Lannon blocked a brutal swing, and then two more. He couldn't find an opening to strike back, as he was too busy trying to keep his head from being battered into pudding. All he could do was block and duck, as a grinning Verlamer drove Lannon to the edge of the platform.
In desperation, Lannon froze the king--with Verlamer's fist inches from Lannon's nose. Lannon shoved the grimacing king backwards with a burst of energy, but it was no easy task. Verlamer's resistance to the Eye was mighty, but it gave Lannon a few seconds to move around him to the center of the platform.
Verlamer whirled around, his face crimson with rage. "Cheater!" he cried. "This was supposed to be a duel of hands, not outright sorcery! I should declare myself the winner and be done with this!"
"I didn't know it wasn't allowed," said Lannon, as he stood panting from exertion. "I'll just use my hands, then. Give me another chance."
"One more chance," Verlamer muttered. "I want the satisfaction of crushing you in a fair fight. Now come at me like a man!"
Lannon moved forward, wondering what to try now. Before he got a chance to make a move, Verlamer drove in on him and landed a massive blow to Lannon's jaw. Lannon tried to shield himself with the Eye on instinct, but the blow still knocked him off his feet. He landed on his back with a thud, nearly unconscious.
Lannon gazed up in disbelief at the blue sky, his vision darkening as dizziness pounded through him in waves. Then he realized Verlamer was standing over him gloating.
The king pointed down at Lannon. "I own you, Dark Watchman!" He knelt and put his bearded face inches from Lannon's bruised face. "How do you like it, boy? Get on your feet and have some more. Don't you dare fall asleep!"
Lannon fought to stay conscious. The king was right--he did own Lannon. Lannon had made a dire mistake in thinking he could best Verlamer in a duel of fists. In fact, Lannon hadn't yet been able to land a blow.
The Thallite giant began counting down outside the arena, pointing his finger at Lannon as he bellowed out each number. Before he got down to zero, Lannon made a frantic effort to rise. The Eye helped him struggle to his feet, and he stood facing the king, still battling to stay conscious.
"Not done yet!" Verlamer shouted to the crowd. He raised his fist that was nearly the size of Lannon's head and pointed it at the lad. "I promise you the next blow will snap your neck!"
Having no choice, Lannon shielded himself completely with the Eye. He needed a moment to come up with a strategy, and this was the only way he could hope to claim that moment. Verlamer's fist slammed into Lannon's face with the force of a door-breaking battering ram. The energy from the Eye absorbed most of the impact, but Lannon was thrown onto his back again.
Verlamer raised his hands in victory, thinking Lannon was finished. The Thallite giant began the count again.
Lannon searched his mind for answers. Verlamer was far stronger and faster than Lannon had ever imagined. In a duel of sword skills, the fight would have been different, and the cunning king had known that. The Eye of Divinity was simply not nearly as effective when used in hand-to-hand combat as it was when channeled into a blade like Lannon's Dragon sword.
This was a wretched way for the duel to end, but Lannon knew if he stayed down his life would be spared. Yet a loss to Verlamer would do tremendous damage to the morale of the Divine Knights. Their struggle was too important for him to quit. He owed it to his friends, his kingdom, and his god to rise again.
His mind drifted back to Ollanhar--the Watchman's Keep. He remembered watching the battle from ancient times between Londa Spiritwind and the mighty Troll. And then he suddenly knew what the lesson meant. The fighting style and the warrior were one and the same. Londa hadn't adopted a different style to defeat the Troll. Instead, she'd become a different person and the style had shifted accordingly. And then Lannon knew what he had to do. He was fighting the way the king wanted him to--copying Verlamer's style--and that would lead to certain defeat. He needed to become a new warrior with a style the king did not understand.
Lannon flooded his muscles with the Eye, as the Thallite's count reached three. He climbed to his feet and once again stood facing the king, his chest heaving. He relaxed his mind and body, letting himself become like the great bears that wandered the forests and wrestled with each other in the sunlit clearings. He focused on weight and strength, and quick, explosive movements that could conserve energy. And he waited patiently for the king to strike.
