Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1)

by Keller, Robert E.

  “But this is crazy!” said Lothrin. “I don’t have a son! I’m limited only to friendship with women. Therefore, how can I produce a son?”

  “Knights do retire and marry,” Lannon pointed out. That seemed the obvious answer, but that meant that Lothrin would have to keep himself alive for a long time—not always an easy task for a Divine Knight.

  “Yet that could be decades from now,” said Lothrin, “if it ever happens. Am I supposed to wait that long? Am I supposed to worry that I will fall in battle and my future son will never be born?”

  “I don’t have an answer,” said Jace. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Lothrin shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t worry about it? This is… I don’t even know where to begin. How can I not worry about it?”

  “The time isn’t right, obviously,” said Jace. “Are you still a Knight? Yes. Are you married? No. Therefore, how can you strive to produce a son? You cannot, and so this isn’t the time to worry about it. In fact, there is no guarantee you will even survive Knighthood to produce a son. You’re a mortal man, Lothrin, and can only do so much. So just relax and trust your god.”

  “Trust our god,” Lannon corrected.

  Jace shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I’m not exactly the religious sort, mind you. I do try to serve the side of good, however—which is why I’m here. Well, that and to earn a bit of money. Bear in mind I’m not actually a Divine Knight anymore and don’t have to obey your Sacred Laws.” He cleared his throat. “That aside, I’m always willing to listen to a superior being.”

  Lothrin sighed and rubbed his forehead. “This is all so unexpected. Suddenly I feel like I bear a great responsibility.”

  “Calm yourself, young man,” said Jace. “As I said, the time isn’t right for such concerns. Always stay relaxed, like I do. It’s good for the body.”

  But Jace didn’t look relaxed at all. He paced about and tried to puff at his pipe without it being lit. Confused, he glanced at the bowl, then fumbled around for some matches. He lit the pipe, then laid it on a rock without taking a puff. He sat down on a log, his eyes filled with contemplation over what he had witnessed.

  ***

  The celebration went on for a couple hours, as Knights wandered about the camp talking and laughing or sat with their backs against boulders or pines. Some drank a bit too much ale (in spite of being ordered not to by Aldreya) and dozed off by the fire. They felt like they had conquered the Soddurn Mountains, with the blazing crimson fire sending flame and spark high into the air as a warning to the servants of Tharnin to stay away. The smell of cooked bear meat lingered, mixed with pipe smoke and a strange, spicy scent that emanated from the bonfire and invoked nostalgic feelings within the Knights for Dremlock Kingdom.

  But not everyone was celebrating.

  Dallsa remained with Bekka in an attempt to heal her or at least diminish her suffering. Dallsa was weary and sad, her energy low from working too steadily at her task. She was in dire need of rest—barely able to stay awake as she sat in the back of the wagon—yet Bekka was in such a grim state from the evil that infested her body that Dallsa simply couldn’t leave her like that. No one else could help, though Lannon had Taith bring Dallsa food and water and whatever else she needed. Taith complained about having to serve, but he did as Lannon commanded and was careful and thorough in his tasks.

  Another Knight wasn’t celebrating—Vorden Flameblade. He stood apart from the others amongst the trees, once again holding his spiked shield. He bore a sullen expression and was not inclined to speak to anyone.

  At last, Lannon approached him. The two stood in the shadows beyond the firelight and feast—a cloaked Dark Watchman who wore no armor and a muscular Knight who looked like an armored wall.

  “What’s wrong?” Lannon asked, though he already knew the answer. Vorden was angry that they had ignored his advice and had chosen to celebrate.

  Vorden glared at him. His yellow eyes shone in the dark.

  “You should come back to camp,” said Lannon, “and eat something. The food is delicious. You should try Lothrin’s fried mushrooms.”

  “Why do you sorcerers like mushrooms so much?” asked Vorden. “I don’t care for them. I prefer meat and potatoes.”

  Lannon shrugged. “I never noticed that sorcerers in particular like mushrooms.” He considered it, then added, “Come to think of it, though, Jace and Aldreya both seem to love them. Hmm… I never actually used to like mushrooms until I arrived at Dremlock. They’re one of my favorite foods these days.”

