Daledus grinned. “This needs to be settled with fists.”
Jerret laughed. “Same old thing with these two.”
“Not again,” said Vorden, rolling his eyes in disgust.
“Enough of this nonsense,” said Aldreya. “Why can’t you two seem to get along? You aren’t Squires anymore but respected Knights of the Council of Ollanhar. You will both sit down and enjoy your lunch.”
Lothrin bowed and sat down. Prince Vannas hesitated, then took a seat in the grass. Yet they continued to glare at each other.
“Now that that’s finished,” said Jace, looking amused, “where was I?” He seemed deep in contemplation for a moment; then he shrugged. “I was going to say something brilliant, but I forgot what it was. Ah well. My lunch is getting cold anyway.”
“I’m not going through those mountains,” said Taith, gazing at Lannon and shivering. “It would be cruel to make me go.”
“We have no choice,” said Lannon. “Sorry, Taith.”
“We’re all going to die up there,” said Taith, his words full of grim certainty, and it was Lannon’s turn to feel chilled.
Many had vanished without a trace in the rugged peaks of the Soddurn Mountains—including a small army of Divine Knights sixty years before. The Knights had chased a powerful Goblin into the peaks, intent of finishing it off so it would cease to terrorize the land. The mountains apparently swallowed them up. Not even their bones were found.
“They’ll never find our bones,” said Taith, as if sensing Lannon’s thoughts. The lad curled up in the grass, eyes closed.
Lannon said nothing, his gaze lingering on the jagged peaks that rose up into the sky. They looked innocent enough from here, but the Soddurn Mountains were crawling with death. Taking this route was indeed a huge gamble.
“Is this a wise decision?” Bekka asked Aldreya. “Our mission has barely begun, yet we could suffer losses in those mountains.”
Aldreya hesitated before answering. Then she said, “I don’t know, but this is the fastest route to our goal. And I think we’re quite capable of defending ourselves against whatever awaits us up there.”
“Yet what exactly is our goal?” asked Bekka. “I know we’re going to an island, but where is it located? Will we be stopping anywhere along the way? I haven’t seen a worthy map. We haven’t discussed anything specific.” The tall, muscular warrior gazed down at Aldreya with deep concern. “Why all the secrecy?”
“We will eventually hold a meeting,” said Aldreya, as she walked away. And that was all she would say on the matter.
“Lannon,” asked Bekka, “can you answer my questions?”
“No,” said Lannon. But he didn’t much care what the answers were. He would go where they needed to go and do what must be done.
Bekka shook her head, bearing a troubled look. “You’re the High Watchman and have a right to know everything Aldreya knows, yet she keeps you in the dark. Shouldn’t you be demanding answers?”
“Birlote sorcerers are always like that,” said Lannon. “They hide things until they feel the truth should be revealed. I expect that from her.”
“May I speak freely?” asked Bekka, pulling Lannon aside where no one else could hear.
Lannon nodded.
“You’re somewhat of a spineless High Watchman,” said Bekka. “You’re letting Aldreya run everything. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
“I very much disagree,” said Lannon. He was somewhat annoyed at the harsh words. “We make decisions together, usually with help from the Council. But sometimes I let her handle things. My mind is often on other tasks.”
“Then maybe you’re not fit for the role, Lannon,” said Bekka. “It sounds like you tend to neglect your duties.”
“I do,” Lannon admitted. “Somewhat. But not entirely.”
Bekka’s eyes widened. “Somewhat? Sorry, but that’s not the attitude of someone I want being my leader. I expect better from you.”
Now Lannon was fully annoyed. “Then perhaps you should return to Dremlock, Bekka. No one is forcing you to stay on the Council.”
Bekka nodded. “I see. So I reveal my thoughts and you’re ready to toss me out. I guess I wasn’t allowed to speak freely after all.”
With a sigh, Lannon calmed himself. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re a valuable warrior and an important member of the Council. I listened to your words, and I will consider them.”
Bekka bowed. “That is all I ask. May I be excused?”
Lannon nodded, and she walked away.