Sensing that Lannon was doing something new, Verlamer moved forward cautiously. When Lannon still didn't move, the king swung at his face again. But Lannon had anticipated the strike, and he knocked Verlamer's arm aside and moved in on him, wrapping him in a bear hug. In spite of the king immense strength, the Eye was very focused and Lannon's hold did not yield. He squeezed Verlamer like an enraged bear, as the king fought to break free.
It must have appeared odd to the crowd--this much smaller man grappling with the giant king. Slowly, Lannon dragged Verlamer to the floor. The king fought viciously to break free, but the Eye would not permit it. Inch by inch, Lannon worked the King of Bellis into a firm choke hold.
"It's over!" Lannon grunted. "Submit before I kill you!"
"I'll...die...first..." Verlamer croaked.
In truth, Lannon wasn't sure he could actually kill Verlamer this way. He was applying all the pressure he could to the king's throat, and the king was still conscious. But Verlamer didn't know that.
"As you wish," said Lannon. "Now I'm going to finish you!"
"Wait!" Verlamer croaked. The king's strength suddenly seemed to be failing, as Lannon's forearm squeezed tighter into his neck. "I...submit. Don't...kill..."
"Signal the crowd!" Lannon demanded.
Verlamer raised his hand, palm toward the crowd. He held it there for five seconds, indicating his submission, as many of the onlookers cheered and some--his own people--booed or cried out in dismay.
Lannon released Verlamer and stood up, relief flooding through him. He was trembling, wondering what would happen next.
Verlamer rose, anguish and hate in his eyes. "You didn't defeat me with your fists, Lannon. It wasn't fair." But his tone lacked conviction.
"It was a duel of bare hands," said Lannon, "and I used my bare hands. It was fair and you know it."
Verlamer glanced toward his Guardians. He seemed to be considering whether or not he would honor the results of the duel. The Dragon flew from the tower balcony and circled overhead, eyes on Lannon.
"Don't be a fool," said Lannon, thinking Verlamer was going to declare himself the winner in spite of his submission. "You gave the signal. No true king would ever betray an honorable duel. People everywhere would consider you a sorry wretch. You would lose all respect."
When Verlamer didn't answer, Lannon walked to the edge of the arena. His Dragon sword was being held by one of the Guardians. Using the Eye, he ripped it from the warrior's hand and brought it to his own. The Guardians ran to the platform's edge, but stood waiting for commands.
Verlamer turned toward him, looking miserable. "Not a fair duel. I had you beaten, Sunshield. You had no answer for my fists."
"The battle for Dremlock isn't over," said Lannon. "You said it yourself. The fight continues below. Honor the duel, or not only will you be scorned throughout Gallamerth, but I will escape this arena. Your warriors can't stop me. I will go to Taris, and we will eventually free this kingdom."
"Your threats cause me no concern," said Verlamer.
"This is the end," said Lannon. "Leave Dremlock alone. You don't need it anyway. If you choose to continue this fight, I make you a promise that I will deal with you personally." Lannon was surprised by the sinister tone in which he spoke, as a strange sense of power and invincibility flooded through him. Something was awakening inside him--something dark and ancient.
As Verlamer gazed into Lannon's eyes, the king glimpsed something that made him look away with a shudder.
"Give me the White Flamestone!" Lannon demanded, extending his hand. "I k
now you carry it in your robe. I will return it to Prince Vannas." Lannon wasn't sure if Verlamer actually had it in his robe at the moment, but Verlamer didn't know that. Lannon wanted to make sure the king didn't try to slip away with it. It was, after all, the most important of Dremlock's treasures.
Verlamer hesitated, then withdrew it from his robe. He tossed it to Lannon. "I have no use for it. There are other pretty stones..."
The king turned away.
But then he turned toward Lannon again, a look of pleading on his face. "One more duel, Lannon. Fists only, to the death. Name your reward!"
"No more duels," said Lannon. "The deed is done, and you are bound by honor to withdraw from my kingdom at once!"
Verlamer's gaze lingered on him for a moment.
Then the King of Bellis turned and walked away.
