Knights: The Blood of Kings (Knights Series)

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Knights: The Blood of Kings (Knights Series) Page 27

by Robert E. Keller


  Taris yanked the door open and stepped inside, his stone dagger burning white hot and blinding to look upon.

  The others followed, including Galvia and Jerret.

  Aldreya turned to the two Red Knights and motioned them back. "You heard Taris. Only Blue Knights--"

  She was interrupted by the sounds of battle, and she whirled around to find the others engaged in combat with the Golden Knights. Jerret and Galvia shoved past her and charged into the room. Daledus entered next, barreling into her and knocking her further into the room. He yanked the door shut.

  A Guardian charged at Lannon, but the Dark Watchman kept his sword sheathed. Lannon knew how to deal with these foes from past experience. Lannon stepped back and dodged a sword stroke aimed at his neck. He then seized the sword hilt and ripped the weapon from the Guardian's hand. Lannon hurled the blade aside, then grabbed the Golden Knight's neck and yanked him to his knees. Meanwhile, Shennen got behind the Guardian and swiftly unlatched the helm.

  The Guardian punched Lannon in the abdomen--hard enough that the breath was driven from him. It had been a short, awkward punch, but the impact from the armored fist was still enough to make him feel like his midsection had just been caved in. Nevertheless, Lannon refused to let go.

  As Shennen worked at the helm, chills crept over Lannon. He didn't want to see the face that lay under there. Nevertheless, as the helm came off he gazed at the reptilian horror beneath. Its snake-like eyes--which were only inches away from Lannon's eyes--sought to hypnotize Lannon into submission, but he resisted. Then Shennen beheaded the creature from behind, the tip of his Flayer coming uncomfortably close to Lannon's chin.

  Lannon rose and stood clutching his abdomen, trying to get his breath back before he was forced to fight again.

  Meanwhile, Taris slew one foe with a massive fireball that struck a Guardian in the chest and exploded into buzzing sparks that clung to the golden armor. The sparks generated so much heat the others shrank back. The Guardian burned to ash inside his armor, and the empty, smoking armor toppled to the floor. As the sparks buzzed around, fizzling out, Lannon was forced to roll out of the way of one that flew at his chest. Still winded, he lay gasping for breath on the floor. One of the dying sparks landed in Daledus' beard and lit it on fire. With a howl, the dwarf smothered the flames with his arms as he ran in a random direction and ended up tripping over Lannon and falling into an iron bench, knocking it crooked.

  Jace bashed one of the Guardians on the helm with his fist, and the warrior seemed to go mad, staggering about and lashing out wildly with his sword. Jerret ducked a crazed swing and hacked at the wounded Guardian with his broadsword, but the weapon only glanced off. Another wild stroke split Jerret's armor and ripped a deep gash in his shoulder, causing him to bellow in pain. Galvia charged in to help, driving her blazing hammer down on the Guardian's helm. That vicious blow, along with the one Jace had inflicted, dropped the Golden Knight to the floor. Lothrin knelt and swiftly unlatched the helm, and then Aldreya hurled a fireball into the creature's face. To make sure it was dead, Jerret beheaded it.

  Vorden was left facing a Guardian on his own. The Squire had donned his helm, and like the warrior he faced, he was engulfed in nearly impenetrable armor. The two fighters' swords clashed together several times, and then Vorden shoved the warrior against the wall hard enough to crack a stone block. Vorden's sword blazed crimson with sorcery, and little shadows moved back and forth along it like spiders creeping across the strands of webs. As the swords clashed again, Vorden's blade cut through the Golden Knight's blade. The Guardian dropped the severed sword and attacked with his armored fist, but Vorden again shoved him back--and this time Vorden's glowing blade lashed out and cut through the armor and deep into the Guardian's neck. The Guardian dropped to the floor and lay still.

  For a moment, Vorden stood as still as a statue--as if stunned at the way he'd dispatched his foe. He gazed at his glowing sword.

  Another Guardian lunged at Vorden from behind, knocking off his helm with an uppercut. Vorden whirled around--but he was a bit too slow in blocking a sword stroke. Vorden managed to partially block the blade with his forearm, but it tore a gash in his neck. As blood poured from the wound, the fire died in Vorden's blade. Nevertheless, he pushed forward and drove the Guardian back.