  Vorden scowled. “Count me out.”

  “What about some bear meat?” asked Lannon. “Jace cooked it. The seasoning on it is amazing, though he won’t tell anyone what the ingredients are. He seems to think his recipes are important secrets.”

  Vorden shook his head. “My stomach would not allow it, Lannon. I know everyone is enjoying themselves—and maybe they should, considering what we’re facing on this mission. But I can’t be part of it. Not here. This place sickens me. These mountains are so infested with the Deep Shadow it seems to smother me. I feel short of breath, actually.”

  “I can’t say I know what you’re feeling,” said Lannon. “But I do sense the presence of Tharnin here, and it is ugly. I’m guessing that slumber will bring about some nasty dreams.”

  “It’s not just that,” said Vorden. “These mountains remind me of who I once was. The evil deeds of my past seem so fresh in my mind tonight. I still can’t believe or accept the fact that I brought so much suffering to the land. Don’t bother telling me it wasn’t my fault, that the Hand of Tharnin was using me. I still feel like a weakling for failing to free myself from it.”

  “Yet you are a Divine Knight,” said Lannon. “That says everything. If the High Council had believed you were even slightly responsible, you would have been thrown out of the Order. Obviously, Taris and the others have great faith in you. You still bear the scars of the Deep Shadow and yet you have earned the trust of the other Knights. That’s nothing short of astonishing.”

  “Save your praise, Lannon,” said Vorden. “It’s not going to help. Timlin is dead because of me, his soul tainted by Tharnin. I wonder if he can even find peace, or if he is cursed as a restless spirit like the Dark Watchmen.”

  “But it wasn’t you who killed Timlin,” Lannon pointed out. “I’m the one who has to live with that burden. I wanted to save him, but I failed.”

  Vorden shook his head. “Timlin was already hopelessly lost when you slew him, all thanks to me. I took control of his mind and set him on the path of doom. You only did what you had to do.”

  “No,” said Lannon. “Timlin burned the Red Candle at Dremlock. He made a choice to seek out the Blood Legion, before the Hand of Tharnin had any influence over him. He chose his own fate.”

  Vorden looked away. “Regardless, the darkness here will torture me every step of the way. There is nothing to be done about it.”

  Lannon patted him on the back. “Come and have some food.” With that, he returned to camp, feeling frustrated that he couldn’t help Vorden. Vorden’s scars ran deeper than Lannon could comprehend.

  ***

  Lannon arrived at the bonfire to find Lothrin upset. The Ranger had noticed that Prince Vannas was missing, and the festive mood had turned grim. They searched for the prince briefly and then decided he must have intentionally wandered off again. With the White Flamestone to guide Vannas, the others were not overly concerned. It seemed to be the will of the Divine Essence that Vannas leave camp from time to time to meditate on his abilities.

  Yet Lothrin remained agitated, as he spoke with Lannon and Aldreya. “What if he was abducted by servants of Tharnin?” he asked. “Maybe our Crimson Feast is the reason he is gone. Or perhaps the Lawkeeper and his warriors took him, and the White Flamestone now belongs to Bellis.”

  “Doubtful,” Aldreya replied, “considering what happened last time. It would be foolish for us to wander around in these mountains in the endless fog, when he pro
bably will return to camp on his own soon enough.”

  “I agree,” said Lannon. “We need to give him time.”

  “Yet I have a terrible feeling of dread,” said Lothrin. “It’s like a voice is whispering in my mind that Prince Vannas is in great peril.”

  “It could be the Deep Shadow,” said Aldreya, “seeking to trick us. Perhaps it wants to lure us away from camp.”

  “Or it could simply be my instincts,” said Lothrin. “Lannon, why don’t you at least lead a small party into the fog and search for his trail?”

  “It isn’t necessary,” said Aldreya. “We already know he is prone to leaving without warning. The wise response is to wait.”

  “Then I will go myself,” said Lothrin. He adjusted his bow and quiver of arrows. “I will attempt to track him down.”

  “It would be very difficult,” said Lannon, “with the dense fog. Even for a Ranger like you. You could get lost, and there might be more of those ghouls wandering about. I don’t want you to end up like Bekka.”

