“If it’s not Glaetherin,” said Vorden, “it will melt.”
Lannon turned away in frustration. “I don’t know what else to say. You’re not in any shape to do more exploring, and neither am I, actually. And if you won’t see a healer, than at least get some rest.”
Lannon started toward the door, but when he heard no footsteps behind him, he paused and turned. “Are you coming?”
Vorden lifted the spiked shield. He gazed at it in the torchlight, tracing his finger over the Birlote runes that encircled its edge. He poked at one of the spikes. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I guess.”
“Are you going to make it?” asked Lannon, his concern growing by the moment. Each step seemed to cause Vorden terrible pain.
“That demon struck a rather stout blow.” Vorden smiled. “Where’s a good shield when you need one?”
“Right in your hand,” said Lannon. “Just don’t melt it.”
Chapter 5:
The Lawkeeper and His Bitter Tongue
The next morning, Vorden was still in rough shape. Dallsa took him into her care, bringing him food and water. However, Vorden would not allow her to examine or treat his wound, even though he was running a very high fever and seemed to be in intense pain. Everyone at Ollanhar was deeply concerned. Based on Lannon’s description of the battle, they knew Vorden had received a wound that would have killed a lesser Knight instantly. Dallsa was afraid that malicious sorcery might have invaded Vorden’s flesh and was continuing to do damage, but Vorden dismissed her concern, pointing out that he was already infested with dark sorcery and that a little more of it wouldn’t harm him.
Lannon, on the other hand, was feeling much better physically. As the morning sun cast its golden light over the tower grounds, he stood beneath the ancient apple tree that was still wet from the dew. He blamed himself for Vorden’s condition and vowed that in the future he alone would explore Ollanhar Tower. Only a Dark Watchman was meant to venture into the forbidden places and unlock the secrets of the keep. He told himself that he had been a fool for taking Vorden on such an adventure.
Dallsa emerged from the tower and approached, shaking her head in frustration. “Why does Vorden have to be so stubborn? He’s risking his life to prove a point, and…well…it’s just stupid.”
Lannon nodded. She was right, but there was nothing to be done about it. Lannon had given up on trying to reason with Vorden.
“You seem calm,” she said, “considering the situation.” She glared at him. “Why are you always so calm, Lannon?”
Lannon brushed a leaf from his cloak, and said nothing. He wanted to be alone. He was calm because he had trained himself to be calm, because being a Divine Knight and a Dark Watchman required great mental focus. He had learned to keep his emotions in check and put duty ahead of everything else, so that fear and other blinding forces would not disrupt his clarity. Dallsa, however, had not yet been properly trained, and her emotions often ran wild.
She pressed close to him. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her round, pale face was inches from his own. “What was Vorden doing down there, anyway? I thought that area was forbidden to anyone but you. That was a rule established by you and Aldreya.”
She was close enough Lannon thought she might try to kiss him. He turned away. “I don’t know. I wish I hadn’t taken him down there. I felt sorry for him because he doesn’t have a suitable weapon. I thought we might find one.”
“You risked his life for a weapon?” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “That’s not like you, Lannon.”
Lannon pulled away from her and leaned against the apple tree. “You’re right. What can I say? I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“What can’t I give you a hug?” she asked, looking annoyed. “Aren’t you my friend?”
“We’re definitely friends,” said Lannon, feeling uncomfortable. “But the Sacred Laws…”
“What about them?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Are you trying to say I want more than just friendship?”
“Kind of,” he admitted. He was guessing his face had gone red.
She frowned. “And what if that were true?”
“The Sacred Laws forbid it, Dallsa,” he said sternly. “Therefore, it would be impossible.”
She gazed at him for a moment, then nodded. “You’ll never break the Sacred Laws. At least, not for something like…” She sighed. “I know you too well. You’re way too stubborn for that.” There was a hint of pain in her eyes.
Dallsa did know him well. Lannon would not break the Sacred Laws for Dallsa, even though he had broken those laws before. He had matured since then, and his belief in Dremlock and Ollanhar was too important to him. In fact, it bothered him that she had even considered such a thing.
“Are you happy with your life,” Lannon asked. “As a healer?”