  Shennen and another Blue Knight (named Bekka Nightspear) moved to assist Vorden and tried to remove the Guardian's helm. Shennen distracted the foe while Bekka leapt on the Guardian's back and pulled at the latches. As Vorden retreated, clutching his bleeding neck, the other Blue Knight--Zander Hawkborn--rushed over to help but failed to watch his flank. Despite a cry of warning from Bekka, a golden sword pierced his heart and he was killed instantly.

  With a cry of frustration, Bekka continued pulling at the latches. Meanwhile, another Guardian broke free of Jace's grasp and charged her--his sword poised to stab her in the back. Lannon seized the Guardian with the Eye and froze him for a moment, while Lothrin raced over and kicked the Guardian in the head with a spectacular, flying leap that knocked the warrior to the floor. Lothrin tried to plunge his dagger into the golden helm's eye holes, but something unseen deflected it. He then tried to stab through the creases in the armor--again to no avail. He leapt away, shaking his head in amazement, as the Guardian rose again.

  But Taris Warhawk was ready. He hurtled forward and shoved his hand against the Guardian's helm, and the warrior shuddered beneath his grasp. A greenish glow engulfed Taris' body--a glow that typically was only seen radiating from a Birlote Wizard--and smoke poured out of the helm. When the glow faded, Taris shoved the dead Guardian to the floor.

  Yet the sorcerer suddenly looked weary, his energy momentarily depleted. The fire in his blade went from white to a weaker green.

  Daledus and a Guardian charged each other. Daledus was in a fit of berserk rage, his beard partially burned away and still releasing thin wisps of smoke. He delivered a chilling battle cry as he charged. The Dwarf's oversized axe smashed into the Guardian's sword and dislodged it from the warrior's hand with a clanging of metal. The Guardian responded by ripping Daledus' axe away and tossing it behind the Altar. The Guardian struck with his gauntlet-covered fist--a glancing blow to Daledus jaw that staggered the Dwarf. With a roar, Daledus struck back--punching the warrior in his golden helm and knocking him flat onto his back.

  Daledus rubbed his knuckles, as the Guardian rose. They then grappled for a moment--the mighty Dwarf against the large, muscular warrior who possessed inhuman strength. They squeezed each other viciously, and neither gave way. Finally they broke apart, panting--though Daledus looked to be in pain.

  "This one is mine!" Daledus shouted to the others.

  Dwarf and Guardian grappled again, and both went down to the floor. The Guardian sought to get hold of Daledus' exposed neck, while Daledus looked for any weakness in that Golden armor. Neither succeeded.

  Trenton ignored Daledus' statement and rushed over to unlatch the Guardian's helm, yanking it away to expose the hissing reptile beneath. He raised his slender sword for the kill, but Daledus got in the way.

  Daledus' meaty fist crashed down onto the reptilian face. The snake eyes' hypnotic power had no effect on the enraged Dwarf, and with two vicious blows that hit like battering rams, the Daledus knocked the creature unconscious. Meanwhile, Trenton retrieved Daledus' axe and tossed it to him.

  Daledus rose, then drove the axe down for the kill.

  The battle was over, but a Blue Knight was dead and Vorden and Jerret had significant injuries. Lannon's abdomen hurt when he breathed.

  Shennen and Bekka laid Zander Hawkborn's body on the altar and stood with heads bowed for a moment. Then they left him there.

  ***

  Vorden managed to get the bleeding stopped in his neck, and he sat down on a bench, keeping cloth pressed to the wound as he worked on it with his healing energy. They didn't have a White Knight with them, but Aldreya possessed some minor healing skills and offered to help.

  "I'm fine,
" Vorden said in a sullen voice. "I will heal on my own. It's my fault anyway for not keeping track of my foes, and the wound really isn't that bad. It's just bleeding a lot." He gazed at his sword, which lay across his knees, and his face bore a haunted expression.

  "Are you sure?" asked Aldreya, concerned that Vorden was downplaying the extent of the injury. A neck wound was nothing to be ignored.

  But Vorden only glared at her. "Yes, very sure. I don't want to talk. Just let me focus on healing before the next battle begins."

  "I wouldn't mind some help," Jerret said. The wound in his shoulder was ugly, the bleeding difficult to contain. Aldreya moved to assist him.