He stood for a moment in the grass, contemplating what she had said. Her words made him weary. He didn’t want to deal with issues concerning his role on the Council—or anything even remotely similar. He wanted to spend his time adventuring and doing heroic deeds. Bekka took the business of the Council very seriously, and Lannon respected that—but anything with the word “official” attached to it bored him to tears. He was more than happy to let Aldreya and the others deal with all of that even if it made him appear spineless.
Lannon drew his blade, focusing his power into it. He stood motionless for a moment, charged with energy, letting it cleanse him of all his earthly burdens. Then he lashed out at a nearby rock, cleaving it in two. It felt good to wield his sword, even if it was just practice.
He glanced about, slightly embarrassed, but no one was watching. He sheathed his weapon. He felt better, but Bekka’s words still nagged at his mind. Politics left him no peace, but there was no escaping that burden.
Lannon would gladly face the terrors of the Soddurn Mountains over another argument concerning his duties.
***
After lunch, they rode on until dinner. The grass grew deeper and the soil turned boggy. The dense fog returned, rolling in from the mountains with a vengeance and obscuring everything—an unnatural fog that felt cold and evil against the skin. Ominous purple clouds gathered in the sky to the sound of thunder, and lightning split the air in the distance. They stopped to camp near some stone ruins marked by a towering and crumbling statue of a Grey Dwarf holding a battering ram in two hands. They set up their tents in the shadow of this ancient warrior, yet no one wanted to end up like Faindan Stillsword, and so they stayed away from the ruins. The Dwarf’s stone battering ram extended out over the camp, vines hanging from it—as if guarding Dremlock’s Knights from the lightning.
Once the horses were fed and the tents set up for the evening, the Knights noticed Prince Vannas was missing. A panic spread throughout the camp, and they began a frantic search for him in the fog. No one saw him depart, and this led to fears that he had been abducted by a servant of the Deep Shadow—perhaps some foul Goblin that had crept down from the mountains. Lothrin was especially distraught, blaming himself for not keeping close enough watch over the prince.
“How could he just vanish?” asked Lothrin. The lean Ranger’s face was pale, hinting at some deep fear he refused to reveal to the others.
“We will find him,” Lannon reassured him, though he wasn’t so certain. Dread gripped his heart, whispering to him that something was very wrong—almost like the voice of the Deep Shadow trying to cast doubt in his mind. The cold, clingy fog seemed to carry a message of doom for the Divine Knights.
They searched for an hour on foot—using every method at their disposal, including the Eye of Divinity. Although they located the prince’s trail, it ended abruptly at a small river—as if he had entered the rapidly flowing water and not emerged again. This led to speculation that he may have gone into the water to wash himself and then had somehow drowned.
Lannon again scanned the water and the grassland beyond, but could glimpse no trace of Prince Vannas or his dead body. He shook his head. “It’s almost like he has vanished completely from the world. I don’t understand.”
“His body could have been washed downstream,” said Bekka. “I suggest we move along the river.”
Another highly ranked Blue Knight—named Wreld Greendagger—knelt by the steam, his expression glum. “I’m not
ready to search for a body yet. No, our prince has to be alive! The White Flamestone would protect him.”
“I doubt it would save him from drowning,” said Bekka. “That is a fate that can happen to anyone—even a prince. When I was a child, my older brother drowned, and he was an excellent swimmer, strong and athletic. I always thought he was invincible. Yet something pulled him under—a strange current perhaps. There is no telling how deep this river gets in the middle.”
Wreld rose, his face hardened with determination. He was stocky for a Blue Knight, with a bald head and a youthful face. “I refuse to believe that Prince Vannas died in such a manner.”
Yet Lothrin looked deeply troubled. “Bekka is right, Wreld. Anyone can drown if they aren’t being careful—and my cousin has been distracted lately. I could easily see him doing something foolish.”
“You must try again, Lannon,” said Vorden, as he paced back and forth. “He has to be around here somewhere…unless he was taken to that fortress in the mountains that Jace spoke of. I pray that’s not the case.”
Lothrin shuddered. “He might be better off drowned than to end up in a place like that. At least he would be at peace.”
