Seated to his right was Ethella, holding her crystal staff adorned with demonic faces, and to his left was Ulmason Deathhand, in full black armor. Also present were Hoytus Shadowblood and Rulain Knightslayer, the Dwarven brothers with sullen faces. This was all that remained of the Blood Legion's High Council. The rest had perished at Blombalk Fortress.
Also seated at the table was Omharal, the High Wizard, and two of his elite Knights, known as Guardians, who were concealed by golden armor and looked almost like metal statues with swords and shields. Omharal was a lean, sour-faced Birlote with cold eyes and braided silver hair. He wore a green robe with gold trim--adorned with the white Crest of Bellis--and he held a colorful staff with three, feather-shaped blades at the top. He was a renegade sorcerer from Borenthia, wanted for murder in his homeland for the assassination of a Birlote Lord. Some referred to him as the Poison Claw of Bellis, due to his preferred method of dealing with his enemies, and he was feared and hated throughout Gallamerth.
The meeting had been delayed for a few days while they waited for word on Vorden's situation. When no news came, they assumed Vorden was either dead or captured and the Hand of Tharnin lost to Dremlock.
"Anything new to report, Timlin?" asked Omharal.
"Nothing," said Timlin. "Dorok's Hand is silent."
"It is good that the gauntlet is lost," said Omharal, with a shrug. "It was too dangerous to be useful. Also, it was an evil item and an offense to our king." His Golden Knights nodded in agreement.
Timlin also agreed. The Hand of Tharnin was evil and disgusting--unlike the wondrous Black Flamestone that possessed only beauty and purity. Vorden had likely perished with his demonic gauntlet, and Timlin felt that his old friend had gotten what he'd deserved. All Vorden had cared about was power and glory. But Timlin cared about beauty and truth and peace--all the things the Black Flamestone offered him so easily.
"But Vorden is still our leader," said Ethella, fixing her icy gaze on Timlin. "And now, if he lives, he has fallen into Dremlock's clutches and could face torment or execution. We have an obligation to free him."
"Agreed," said Timlin, though he didn't really care if Vorden ever returned to his role as Supreme Commander or not. If Vorden was alive, he could rot in Dremlock Dungeons for all Timlin cared. Timlin's mind was on one thing only--the Black Flamestone and how he might escape with the device.
The High Wizard frowned. "Of what value is this Vorden fellow without the Hand of Tharnin? He has no power."
"But he remains our leader," Ethella insisted. "We are bound by honor to acknowledge that. Would you abandon your king if he was stripped of his power and imprisoned? Surely Bellis understands the concept of honor."
Omharal nodded. "Of course. But should a former Squire of Dremlock--a mere lad--ever have been appointed your commander in the first place? Certainly not. Perhaps Vorden should be removed from his position. Can't you vote on it? I understand if you were afraid to vote on the issue before, but Vorden can no longer harm you. It will be easy to simply vote him down and forget him."
"We weren't afraid," muttered Rulain. "We fear no one."
Hoytus bowed his head, however, doubt in his eyes.
"Yes, the Legion Council was terrified of Vorden," said Timlin, with a laugh, "and rightfully so. I vote to keep Vorden as our leader. If anyone wants to vote me down, go ahead. But we don't know exactly what happened at Dorok's Hand--whether or not Vorden was really killed or captured." This was true, and Timlin saw no reason to invoke Vorden's wrath if he still lived, when all Timlin wanted was to get away from everyone and their wretched problems.
"I second Timlin's vote," said Ethella.
Rulain glanced at his brother, then said, "No reason to question Vorden's leadership until we know for sure what became of him."
"Agreed," said Hoytus, a shadow of fear in his eyes.
"Vorden will remain our absent leader," said Ulmason Deathhand. "He served the Legion well, as Timlin now does."
Omharal shrugged. "It matters not. Soon Dorok's Hand will fall to Bellis, and your leader--if he still lives--will be returned to you, for whatever that's worth. The Hand of Tharnin, however, must be destroyed if possible."
"What if Vorden still wears the gauntlet?" asked Ethella. "It is a difficult device to unlock, though I suppose Dremlock could just cut off his arm."
Timlin chuckled at her latter statement.
"Then he will be commanded to surrender it," said Omharal. "The device is unacceptable. King Verlamer has ordered it destroyed. He has also ordered that the Black Flamestone be brought to Bellis."
Timlin cringed inwardly, and his hand locked around the Flamestone in his cloak pocket so fiercely his knuckles hurt. He wanted to draw his Flayer and stab Omharal through the heart. He seriously considered it for a moment, thinking that if he struck quickly enough he could succeed. The wizard was not far away and apparently wore no armor (though his robe could possibly hide a thin breastplate). But Timlin decided to bide his time and wait for a better opportunity.