Chapter 26: The Council of Ollanhar
King Verlamer was true to his word. He dared not defy the results of honorable combat, for it might have turned his own people against him, enraged the Birlotes and Olrogs, and perhaps even earned him the wrath of Tharnin (which was a lawful realm in spite of its evil). Embarrassed over his defeat and wanting to move on, he spent a night in seclusion and then departed from Dremlock the next morning. Crowds of riders and wagons began to depart down the mountainside. The departure was peaceful, as Dremlock's Knights and Squires worked with Bellis' servants to get things done in a swift, smooth fashion.
And so Verlamer left in silence, his conflict with Dremlock ended (unless the Divine Knights chose to seek a war), but his goal of conquering the rest of the land was still intact. The Mad King of Bellis would march on, his desire for the game of strategy and combat never satisfied. He left Dremlock, and Bellis' strange god went with him--the unknown man who wore a helm that resembled the head of a golden bull and who carried a great horn, a god who had been in hiding for several days. It was a strange departure of strange characters.
But as the last rider departed and the gates of Darkender Tunnel were sealed, the Divine Knights were left with a lot of work to be done. The kingdom had sustained a lot of damage, and many Knights were injured. For three weeks afterward the Knights and Squires worked hard at restoring the kingdom to its former glory. Meanwhile, messages were sent to the people who had dwelt on the mountainside, informing them it was safe to return to their homes and businesses.
Dremlock had endured once again, but the rest of Silverland remained under the Banner of Bellis. Trade with the cities would be difficult, and tension would be high. Everyone was left wondering if peace could actually be sustained.
***
When the restoration of Dremlock was complete, a gathering was called in the Great Hall in the evening. Aside from dozens of Divine Knights, the High Council--which now included Fadar Stonebow--was present, along with the Divine Shield. Valedos and the Nine Axes were also there, and Bekka Nightspear.
An extravagant feast took place, while they waited for a special guest to appear. There was much talking and laughing in the hall by the glow of the fireplace and torches. The suits of armor and paintings on the walls of famous Knights were cast in the flickering, crimson light. It was a warm, relaxed atmosphere. Everyone was tired for all the hard work and ready to indulge in some merrymaking.
After a bit, the special guest emerged from a back room, limping as he walked with a cane. It was Cordus Landsaver. The crowd cheered. Lannon and his friends were delighted to see the Lord Knight up and about--although the assassination attempt had clearly taken quite a toll on Cordus. He looked older, with his hair a bit more grey, and he wore a green robe instead of his usual shining breastplate. His steps were slow, and he paused briefly to rest, leaning on the cane. He smiled down at Lannon and patted him on the shoulder as he walked past.
As Cordus stood before the tables, his eyes showed tears of with emotion even before he began to speak. He'd always been an emotional man, ruling Dremlock with intensity and passion, but seldom did a Divine Knight show tears. Cordus wiped his eyes on his sleeve and composed himself.
"My friends," the Lord Knight said at last. "We have suffered so much to save this kingdom, yet we have endured. Krissana and Barlow are gone, along with many of our greatest Knights, and their sacrifice will not be forgotten. We will hold a funeral for Krissana tomorrow evening, and I promise you she will be honored properly as one of our greatest leaders. After that, we will hold a funeral each night until all have been laid to rest--including those who remain missing in the tunnels beneath Kalamede. No one will be forgotten."
Cordus bowed his head for a moment and then continued, "I am proud to say that Dremlock never wavered in its battle with Bellis. I can now reveal that Vesselin Hopebringer's order of surrender--which was a decision that I approve of and which the Divine Essence itself showed support for--was made without knowledge of the full situation. Vesselin did not know what forces lurk below this kingdom--forces which I am not at liberty to reveal, even though rumors have spread throughout Dremlock and some of the truth is now known. All I can say is that the war was not over, even after the towers fell."
Cordus sipped some water, then went on, "However, it was Lannon Sunshield who prevented a great deal of bloodshed. Had Lannon not defeated Verlamer in the duel, many warriors would have perished." Cordus' face was grim. "The bloodiest battle was yet to come, and Lannon removed the need for it and drove the mad king permanently out of Dremlock. His deed is legendary!"
