Knights: Legends of Ollanhar
by Robert E. Keller
Book 2 of the Ollanhar Series
Smart Goblin Publishing 2015
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Original and exclusive cover art by Carolina Mylius
Copyright © 2015 Robert E. Keller
Content Notice:
A complete 92,000 word fantasy novel.
About the Author:
Robert E. Keller is a fantasy writer who has had more than 30 stories published in online and print magazines, and he is the author of several epic fantasy novels. You can find more information on his projects at www.robertekeller.net
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1: The Miser's Gleaming Hoard
Chapter 2: The Gloomy Path to Freedom
Chapter 3: The Town called Red Barrel
Chapter 4: The Land of Mud and Mayhem
Chapter 5: The Master of Illusion and Shadow
Chapter 6: The Ranger's Impossible Dream
Chapter 7: The Haunting of Faindan Stillsword
Chapter 8: The Endless and Watchful Hills
Chapter 9: The Joyous Execution Ceremony
Chapter 10: The Choices of a Lost Knight
Chapter 11: The Lonely Path of Trenton Shadowbane
Chapter 12: The Giant of Callaboren
Chapter 13: The Lake of Legends and Bones
Chapter 14: The Temple of the Great Light
Chapter 15: The Lurker in the Oaks
Chapter 16: The Clash Upon the Waves, Part 1
Chapter 17: The Clash Upon the Waves, Part 2
Chapter 18: The Quiet Waters at Dusk
Chapter 1:
The Miser's Gleaming Hoard
The mountains had come to despise them--and not in the usual way the Deep Shadow showed its hatred. This was another level of spite, a feeling that poisoned the air and turned dreams into horrific nightmares.
The Divine Knights of Dremlock Kingdom would find no rest until they left the bitter grasp of the Soddurn Mountains. They had slain the ruler of those peaks--the ancient demon known as Lord Hathannis--and they had displayed their banners proudly in defiance of Tharnin.
Such grave insults had consequences.
But the Knights could not yet depart, for they were waiting for a lone Elder Hawk to descend from the sky with news from Dremlock. What path would they be ordered to take? One that led back to Ollanhar Tower, or one that led deep into strange lands on a quest for another of the mighty Flamestones?
Like the others, Lannon Sunshield was growing impatient. He wandered the camp like a detached shadow, often circling it beyond the cluster of tents with his hand on his sword hilt--walking mostly unseen and unheard by the others in his dark cloak and soft leather boots, the Eye of Divinity sweeping the forest for danger. It wasn't just the foul children of the Deep Shadow that concerned him--but also the constant threat of Bellis Kingdom and its vast armies.
The dense fog remained everywhere, concealing the dark forces that plotted against Lannon and his companions. Lannon dared not let down his guard for even an instant. A poison arrow could end everything.
A few hours earlier, from out of that fog had come a huge Ghoul, slipping quietly into camp. It had tried to carry off Taith, but one of the Greywind horses had come to the boy's rescue, driving its hoofs into the Ghoul's back. As the Knights emerged from their tents, weapons drawn, the Ghoul had fled with Taith's silver Birlote dagger (an expensive gift from Aldreya).
Lannon was eager to track down the monster and retrieve the dagger. It angered him that the Ghoul had sought to claim the boy--no doubt for some sinister purpose such as twisting his mind with the Deep Shadow. But he was waiting for word from Aldreya, who seemed frustratingly indecisive lately.
As Lannon stood by a gnarled pine, Lothrin Windbow stepped from the mist, clothed in brown and equipped with bow, arrows, and a long dagger. The lean Birlote Ranger bore an eager expression on his handsome face. His silver hair seemed to blend with the fog, while his copper-colored skin looked very dark in contrast to the pale mist. His eyes were wise and thoughtful, yet Lothrin was also cunning and aggressive. He was every bit as dangerous as he looked--a warrior that Lannon couldn't comprehend, his skills extraordinary even for a Divine Knight. The leaf-shaped birthmark on Lothrin's cheek held some great significance concerning his bloodline, though Lannon wasn't sure exactly what it meant.
"Ready to go?" Lothrin asked. "It's just the two of us."