“Regardless,” said Lannon, “I cannot find him. The water has washed away all traces of him, apparently.” Nevertheless, he tried again—and failed.
“You found me quick enough,” Taith pointed out. The boy was standing by the river, skipping stones across it.
“That was different,” said Lannon.
“Why?” asked Taith.
“I don’t know,” said Lannon, gripped by frustration. “Sometimes a person’s trail is easier to find. Sometimes the Deep Shadow can cloak the landscape and hide things. There is much about it I don’t understand and never will.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Taith. “I guess that means I will end up like you and not know what I’m doing half the time.”
Lannon had no reply for that.
“You’re doing your best, Lannon,” said Jace. “The Eye is always unpredictable, and many forces can interfere with it.”
“If only there was a way to be rid of this blasted fog,” said Daledus. “The prince could be very close to us, lying dead or injured, and we still wouldn’t see him. The Deep Shadow seeks to cloak everything in confusion.”
“If he was that close,” said Aldreya, “I’m confident Lannon would find him. Therefore, he must have traveled beyond the range of the Eye—perhaps through the river to hide his tracks. He could have walked a great distance in the shallow water by the bank—perhaps for miles.”
“Why would my cousin want to hide from us?” asked Lothrin. “Are you suggesting his mind has been claimed by the Deep Shadow?”
“That’s always a possibility,” said Aldreya. “Or something might have caused him to flee, perhaps to protect the rest of us.”
“Aldreya is right,” said Jace. “Even the prince is not immune to Tharnin. It can creep into a strong mind and lead one astray. I have seen it many times during the two centuries I have been alive. It doesn’t necessarily mean he is lost forever. It could just as easily mean he is simply being led to his captivity or death and could still be saved. If we can find him in time…”
“This is a wretched turn of events,” said Galvia. “Tharnin must not be allowed to gain possession of the White Flamestone.”
Lothrin’s eyes narrowed. “That, and I don’t want my cousin to die. This isn’t just about a Flamestone. A human life is at stake.”
“Of course,” said Galvia. “I’m as concerned as you are about him, Lothrin.” The young Dwarf’s smooth face reddened a bit, and she stepped over to Lothrin and squeezed his shoulder. “We will find him.”
“Not standing around talking, we won’t,” Jerret muttered. He stood with sword in hand, looking both helpless and restless. “I’m with Wreld on this. I don’t believe the prince simply drowned. I think an enemy took him.”
“We need some wise ideas,” said Jace, “so we can refine our search. Otherwise, we could wander until dark in this fog and more of us could get lost. We could end up straying far from camp and much time could be wasted.”
The moments drifted by with Jace’s pipe smoke.
“The wise ideas, Jace?” Aldreya reminded him.
Jace smiled. “Why don’t you ever call me Uncle Jace anymore? Are you too important and grown up, now that you’re the Green Knight of Ollanhar? You used to be my favorite Squire, and we got along so well—just like uncle and niece. It was a beautiful thing, really. I miss that, you know. Now you seem so…well, so much like a Birlote, and so distant to me.” He gave a huge sigh.
Aldreya looked away, seemingly a bit embarrassed. “I’m not a child anymore, Jace. And we have a potential disaster on our hands, so let’s stay focused on the important topic. So again—about those wise ideas?”
“Wise ideas,” Jace mused, blowing pipe smoke at her and making her cough. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any. I was hoping someone else did.”
Looking frustrated, Aldreya glanced about at the others.
“I can lead a small group through the fog,” said Lannon. “We can search until dark, and if we don’t find him…return to camp I suppose. We’ll start by traveling along the river.”
“Count me in,” said Lothrin.
“Of course,” said Lannon.
“You’ll need warriors,” said Jerret, “in case you find trouble. Daledus, Galvia, Vorden, and I can handle that part of it.”
Lannon nodded. “Aldreya, Dallsa, and Bekka should return to camp, though. I don’t think it’s wise to have the entire Council of Ollanhar wandering around in the fog and neglecting our campsite.”
Bekka’s face held a look of disappointment. “I understand.”