The crowd roared. Lannon's face reddened a bit. It felt good to be praised, but he wasn't sure he deserved it. He'd made many mistakes since coming to Dremlock, some that were very costly. While others viewed him as a great hero, he wondered if he could have done more and what the future would hold. Could he escape the dreadful fate of his processors? Somehow, he knew he must do so.
Cordus' expression darkened again. "Nevertheless, the threat of Bellis remains in Silverland--for now. Yet we must focus on strengthening Dremlock and expanding, so that we can compete with King Verlamer. I'm not talking about conquering. Rather, I speak of recruiting. We need to increase our efforts in finding new Squires. We also need to establish new fortresses and spread out a bit."
Cordus seemed to lose focus for a moment, his mind perhaps foggy from the pain of his wounds. Then he smiled. "We will grow stronger than ever, my friends. Now...my body hurts and I must soon rest. First, I would like to honor those who deserve it the most. These promotions will be verbal for now, as we don't yet have the proper sashes made up--but they will be official.
"First, I want to honor Lannon Sunshield for his courage and heroism. He has done deeds that have far surpassed my expectations. I am promoting Lannon to the highest rank a Watchman can obtain. He is now granted the freedom to come and go from Dremlock as he chooses--within reason--and decide his own missions. He will answer only to the Lord Knight and his Tower Masters. Lannon Sunshield--you are now the High Watchman of Dremlock!"
Lannon bowed, in awe that Cordus and the rest of the High Council felt he was so important to the fate of the land. Yet once again he was left wondering what this would mean for him in the future. His joy was tainted by uncertainty. He was the High Watchman. He was the only Watchman. There were no others for him to share his burdens with, and for a moment he was overcome by a lonely feeling. Then he remembered that he still had his friends--his Grey Keepers--who would be by his side in the future to help him with his struggles.
"Next," Cordus went on, "I would like to honor Vorden Flameblade, who fought with great courage against the Thallite. I hereby promote him to the rank of Divine Knight. And his Color Class will be Red."
Jerret clapped him on the back. "We will be great together on the battlefield, my friend."
Vorden bowed to Cordus, but his face was somber. Like Lannon, he was uncertain about the future.
Each of Lannon's other Grey Keepers was promoted to a higher rank called a True Sword, except for Dallsa, who remained a Squire.
"Now I have a bit more to mention," said Cordus. He hesitated, his gaze
slowly sweeping the crowd. He sighed. "I...am not myself lately. I probably should have died... I probably would have, if the Divine Essence hadn't protected me. But it did not heal me, and I take that as a sign that my reign as Lord Knight...must come to an end. I am hereby announcing my forthcoming--and soon to be--official retirement from the affairs of Knighthood."
The crowd erupted into boos and exchanged unhappy looks.
Lannon's heart sank, but he knew it was a good decision for Cordus. The Lord Knight was clearly diminished from the assassination attempt, and he needed rest and relaxation away from all the troubles that Dremlock faced.
"My time is ended," said Cordus, "and Dremlock is still free. I feel my task is done. I intend to spend a lot of time chatting in a building that I purchased sometime ago further down the mountain. I have given up drinking wine--and my resolve is firm--so do not fret over my next statement. Yes, I am the proud owner of the Divine Inn of Unending Merrymaking! And I hear it's still fully intact and ready to receive its new master. I will be headed there for a life of peace and quiet, but I won't be far from the kingdom if my advice is still sought."
"You won't miss me," said Cordus, and the crowd booed. He chuckled. "Taris Warhawk has also spoken of retirement and returning to Borenthia, but he has decided--thankfully--to stay with us for a while. As you all might have guessed, he will be promoted to Lord Knight when I step down. Trenton Shadowbane will take over as the East Tower Master, and Fadar Stonebow has expressed an interest in replacing him as the Investigator, so that will be put to a vote. Now I believe Vesselin Hopebringer has something he would like to say."
Vesselin rose, brushing his long white beard from the tabletop. "I want to announce my retirement as well. In fact, it is probably long overdue. Good people of Dremlock, I've had enough! I want to fish."
Knights: The Blood of Kings (Knights Series) Page 33