Lannon nodded. "It appears Aldreya doesn't consider this mission much of a priority." Lannon was letting his emotions dictate his actions--something a Divine Knight was never supposed to do. But he didn't care. He wanted that dagger returned to Taith, who already seemed like an adopted son to Lannon.
"She wants the camp well defended," said Lothrin. "And I don't blame her. After all, Jerret beheaded King Verlamer's infamous Lawkeeper. I'm shocked that we haven't faced retaliation already. Oh, and because of that foul demon you killed, the mountains quiver with rage."
"Killing the demon was justified," said Lannon. "That evil tyrant left us no choice. What Jerret did was different." An image flashed through Lannon's mind of Jerret's sword cutting through the Lawkeeper's neck and the severed head rolling down the rocky slope. He shuddered. That act of revenge had cost Jerret his Knighthood and left him as a mercenary with no direction in life.
"Are you sure it was so different?" asked Lothrin. He pulled a piece of bark from a pine and studied it thoughtfully. "Both were servants of the Deep Shadow in one way or another, and evil to the core. Both were killers and tormentors without conscience. The world is now a better place."
"Jerret broke the Sacred Laws," said Lannon. "There is no excuse for that. He deserves his punishment." Talking about Jerret's banishment left Lannon feeling sad and weary, but the topic kept coming up.
"I'm not so sure," said Lothrin. "I've given it much thought. Surely there is a place for vengeance in the heart of a Knight."
"Not according to the Divine Essence," said Lannon. "Justice is what we seek, not vengeance. For the pursuit of vengeance never ends."
In an instant, Lothrin readied his bow and had an arrow's steel tip pointed at Lannon's eye--before Lannon had time to react. Lannon's power flooded through him, but he held back, wondering what the Ranger's game was.
Lothrin smiled. "Look upon that flawless arrow, Lannon. It can be driven by the fires of both justice and vengeance, for the benefit of all."
Lannon pushed the arrow aside. "Okay, but I'd rather not have that aimed at my eyeball, if it's all the same to you."
"Sorry," said Lothrin, "but I felt I needed to make a strong point."
"You can make a strong point," said Lannon, "without threatening to pierce my skull. I could have attacked you on instinct."
Lothrin laughed. "Not you, Lannon. Your control is too precise. Think about that arrow, my fiend. Vengeance and justice--locked together as one in a beautiful union. Always together."
"Let's find that Ghoul," Lannon mumbled. The Ranger was odd to begin with, but he was also a Birlote--a Tree Dweller with pointed ears and claw-like fingernails and toenails for digging into bark. His way of life was strange to Lannon--to the point of being almost unfathomable. Lannon had given up trying to understand Birlotes and just accepted them as they were.
Lothrin shook his head in amusement. "You don't understand. That's fine, though. You and Prince Vannas are actually very much alike. You're both terribly stubborn and unyielding--refusing to question the Divine
Essence on anything, even though our god is not perfect."
"The Divine Essence is wiser than mortals," said Lannon. "Prince Vannas knows that and does as commanded."
Lothrin's face darkened. "I don't want to discuss this."
"Fine by me," said Lannon, relieved. Lothrin seemed troubled lately, his mood shifting to various extremes. He was also growing increasingly argumentative, and Lannon had no urge to debate him.
They walked side by side in silence through the fog, as Lannon searched for the trail of dark sorcery that would lead them to the Ghoul.
Then Lothrin paused. "You believe Prince Vannas is under the guidance and protection of the Divine Essence. You believe he is faring so wonderfully. But I know the White Flamestone has changed him deeply, turned him into something unnatural. The High Council knows it too, but they're hiding the truth. You of all people, Lannon, should not be fooled."
"I thought you didn't want to talk about it," said Lannon, with a heavy sigh.
Lothrin watched him in silence.
"I don't think anyone is fooling me," Lannon said at last. "I just see things differently than you. Prince Vannas has grown more powerful, and yes, it has changed him. I've changed too, since becoming a Knight. All of us have."
Lothrin rolled his eyes. "You know I'm talking about something else. The prince no longer acts like a warrior, but more like some type of crazed sorcerer or...or even a god. He thinks he is above mortals. As his power expands, so does his ego. It is frightening to behold."