Rulain Knightslayer sneered. His dark-grey beard, which was set in three braids, quivered with rage and contempt as his hands knotted into fists. "So we're just puppets of Bellis now? We do everything we're told? The Black Flamestone should go to our Goblin Lords and nowhere else! How arrogant is Bellis to make such demands?"
"Calm yourself, my brother," said Hoytus, looking alarmed.
But Rulain kept his gaze on the High Wizard.
"Arrogant?" said Omharal, his eyes narrowing. "Bellis does not employ the services of foul Goblins, and we will not permit the Black Flamestone to be given to them. We have seers who can unlock the secrets of that gem. If you want to see Dremlock fall, you should cooperate with us fully. We are working together for mutual benefit. Bear that in mind, Dwarf."
"And once Dremlock falls," said Rulain, "will we have our independence restored to us? I highly doubt it. We will continue to function as slaves."
"Be careful, brother," Hoytus mumbled.
Rulain swatted an ale jug off the table. "Why should I be careful? I'm a member of the Legion Council! I have the right to speak my mind! For hundreds of years, the Blood Legion was independent and bowed to no one. Now, suddenly, we're just slaves to the King of Bellis?"
"Calm yourself," Timlin ordered. But excitement surged through him. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
But Rulain rose from his chair, his Dwarven temper boiling over. "I won't calm myself! How dare this vile wizard come into our fortress and start making demands? We would be better off siding with Dremlock than bowing to this filth!"
"Perhaps you've had too much ale, Rulain," said Ethella.
Omharal sneered. "You will bow, Dwarf, one way or another."
"Never!" Rulain shouted. "I'd rather die than--"
Suddenly, Rulain went into a coughing fit and clutched his chest. He looked startled and confused, glancing down. Then he slumped forward over the table, knocking over some mugs and a pitcher.
Omharal gazed down at him and smiled.
Hoytus gasped. "Brother, are you okay?" He shook Rulain's shoulder. Rulain didn't respond.
Timlin checked Rulain for a pulse, but found none. He ordered the fallen Dwarf taken to the healers, though he knew it was too late. "I think he's dead," said Timlin, adopting a concerned expression even though he didn't care at all. He'd never liked Rulain Knightslayer anyway.
"Perhaps his heart gave out," said Omharal. He casually took a sip of wine from a crystal goblet. "Too much temper."
Hoytus jumped up and raised his battle axe, glowering at Omharal. "Liar! You slew my brother with your foul sorcery!"
Omharal laughed, as Rulain's body was carried away by two Soldiers. "Prove it. You cannot."
Hoytus hesitated, then shouted, "You know I can never prove it! But I...I know it was you! I'll kill you for that!"
Hoytus' battle axe erupted into crimson flames, and he drove the blade down toward Omharal. But one of the Golden Knights blocked the stroke with his sword. The two Guardians rose to defend their leader.
Timlin leapt to his feet. "Enough!" He pointed at Omharal. "I want this sorcerer and his guards thrown in the dungeon for their treachery."
Ethella gazed at Timlin in shock. "We cannot oppose Bellis!"
Ulmason Deathhand rose and stood next to Timlin, towering over him and holding his huge axe poised for combat. His one eye smoldered with defiance as he gazed out from his horned helm. "Timlin has given an order--and shown guts in doing so. Anyone who defies him must deal with me!"
"In Vorden's absence," said Timlin, "I am the Supreme Commander, remember? These three are to be arrested at once. Go ahead and vote me out of power...if you dare, or do as you're told."
"I stand with you, my lord," said Ulmason. "We are not puppets of Bellis, to allow a Council member to be assassinated by poisonous sorcery right before our eyes. The Blood Legion does not yield to such treachery!"
"But what if it was his heart?" said Ethella. "It could have been a natural death. Where is our evidence of treachery?"
"We will investigate the matter," said Timlin. "Meanwhile, Omharal will be imprisoned. If found guilty, he will be executed."
"I stand with Timlin!" Rulain growled. "Omharal--you will pay dearly for your cowardly attack on my brother!"
Ethella hesitated, then said, "I stand with Timlin as well."
Legion Soldiers closed around Omharal and his two Golden Knights, locking irons onto their wrists. Their weapons were taken.
Omharal looked surprised and enraged. "So the infamous Blood Legion is actually a bunch of fools. I expected better from you. You choose to seal your fate over the death of that arrogant sod?"
Rulain shook his fist at Omharal. "My brother!"
"You made a grave mistake, wizard," said Ulmason. "The Blood Legion honors its brothers. You have underestimated our loyalty."
Omharal glowered but said nothing, as the High Wizard and his two Guardians were lead away in shackles to the dungeon.
Timlin seized Rulain's arm. "I promise you there will be justice for your brother. For now, try to control yourself."
Rulain flinched away from his grasp. "Control myself? My brother was just murdered right before my eyes, and the killer still lives!"
"Not for long," said Timlin. "We will plan a proper execution."
"Bellis will be enraged," said Ethella, shaking her head. "We dare not execute him, or we will surely doom ourselves."