  Taris seemed to be fighting against pain and exhaustion, but as usual, he voiced no complaint and showed no emotion over it.

  "Are you okay, Master Taris?" Aldreya asked him.

  "I will endure," said Taris. "I still have some fight left in me."

  "So that was King Verlamer's big ambush?" said Daledus, kicking at the creature he'd slain. "To send a few of these monsters after us?"

  "Hardly," said Jace, sitting down on an iron bench to catch his breath. "The king has more Guardians he could have sent after us. Why use only six?"

  "Indeed," said Taris. "Don't forget that Verlamer also commands the Thallites. He could have prepared a much greater ambush for us."

  The remaining Knights and Prince Vannas entered the temple. They were dismayed to see that Zander Hawkborn was dead. Vannas muttered under his breath, still angry he'd been left out of the fight.

  "Zander was trying to assist me," Bekka explained, deep sorrow in her voice. "He fought by my side many times. He will be greatly missed."

  "He was a fine Blue Knight," said Shennen.

  After Aldreya was done bandaging Jerret's wound, she took Jerret and Galvia aside and chastised them for ignoring Taris and joining in the battle. The two Red Knights protested, pointing out that they had fought well, but Aldreya would hear none of it. "Show some respect for Taris," she said angrily.

  They nodded, but Jerret had a sneer on his lips.

  "Bekka Nightspear," said Shennen, "I want you to fight alongside me on this mission. You have shown great skill and courage in battle."

  She bowed. "Thank you, Master Shennen. It is a great honor to be chosen for this task." She was a tall, dark-skinned Norack woman in her early twenties, with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her bare arms that protruded from her blue, leather armor rippled with muscle.

  Daledus nodded to Lannon. "Lad, you're becoming a great warrior. The way you wrestled down that Guardian was very impressive."

  "I've fought them before," Lannon explained, "so I knew what to do. Swords don't work on them. Except for Vorden's sword, apparently."

  "Lannon," said Taris, "you did excellent work in alerting us to the ambush. That sort of thing is exactly why you were recruited by Dremlock. And we're going to need more of it, so keep reaching forth with the Eye."

  "Thank you," said Lannon. "But the Guardians were just sort of standing around in here, as if they expected to be discovered."

  Jace rose and stretched his arms, a frown on his face. "Yes, but why? The puzzle deepens, and still we press on--waiting for the trap to be sprung."

  "Yes," said Taris. "But I'm convinced that Lannon can guide us through safely. Here in the mines, Lannon is our greatest weapon. King Verlamer cannot possibly have an answer for the Eye of Divinity."

  "One would think," said Jace, but he didn't appear convinced. He muttered something to himself and shook his head.

  Taris' praise left Lannon feeling pleased. A compliment from Taris was quite significant. He felt valuable to the mission. Maybe he was even as important to the quest to free Dremlock as Prince Vannas was. A dead Knight, and the injuries to his friends, dampened his mood some--yet he was eager to press onward and use his skills. He wanted to earn more compliments.

  "Lannon, lead the way," said Taris, patting him on the back.

  Lannon tried to move--but found he was frozen. Stunned, he realized everyone in the Temple was suddenly rendered motionless. Powerful dark sorcery was everywhere, flooding the chamber.

  Nine Goblin Lords had been hiding atop broad wooden beams in the Temple's ceiling, and now they released their foul, paralyzing sorcery throughout the room. Lannon glimpsed them with the Eye, their evil faces twisted with focus as they clung to the beams. Lannon realized the dastardly mistake he'd made. He'd spotted the Guardians easily in the chamber and had assumed that was the extent of the ambush. In his surprise over finding them there, he'd forgotten to check the ceiling. This was King Verlamer's trap revealed at last, and it had fooled Lannon far too easily. He was ashamed and disgusted with himself.

  This wasn't the first time Lannon had been snared by the sorcery of Goblin Lords. It had happened once before, but the Lords had failed to contain the famous Knight known as Caldrek Redblade, who was able to buy them enough time to break free. Yet Lannon sensed these Priests were much more powerful and focused, and their sorcery was able to contain everyone in the room--even Taris Warhawk.