  Lothrin nodded. “Nevertheless, I will go…and risk the life of my future son if need be. My cousin needs me.”

  “No,” said Aldreya. “I order you to remain in camp.”

  Lothrin fixed a pleading gaze on Lannon. “As a friend, I’m asking you to lead a search party. Just until you find his trail. Then we will return. If anything evil took him, you should be able to sense it.”

  Lothrin seemed thoroughly convinced that something bad had happened to Prince Vannas. Lannon decided he shouldn’t ignore the Ranger’s instincts. “Very well,” he said. “I suppose we can do a brief search and make sure he left the camp alone. It’s a good idea, actually.”

  “Be careful out there,” said Aldreya.

  Lannon and Lothrin were joined by Jace, who also was worried about Prince Vannas. The three left camp and wandered off amongst the pines and boulders. Lannon probed the fog, and at last he located Vannas’ trail.

  The prince had left camp alone.

  “There you have it,” said Lannon. “Once again he simply wandered off. I guess all we can do is return to camp and await his return.”

  Lothrin nodded, but still looked doubtful.

  “Follow the trail, Lannon,” said Jace. “I want to see where it leads.”

  They went a bit further, and then Lannon caught a glimpse of something horrific—traces of a monstrous evil like nothing Lannon had ever encountered. Dark sorcery lingered like a poisonous fog before Lannon, and instead of one trail belonging to the prince leading into the mountains, there were now two trails—Vannas and the source of the evil magic.

  “Your face has gone pale, Lannon,” said Jace. “What do you see?”

  “What has become of my cousin?” asked Lothrin, seizing Lannon’s cloak.

  “We have a huge problem,” said Lannon, his heart sinking.

  ***

  “It should never have come to this,” said Aldreya, who stood with the others at the center of camp. The bonfire had died down some and was no longer crimson. The celebration was over, but instead of Knights slipping into their tents to sleep under warm quits, they stood in the chill air with gloom in their hearts, wondering if they were a bunch of fools.

  Everyone wondered if this was the end of Prince Vannas and Dremlock’s possession of the White Flamestone. If so, they would lose their primary weapon against Bellis Kingdom.

  “What were we thinking?” said Aldreya, her voice filled with disgust. “Why did we let Prince Vannas leave camp alone? I have no answer—except that perhaps we have been too sure of ourselves lately. Perhaps we have been arrogant and not fit to represent Ollanhar. Now our prince has fallen into the grasp of evil, and the White Flamestone has gone to our enemies.”

  “Yet what could we do?” said Lannon. “It seems the Divine Essence wanted the prince to wander alone—or at least it inspired him to do so. Also, once again no one saw him leave, so how could we have stopped him?”

  “I don’t understand,” said Lothrin. “Why would our god lead him astray and put him in such danger? It seems terribly foolish.”

  “The prince was likely in a trance,” said Jace. “The White Flamestone led him from camp, and we could not have prevented it. Under normal circumstances, Vannas would have been perfectly safe. But there is evil in these mountains that can challenge even the power of a god. The Divine Essence did not send Vannas into the hands of that evil. The prince went because he was compelled to go, regardless of the risks. This is sorcery at work, my friends, and sorcery cannot always be easily understood or controlled. No one is to blame for this.”

  But Aldreya looked dismayed. “No, I will take the blame. I made two dire mistakes this evening. I should not have allowed the Crimson Feast to proceed, and I should have ordered a Divine Shield be placed around the prince. Now I have jeopardized everything—the very future of our land.”

  “I sensed something like this was going to happen,” said Vorden, sounding bitter. “We enraged the Deep Shadow, and now we will have to go to war with it. These mountains torture my soul, reminding me constantly of what I endured when I was a slave to the Hand of Tharnin. All I wanted was to get through them as swiftly as possible—yet now we must journey into the darkest reaches of the Soddurn Mountains and make bloody war on our foes.”

  Aldreya bowed her head. “I am truly sorry.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself,” said Lannon, feeling as if he should defend her. “Since when have we lived in fear of angering the Deep Shadow? That has never been our way. And the issue with Vannas—well, none of us saw that coming. He must have been caught completely off guard.”