"The prince always had a large ego," said Lannon. "Yet I think he has done a remarkable job of handling his vast power. He is aware of his limitations. But most importantly, he is letting the Divine Essence lead the way. And because of that, I believe he is on the right path."
"You trust too much in our god," said Lothrin. "That strange creature below Dremlock has schemes of its own, Lannon. It will use Prince Vannas against the Deep Shadow, and if the prince meets his doom in the process, so be it. What is the life of a single mortal worth, when so much is at stake?"
"Good question," said Lannon, gazing at him.
Lothrin looked away. "This isn't just about Vannas' doom. With all that power flowing through him, he could bring doom to us all. What will happen when he loses himself completely? Will he become like the Dark Watchmen of old, who were also blessed and guided by the Divine Essence before they turned wicked? If it could happen to them, why not to the prince as well?"
Lannon could not dispute Lothrin's words. The prince could indeed lose himself to darkness--just as Lannon could if he wasn't endlessly careful. Both Lannon and the prince were prime targets for recruitment by the Deep Shadow. At last Lannon said, "You're right, of course, but we still need the White Flamestone to save this land and our kingdom. Without it, how could we ever defeat Bellis and the servants of Tharnin? We can only hope that Prince Vannas maintains his wisdom and honor. We must have faith in him."
"I will only admit this once," said Lothrin, "and I pray you will keep it a secret. If I had a chance, I believe I would flee with the White Flamestone and hide it from the prince until the end of his days."
"Don't do it," Lannon warned. "It would make you a criminal, and there is nowhere you could hide from the Eye of Divinity. I would find you, and your sacrifice would mean nothing." Anxiety gripped Lannon, for he was positive the Ranger meant what he said.
Lothrin shook his head. "You would let me go, Lannon, and tell no one." His eyes were distant. "Yes, you would let me go...if the time was right. I'm certain of it. You would do it to protect Dremlock."
"I won't break the Sacred Laws," said Lannon. "And neither will you, Lothrin, if I can help it. This conversation is over." Discussing it was pointless, as ultimately the Ranger would choose his own path.
Lothrin nodded. "I hear you, Lannon. I won't speak of it again anytime soon. But remember what I said. That's all I ask of you."
Lannon didn't reply. He wondered why every conversation had to turn so grim lately. Couldn't they just hunt down a Ghoul without having to discuss topics that had already been discussed to death and did nothing to improve one's mood? Lannon loved his life as a Divine Knight and had no interest in seeing doom and gloom in everything. He knew they lived in dangerous times and could all meet a horrible fate, but he refused to let that spoil his love of heroic deeds and adventure.
As if sensing Lannon's thoughts, Lothrin managed a smile and said, "Anyway, it's nice to be on a hunt with you. The Ghoul doesn't stand a chance. Yet I feel like I should be doing the tracking."
"Just leave that to me," said Lannon, as he led the way between the towering pines and boulders. The trail of dark sorcery was easy to follow, and it was quite fresh. The Ghoul was not far ahead. The creature probably assumed it was safe, that the Knights wouldn't bother to pursue it.
Lannon paused to rest, leaning against a boulder. He drank deeply from his water flask. He was tired from so much guard duty lately, from hours of wandering about the camp and watching for enemies. His mind drifted off in thought, contemplating the future and what a journey to distant lands might be like.
Meanwhile, Lothrin paced back and forth for a while, apparently lost in his own thoughts. Then he suddenly turned and drew his long dagger. He motioned for Lannon to hold still, then leapt forward and drove the blade at Lannon's shoulder. Lannon tensed up, shielding himself with his power, but the dagger never touched his flesh. A hiss arose next to Lannon.
Lothrin stepped back--to reveal a fat, writhing Centipede skewered on his blade. "Goblin Spawn," he said. "Very sneaky, deadly poison."
Lannon moved away from the rock. "Good work with your blade." Lothrin's skills never ceased to impress him.