“Yes,” she said. “And no, I wasn’t intending to break the Sacred Laws. I just…wanted to know where you stood.”
“But you already knew,” he pointed out.
“Yes,” she said, and again there was a hint of pain in her eyes. “But I needed to hear you say it. Now I’ll just forget about it.”
“Can you?” he asked.
She gazed back defiantly. “I can, and I will.”
Lannon let the issue rest and examined the apple tree, with its mossy trunk and sprawling branches that hung low and touched the ground. This tree had once been thoroughly infested with the Deep Shadow, but Dallsa had worked tirelessly at freeing it and some of the evil sorcery had diminished. Strength and wholesomeness was returning to the tree once again, and perhaps eventually it would bear delicious fruit that one could eat without fear of being infected by darkness. The Birlotes had planted this tree, and it was special—able to live for centuries. The fruit had once contained healing properties, filling the body with vigor.
Lannon patted the trunk. “I could use a good apple right now.”
“Me too,” said Dallsa, pinching his arm. “But if I may have your attention, High Watchman, a visitor just entered the grounds. And he looks to be from Bellis Kingdom.”
***
The man who approached—a sour-faced Birlote—was well over six-feet tall and dressed in an extravagant crimson cloak with gold trim. He walked with a slight limp, dragon cane in hand. His silver hair stuck up in odd spikes, and his facial features were devilish even by Birlote standards. His skin was somewhat pale for a Tree Dweller. He carried a leather satchel under one arm. He was flanked by four Guardians—the Golden Knights of Bellis—and twelve warriors armed with deadly crossbows that fired exploding arrows. Two Thallite giants—each over ten-feet tall and defended by stout crimson armor—walked at the rear, holding banners that displayed the Crest of Bellis. It was an impressive force.
The leader strode up to Lannon with such vigor that Lannon’s hand instinctively tightened around his sword hilt. But the newcomer only glared down at him and said, “I’m seeking the Green Knight of Ollanhar or the High Watchman.”
Lannon introduced himself.
He gazed at Lannon with utter disdain. “I am the Lawkeeper of Bellis. My name is Karlus. I request a meeting be held at once.”
Dallsa opened her mouth to say something, but Lannon gave her a warning nudge. “Meetings are usually scheduled in advance.”
The Lawkeeper nodded. “We sent a bird bearing the request.”
“It never arrived,” said Lannon, a shadow of dread settling over him. Why had Bellis sent such mighty warriors to Ollanhar? Was this a prelude to another war? Four Guardians and two Thallites suggested the situation was at least extremely serious. It also suggested Bellis was anticipating a possible fight. But why? What news could Bellis deliver that would lead to such a conflict?
“That’s not my problem,” said the Lawkeeper. “I came a long way to meet with the Council of Ollanhar. Are you turning me away?” His tone of voice promised doom if Lannon refused him.
It’s not mine, eithe
r, Lannon thought. But instead he merely shrugged. “We can hold a meeting. I will gather the Council.”
“Our horses are in the trail,” said the Lawkeeper. “I request that they be given a stable and tended to properly. Also, there are valuables in our packs. I would be most displeased if they came up missing.”
Dallsa’s face reddened with anger. “No one is going to steal your valuables. We’re not thieves.”
The Lawkeeper ignored her. “What say you, Sunshield?”
Lannon nodded. Rudeness would only work against him. “I’ll send someone to look after your horses. Meanwhile, you can come inside for food and drink.” He glanced at the two giants. “Unfortunately, our tower isn’t designed for guests as large as those Thallites…”
The Lawkeeper’s face was stony. “They can stand.”
***
The only members of the Council of Ollanhar present for the meeting were Aldreya, Lannon, Dallsa, and Jerret. Early that morning, Furlus had taken the others on a mission to investigate claims of a Goblin attack on a nearby village and it was not known when they would return. Vorden, of course, remained in his bedchamber, still deeply wounded.
They gathered in the Entrance Chamber, where Dallsa served drinks and snacks. The Lawkeeper seemed impatient, wanting to get on with the discussion. His Knights and Thallite Giants filled the room, muscular warriors adorned with gleaming weapons and armor, their faces cold in the sunlight that streamed in through the windows. Also present was a scribe. They all stood like statues while the Lawkeeper sat at the table indulging in wine and cheese.