"Again, I need time to think," said Timlin.
Rulain's eyes widened. "But he will be put to death for this, right? There is no chance you will let this vile Omharal leave here alive?"
"Justice will be served," Timlin mumbled.
"I must go and see my brother," said Rulain, wiping tears from his eyes. "This...how could this happen right in front of me?"
"Go and see him," Timlin said gently. He covered his mouth to hide a yawn, bored with Rulain's concerns. "We will talk later."
Looking stunned, agonized, and furious all at once, Rulain trudged from the Dining Chamber. He paused in the doorway and turned, as if he intended to say something more, but Timlin motioned him along. He left the chamber.
Timlin struggled to keep from grinning. He'd just bought himself a bit of time, but that was all he needed to flee from Old Hammer Hall. The Black Flamestone burned hot beneath his touch, prompting him to be fearless in carrying out his escape plan. Timlin sensed the stone would assist him--perhaps lend him power on a level he couldn't begin to imagine. There was no doubt the Blood Legion and Bellis would come after him, but he would be ready for them.
Chapter 18: The Savage Peaks
Nighttime had settled over the land when Shennen, Lannon, Aldrek, and six masked Blue Knights departed from Dorok's Hand. They were the first to abandon the fortress, but they wouldn't be the last, as the rest of the occupants were busy preparing to ride against the forces of Bellis.
They rode out through the gates into a moonlit night--which didn't work in their favor, as it left them visible. An Elder Hawk circled overhead, watching for spies in the rocks and in the sky. Their mission depended entirely on them not being seen as they approached Old Hammer Hall. There was no point in trying to turn invisible, as the range of the technique was limited and they were more likely to be spotted from outside that range. They navigated through the shadows as much as possible and did not talk.
After about an hour of travel through the peaks, the Elder Hawk suddenly swooped down from the sky and landed. The large, black-and-silver bird beat its wings four times--a warning that roughly a dozen Goblins had been spotted. The hawk pecked twice at the snow, indicating that it had also glimpsed a spy and that the spy had seen them. The hawk then motioned with its head in the direction of a narrow valley between two rocky cliffs.
"This is unfortunate," Shennen muttered. "If these Goblins are in league with the Blood Legion, they may flee to Old Hammer Hall and warn them."
"We should strike quickly, Master," said a masked Blue Knight. "Slay them all before any can escape."
Shennen nodded. "Yes, we must eliminate them!"
With that, the Lord of the Blue Knights drove his horse at a gallop toward the valley between the cliffs. The others followed. Beyond the cliffs, the valley opened up into a wide, snowy slope that held a Goblin camp. A number of crude wooden lean-to shelters stood there, and the snow was littered with gnawed animal bones. The spy--a fleeing Jackal--raced into the camp screeching a warning. Four
Ogres wearing studded leather armor sat by a campfire roasting a deer, and when they saw the frantic Jackal and the approaching riders, they seized huge clubs and leapt up. The four Ogres and nine Jackals charged toward the Blue Knights.
Lannon reached for his sword, then took out his Glaetherin throwing star instead. He wanted to test the weapon in combat.
The Jackals were swifter than the Ogres, and they reached the Knights first. One Jackal bounded through the air toward Shennen, its claws intent on shredding the Blue Knight's flesh, but Shennen's burning Flayer slashed a bitter wound into its throat. The Jackal toppled into the snow, bleeding its life away. Shennen's Greywind horse reared up into the air and then came down with both front hooves, inflicting further damage on the fallen Goblin.
Lannon hurled his throwing star at an approaching Jackal, speeding it along with the power of the Eye. The star blade flashed in the moonlight as it shot toward the Goblin. It ripped deep into the Jackal's chest, and the Jackal paused in its charge, looking confused. It howled in pain and rage, staggered, and then fell over.
Lannon summoned the throwing star back to his hand, but by the time he plucked it from the air with his fingers another Jackal had slammed into him. Lannon was knocked from his horse to the ground, and the throwing star flew from his hand and vanished beneath the snow.
Lannon looked up into the Jackal's snarling face, and then he shoved the powerful beast off of him and rose. He drew his sword. The Jackal bounded toward him, but Lannon seized the beast with the Eye and then beheaded it with a well-placed stroke.
Before the Blue Knights could finish off the Jackals, the four Ogres had reached them. One of the Blue Knights went down instantly--smashed from his horse by a massive club. He dropped to the snow like a stone, his bones crushed. The Ogre struck the fallen Knight again, ensuring that the unfortunate warrior's life was ended.
With a cry of rage, Shennen hurled his burning Flayer at the Ogre who'd slain the Knight, and it lodged in the giant's skull. The Ogre's humanoid face bore an expression of shock as it clawed at the long dagger. It turned and stumbled away, dropping its club. It paused for a moment, as if contemplating something, and then collapsed.
Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows Page 24