Lothrin smiled. "Thank you. Goblin Spawn are nothing to fool with. Centipedes, Bats, Spiders, Lizards...the tiny, sneaky creatures of our world twisted by the Deep Shadow. Once they get on your body, you have to remove them quickly--otherwise they inject their venom. They love to cling to stone, especially mossy stone. They blend in and wait to ambush their prey."
"Good to know," said Lannon, a shiver passing over his flesh. "I won't be leaning on any more boulders." Instead, Lannon leaned against a pine.
"They hide on tree bark too," said Lothrin.
Lannon stepped away from the tree. "Wonderful. I think I've had enough rest. Let's finish this and get out of these wretched mountains."
After continuing on for a bit, they encountered an ugly cave that led into the mountain. A huge dead pine stood near the mouth of it, its pale, skeletal branches partially covering the entrance. The cave and the dead pine loomed before them out of the drifting fog, the Ghoul's trail ending there.
"It would be polite to knock before entering," said Lothrin, with a wink. "After all, we are uninvited guests."
Lannon hurled a large rock into the cave, making an echoing clatter. Then he drew his sword. "Does that qualify as knocking?"
They waited, as the fog drifted around them.
"Come out and face us!" Lothrin yelled into the cave.
Still there was no response.
Lannon sighed. "I guess we'll have to go in."
They started forward and then a long, pale arm thrust forth from the fog and struck Lothrin's shoulder like a battering ram. The Ranger was shoved viciously against the rocks, and he fell to the ground, the fight taken out of him.
Lothrin was conscious, but dazed.
An instant later, a tall figure bearing a musty, foul stench stepped forward to confront Lannon. The Ghoul wore a silver crown, and greed shone in his black eyes. His hair and skin were bone-white, and his presence chilled the air. He wore a bizarre, royal robe of Birlote silk that looked like intricately spun webs. In one hand he held Taith's silver dagger. His other hand was knotted into a bony fist. The Eye of Divinity revealed that this was a notorious miser and thief, centuries old, with flesh as cold as the coins and gems that he hid away beneath earth and stone.
The Ghoul's gaze was fixed on Lannon's sword--not with fear, but with a longing
to possess the rare and expensive weapon.
With a trembling hand, the Ghoul reached for the sword. In response, Lannon cut his arm off at the elbow. With a hiss, the Ghoul backed away.
The arm lay twitching, still infested with evil sorcery.
The Ghoul tucked the dagger away and seized a small boulder in his remaining hand. He raised it as if to hurl it at Lothrin, and Lannon stepped in front of his friend. Lannon raised his sword to behead the monster.
But the Ghoul backed away a bit more, still holding the rock, until the fog partially closed around him and he was just barely visible. The ancient, cunning creature wanted no part of Lannon.
The Ghoul dropped the rock and fled.
Lannon prepared to hurl his sword, just as the Ghoul vanished into the mist. Then he decided against it--always afraid of losing the unique weapon.
He helped Lothrin up. The Ranger stood swaying, still looking dazed. He rubbed his shoulder and winced.
"It still has Taith's dagger," said Lothrin. "A dagger crafted for Birlote royalty. We must hunt it down and finish this."
Lannon shook his head. "I'm tired, Lothrin. And I just want to leave these mountains. Besides, I suspect we will find items in that cave that will more than make up for the loss of the dagger."
Lothrin's eyes lit up. "A treasure hoard?"
***
The floor of the reeking cave was littered with human and animal bones. Vegetables and pieces of meat, in various stages of rot, were piled here and there--food that the Ghoul was in no hurry to eat. It stank so bad in there the two warriors could barely breathe. Scattered about was torn, bloody clothing.
"What has this monster done?" said Lothrin, shaking his head. He kicked at a bloodstained tunic. "It needs to be destroyed."
"Look closer," said Lannon. The Eye revealed that the victims had been killed by humans--probably bandits. "The Ghoul is mostly a scavenger. But a very greedy one. If we take any treasure from here, the monster may come for it."
"And I will be waiting with my dagger," said Lothrin.
At the back of the cave was a huge pile of rocks, dirt, clay, sticks, roots, pieces of wagons, broken barrels, and logs. This pile reached the ceiling.
Knights: Legends of Ollanhar Page 1