“Have some food and drink,” said Lannon, to the scribe and the warriors. He motioned for them to sit.
“It is not allowed,” said the Lawkeeper. “Our kingdom is not like Dremlock. Our warriors follow a strict and precise routine that they do not deviate from unless forced to. They will eat later.”
“If they must,” said Lannon, feeling grateful he wasn’t a Knight of Bellis. “There is plenty of food and drink, though.”
The Lawkeeper gave a mocking smile. “Yes, the Divine Knights love to indulge and make merry. Softens both the will and the belly.”
Jerret tapped his stomach. “Hard as stone, Lawkeeper.” He gazed at the Lawkeeper with open contempt.
“But no brain inside the skull, barbarian,” came a whisper from Bellis’ Knights. That prompted some grins and quiet laughter.
Jerret rose from his chair, hand on his broadsword. Aside from the Thallite Giants, he was the largest and most muscular warrior in the room. He gazed at Bellis’ elite fighters. “Who speaks?”
No one answered. Sneering, Jerret sat down again.
The Lawkeeper waved at Jerret dismissively. “I have no time to debate the differences in our kingdoms.” He sipped at his wine, looking displeased with the flavor, and then motioned Lannon to sit. “Let us proceed.”
Reluctantly, Lannon sat down. He was hoping the others would return in time for the meeting. He especially wanted Furlus present. Furlus was second in command at Dremlock and would know how to deal with a fellow like this Lawkeeper. Also, Ollanhar Tower was nearly deserted, and with some of Bellis’ mightiest warriors crowded into the room, Lannon was left feeling a bit nervous. Aldreya’s face was stony, but he sensed she was anxious as well.
“I shall get right to the point,” said the Lawkeeper.
“Before you do that,” said Lannon, “would you prefer to wait for a bit? Furlus and the others should be back before long.” In truth, Lannon had no idea how long Furlus would be gone, but he wanted to give the Tower Master a chance to return. If this meeting was as important as Lannon suspected it was, then Dremlock Kingdom would need to be directly involved.
“I suggest we wait,” said Aldreya.
The Lawkeeper plopped his satchel onto the table. “Waiting does not appeal to me. I have a very long journey ahead. Are the two of you not in charge here?”
“We are the leaders,” said Aldreya.
“And do you represent both Ollanhar and Dremlock?” he went on. He lit up a pipe, took a puff, and made a gagging noise.
“To some degree,” said Aldreya. “But we are not on the High Council of Dremlock. We do not speak for the Divine Kingdom. If you want Dremlock to be a part of this, you’ll have to wait for Furlus.”
“Is this your best tobacco?” the Lawkeeper asked. “I find it appalling! Is this some wretched Olrog smoke? Or even worse, Norack leaf?”
“Norack,” Lannon replied. “The best we have, currently.”
The Lawkeeper glowered. “Is this how you treat respectable guests? The wine is bland, the cheese worthy of contempt, and the tobacco enough to choke a man with its foul aura. I am extremely disheartened, and the discussion has yet to begin. If you want this tiny kingdom to be taken seriously, you need to make some major improvements. At the moment, Ollanhar is simply pathetic.”
“Pathetic?” Anger gripped Lannon. “Is that why Bellis sends four Guardians, two Thallites, and a number of elite Knights?”
“Calm yourself, Lannon,” Aldreya whispered in his ear.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled back.
The Lawkeeper pounded the table with his fist, spilling his wine. “Serving girl!” he bellowed. “Clean up this mess!”
Dallsa’s teeth clenched in anger.
“Take care of it, Dallsa,” Aldreya commanded.
Reluctantly, she did as ordered. She poured him more wine and plopped it down. “Anything else, your lordship?” Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. When the Lawkeeper didn’t respond, she sat down.
“By the way, your lordship,” said Dallsa, ignoring a warning glance from Aldreya, “since I am on the Council of Ollanhar and not just your average serving girl, I think I better refrain from fetching drinks for the remainder of the meeting so I can pay attention to the discussion and record it properly!” She slammed a stack of papers down before her and began writing on them furiously.