  “Blame the High Council of Dremlock,” said Daledus, “if someone must be blamed. They’re the ones who ordered Prince Vannas to come on this mission. He could have remained at Ollanhar instead, well defended. We cannot know why they chose to send him, but it seems like a foolish move in light of what has happened. They chose to risk everything to get this Green Flamestone.”

  “It was not a foolish decision,” said Jace. “The High Council knows that the White Flamestone alone—immensely powerful though it is—is probably not enough to defeat Bellis. It will take another Flamestone as well. This was a necessary gamble, but obviously things have turned sour for the time being.”

  “We can’t change what happened,” said Jerret, “so none of this talk matters. We’re going to have to track down the prince and face whatever foes we must face. And we need to act quickly. So who is going with me?”

  “Me, of course,” said Galvia, punching him lightly on the shoulder. The two Red Knights exchanged a smile, eager for combat.

  “I assume most of us are going,” said Aldreya. “Dallsa will have to take a break from assisting Bekka, as the prince might be wounded and in need of her skills. I want to leave our Knights here and at least one Council Member to guard the camp. That will leave the remaining Council Members alone to make the journey. A small party—but a formidable one.”

  “Is it wise,” asked Lannon, “to leave our Knights behind? We could find ourselves facing an army in these mountains.”

  “We need to protect the camp,” said Aldreya. “If we lose our wagons and our goods, our mission will be much more difficult. Also, we may have to rely on stealth to rescue the prince, and a large party makes stealth difficult.”

  Lannon was unable to find fault with her logic.

  “So who from the Council wishes to remain?” asked Aldreya.

  No one answered. They exchanged glances.

  “Then I will choose someone,” said Aldreya. She hesitated, then pointed at Galvia. “You are a born leader. I want you to stay and guard our camp, and command the Knights. If something should happen to us—if we fail to return—it will be up to you to go to Dremlock and report what happened.”

  Reluctantly, Galvia bowed.

  Jerret patted her on the back. “Sorry, Galvia. I guess you won’t be seeing any action on this night. Can’t say I envy you.”

  Galvia shrugged,
her broad face breaking into a smile. “Just make sure you kill an extra Goblin or two for me, Jerret.”

  “It will be my honor,” said Jerret. “I’ll have some stories to tell you over a mug or two of ale when I return.”

  Galvia leaned her war hammer against a pine tree and sighed. “I’m sure you will. Meanwhile, I guess I’ll…tend the fire. Or something.”

  “Can you look after Taith?” asked Lannon.

  “Of course,” said Galvia. “Though it’s past his bedtime and he will be going to sleep soon.” She gave Taith a hard stare. “Isn’t that right?”

  “I won’t be able to sleep,” said Taith. “Too much going on.” He gazed up at Lannon, his eyes wide. “What if you don’t come back?”

  “Fear not,” said Lannon, winking at him. “We will return.” He hesitated, then added, “But if for some reason we don’t, you will be taken to Dremlock to be trained as a Squire regardless.”

  Taith folded his arms across his chest and bowed his head, looking unhappy.

  Jerret and Galvia clasped hands. “Wish me luck,” Jerret said.

  She shook her head. “You won’t need any. What about me?”

  “You won’t need any either,” he said with a chuckle, “unless the boy proves too much for you.”

  Galvia waved dismissively. “Not a chance.”

  For an instant, Jerret hesitated, a somber look on his face. Then he said, “Goodbye, my friend.”

  Galvia pushed him away. “Enough talk. Go fight.”

  Chapter 12:

  The Trail of Darkness and Deception

  After Lannon and the others had rode out of camp, Galvia found herself pacing about restlessly in front of the bonfire. She was vaguely aware that Taith was watching her. The boy was sitting on a rock, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy. Galvia wondered why her, of all the Knights, had to be left at camp. Surely her friends were going to find themselves engaged in brutal combat and would need her skills to ensure victory. Recently, her abilities had reached a new level. She had mastered her rare gift of Fire, a form of sorcery unique to the Grey Dwarves. She was eager to put it to the test against the servants of Tharnin.