  One thing was obvious--Bellis had formed a deep union with Tharnin, which made the kingdom all the more dangerous. This group of nine elite Goblin Lords was a mighty weapon used flawlessly to trap the White Flamestone. It had been Lannon's duty to see through this trap, and he'd failed miserably.

  For a moment, Lannon simply stood there in despair, the Eye of Divinity diminishing. Then he pulled himself together and fought to break free. He realized two of the Priests were holding him in check, and their power was forcing the Eye back inside him. Had he not been caught off guard, he would have stood a much better chance of escaping, but now he couldn't shore up the Eye enough to overpower them. His hope now rested with Taris Warhawk. The Birlote Sorcerer knew many tricks, but could he do what the Eye of Divinity could not?

  Lannon watched in despair as more of Bellis' warriors poured into the Temple and quickly began disarming the group. They took the White Flamestone along with all the other weapons, and then locked everyone in stout irons. They used special irons for the sorcerers (including Lannon) that were resistant to heat. They also forced the sorcerers to drink some foul liquid that burned the throat.

  Then the Goblin Lords dropped from the ceiling and stood grinning at them. Now able to move again, Lannon bowed his head in anguish. He was already feeling very groggy from the liquid, slipping away into darkness. His final thought before he passed out was that perhaps the war for Dremlock was truly over.

  Chapter 20: Dremlock Dungeons

  When Lannon Sunshield awoke, his wrists and ankles were still in irons and he was in a shadowy prison cell, lying on a bed of dirty straw. He sat up and checked himself for injuries. Finding none, he rose and studied the irons that held him. They were designed to resist Knightly sorcery--but not the rare type of power Lannon wielded. He sensed he might be able to escape, but he wanted a chance to speak to his captors before he attempted it.

  He desperately wanted to help his companions, but breaking out of his cell might get them killed. It was his fault that the mission had failed. He cursed himself for falling for a trap that now seemed wretchedly simple as he pondered it. They had been counting on him to behave like a fully trained Knight, and instead he'd acted like an impatient Squire to the ruin of all. He'd done exactly what King Verlamer had expected him to do, and that fact was deeply humiliating. So much for the Dark Watchman returning to save his kingdom.

  Frustration tormented him, and he paced about restlessly. Were his companions being tortured, or were they already dead? He couldn't bear the thought that he'd failed them so completely. His abdomen still ached from being punched by a metal-clad fist, and the anxiety that churned in his stomach didn't help matters. He felt nauseas and weak.

  Lannon peered through the cell bars but could only see a stone hallway lit by a pair of torches that hung from the wall. A few rats scurried here and there, and a musty stench hung in the air. He knew he was in Dremlock, but where were his c
ompanions? He scanned the hallway with the Eye but found he was alone except for an approaching guard.

  The guard was stocky, with a long black mustache that hung down well past his chin. He wore black clothing and carried a hammer in one hand and a large turkey leg in the other. He had an arrogant, spiteful look on his broad face as he studied Lannon in the torchlight.

  "Greetings!" the guard bellowed. "I see you're still alive in there."

  "I'm fine," said Lannon. "How are my companions doing?"

  "Dead," the guard grunted. He tore into the drumstick, and pieces dropped from his teeth to the floor. He sneered as he chewed.

  The Eye revealed that the guard was probably lying, but Lannon could not tell for sure.

  "What's to be done with me?" he asked.

  "Execution," said the guard, drawing the drumstick across his throat in a hostile gesture. "A beheading awaits you."

  That statement seemed to be a lie.

  "Will I get a last meal?" Lannon asked, realizing how hungry he was as the smell of roast turkey filled his nostrils.

  "I don't waste food on Dremlock scum," the guard growled. "You can die on an empty stomach for all I care."

  "Wonderful," Lannon mumbled. Of all the possible guards that Bellis could have assigned to him, why did they choose this one? "Is there any chance I could speak to King Verlamer?"

  The guard bellowed laughter. "Keep dreaming, lad. You'll have the rats down here for company, though--until we free your head from its neck." He left the drumstick lodged in his teeth and folded his muscular arms across his chest, as if daring Lannon to dispute him.

  Lannon sat down, knowing further conversation was pointless. But the guard kept standing there staring at him.

  "Are you going to eat that?" Lannon asked.

  The guard yanked the drumstick from his mouth. "Huh? Are you a hungry little man? Well, too bad." He chewed some more of it.

 

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