The Lawkeeper raised an eyebrow as he gazed at her. “You are a strange one. If you have nothing important to say, perhaps you can keep quiet.” He turned his gaze toward Lannon. “I see you lack proper servants as well—and a proper scribe.”
Lannon shrugged. “We do what we can here.” He didn’t bother to explain that Ollanhar’s servants were currently busy in town or that Dallsa often volunteered to perform duties such as cooking, delivering messages, record keeping, or serving drinks when she wasn’t required to do so.
The Lawkeeper ran his fingers through his spiked hair, looking dismayed. “Perhaps King Verlamer has overestimated Ollanhar, in which case I am utterly wasting my time. Nevertheless, we shall proceed.” He removed a scroll from his satchel and opened it for Lannon to see. “Do you recognize this?”
Lannon nodded. “It’s the agreement I signed concerning my duel with King Verlamer. I have my own copy.” He read it again anyway:
Honorable Duel
Participants: Verlamer the Just (King of Bellis) and Lannon Sunshield (Divine Knight of Dremlock and famed Dark Watchman).
Location: The North Tower Courtyard, Dremlock Kingdom.
Time and date: Noon, 1219, Year of the Hawk
Until death, submission, or inability to rise.
Rewards:
King Verlamer’s life and Lannon Sunshield’s goods and, if slain, his remains.
The liberation of Lannon Sunshield’s Kingdom of Dremlock, including the return of all seized items, for an indefinite time period (provided that Dremlock not interfere with the affairs of Bellis).
Signed… Verlamer the Just
Signed… Lannon Sunshield
“Does Dremlock honor this agreement?” asked the Lawkeeper. “A simple question that demands a simple answer. Yes, or no?”
“Yes,” said Lannon.
“Yes,” said Aldreya.
“Indeed.” The Lawkeeper looked amused. “Then why is Dremlock seeking to expand into territories owned by Bellis?”
“I wasn’t aware,” said Aldreya, “that Bellis owned any land in t
his region. Ollanhar Tower has always belonged to Dremlock.”
“King Verlamer disputes that,” said the Lawkeeper. He opened one his thick books and proceeded to read a few complex passages regarding kingdom law that Lannon didn’t understand. He jammed his finger against the page periodically as he read, as if pointing out some fact that could not be disputed.
Aldreya listened carefully but said nothing.
“Sounds like a bunch of sly statements,” Jerret muttered, “designed to support Verlamer’s tyranny. “Why should Ollanhar care what your book says, Lawkeeper? We don’t follow Bellis’ rules.”
The Lawkeeper snapped the book shut and slammed it down. “These laws are ancient and have proven themselves sound again and again throughout the ages. But I wouldn’t expect a common warrior to understand that. I would, however, expect someone to understand it who holds the title of High Watchman—or a Birlote from the Royal Family of Borenthia.”
“I understand it well enough,” said Aldreya. “There is some truth there—but it has been twisted in favor of your kingdom, either deliberately or by careless misinterpretation.”
“That’s your opinion, Green Knight,” said the Lawkeeper. “Others throughout Gallamerth do not share that view.”
“Because they’re enslaved,” said Jerret.
The Lawkeeper scowled. “Hardly. They have never been more liberated. Regardless, I have done my best to convince you—in the clearest manner possible.” He rested his hand on the book and sighed.
“But what does it mean?” asked Lannon, yawning. “In simple terms.” Lannon knew very little about the laws of the land. His recent official appointment as High Watchman had come as a surprise. In fact, such topics bored him deeply. But he didn’t want to appear lazy or disinterested to this arrogant Lawkeeper.
The Lawkeeper raised a silver eyebrow, apparently surprised at Lannon’s lack of comprehension. “Simply that King Verlamer rightfully interprets this agreement to mean that Dremlock must stay on its mountain and stay out of Bellis’ affairs. By occupying this tower, you have invaded land claimed by Bellis. Therefore, you are interfering with our affairs. Thus, the expansion is not legal.”
Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) Page 8