Lannon realized what she was thinking, and he said, “Actually, why don’t you come along too, Bekka? You’re as good a fighter as anyone.”
“Prince Vannas might be injured,” said Dallsa. “A healer could be needed.”
“I guess we’ll all go,” said Lannon.
“No,” said Aldreya. “I will return to the camp with the rest of the Knights. If you do not return by nightfall, we will search for you in the morning.”
Lannon bowed, and they set off.
***
Desperate to find their missing prince, Lannon and the Knights roamed for miles through the foggy grassland. Utterly soaked, cold, and miserable, they splashed along through mud and water behind their leader, calling out the prince’s name repeatedly. With no response from the prince, it was left to the power of the Eye to locate him—yet they soon had a sinking feeling that Vannas wasn’t just going to be found in the vast and seemingly empty expanse of slop. At last daylight began to slip away, and they returned to camp with the bad news.
Yet moments after they entered camp, Prince Vannas wandered in. The lean Birlote was soaked and muddy, with scratches on his face. His silver hair hung in tangles, partially obscuring his face. His expression was strange and distant, and he was holding the Flamestone in his cupped hands. He gazed at the others passively for a moment, as they swarmed around him, and then he smiled.
“Glad to be back,” said the prince.
“Where have you been?” Aldreya demanded. She explained how they had searched for him extensively.
“I was just out for a walk,” said Vannas. “I wanted to be alone, to meditate on the White Flamestone.” He paused, then added, “I am seeking to unlock its deepest secrets.” His voice sounded odd—almost evil—as if spoken from someone else’s throat. “There is nothing more I can tell you.”
“This is a disgrace,” said Lothrin. “You had all of us worried that the Deep Shadow had claimed you. Now you come wandering in as if nothing is out of the ordinary. We’re wet, cold, and tired from searching for you. Why didn’t you at least warn us you were leaving?”
“Sorry,” Vannas mumbled.
“That’s not good enough,” said Aldreya. “I’m very disappointed in your behavior, Prince Vannas.
” She took a deep breath and then let it out. “Therefore, I am confining you to our camp. You cannot leave without permission.”
The prince eye’s widened. “You’re treating me as if I am a child, Aldreya. This is shameful and arrogant on your part.”
“You’re behaving like a child,” said Lothrin, stepping close to his cousin. “And causing the rest of us a lot of grief in the process.”
Vannas shoved Lothrin away. “I’m about done with you, cousin. Next time you get that close to me, I will break your nose.”
Daledus grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Lothrin frowned. “You will break my nose? Apparently you’ve forgotten my skill at fighting, my good prince. You may have the Flamestone, but you know that engaging me in battle would be folly.”
Vannas shrugged. He adjusted his silk tunic. “Try it, and then bleed from a broken nose. That’s all I have to say on the matter.”
The two lean Birlote warriors stared each other down, their hands knotted into fists—the elite prince and the simple Ranger.
“No one is breaking anyone’s nose,” said Lannon, with a sigh. “Prince Vannas, it was wrong of you to make us search for you and have everyone worried. You must realize that. I think Aldreya’s punishment is fair.”
“Thank you, Lannon,” said Aldreya.
“Actually,” said Jerret, “I would like to break Prince Vannas’ nose.” The hulking Knight slammed his fist into his palm. “I’m dripping wet and hungry because of his foolishness. And he put the White Flamestone—and our whole mission—in jeopardy by wandering off alone.”
“Agreed,” said Vorden, with a look of disgust. “Prince Vannas, you should know better than that. You used very poor judgment.”
The prince shrugged. “None of you understand. I was called upon by the Divine Essence to go forth and learn—and I will do it again if called upon.” He was lost in thought for a moment, then said, “You see, I have only begun to scratch the surface concerning the power locked within the White Flamestone. There is so much more to be discovered. I have always used it purely to unleash destruction, yet the White Flamestone is unique in that it can do many things besides hurl fire. I believe it can also be used effectively as a shield, though the technique is very difficult to master. The Divine Essence is showing me what I need to know.”
Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) Page 16
