Knights: Legends of Ollanhar

by Robert E. Keller

  "What's wrong?" asked Aldreya.

  "It...feels uncomfortable," said the prince. "I suddenly feel weak." He yanked off the helm. "It seemed to be draining my strength. Dallsa, you should examine this again, for clearly this item is cursed." He tossed it away.

  Lannon picked it up, feeling delighted. "It's not cursed. And now Bekka can give it a try."

  "If she wants it," said Aldreya, in a cold voice, "let her walk to you and get it. Let her prove she deserves it."

  "I see no reason for that," Lannon protested. "She has already shown great courage in surviving the Ghoul's attack."

  "Sometimes a test is needed," said Aldreya, "before a great gift can be given. This is not just the Birlote way, but the way of Divine Knights."

  "Aldreya is correct," said Prince Vannas. "Before I was given the White Flamestone, I had to walk through fire and pain. If Bekka was meant to receive this helm, she will find the strength within."

  "Bekka can do it," said Dallsa. "I know she can." The healer whispered some words of encouragement to her.

  Her eyes blazing with determination, Bekka somehow struggled up from the ground and stood swaying.

  Lannon longed to move toward her, but he hesitated. Bekka seemed so intent on walking to him that he didn't want to interfere.

  She took a step and nearly fell. She managed another wobbly step and again almost lost her balance. Gaining confidence, she managed five more slow steps and then stood before Lannon. She collapsed to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks--experiencing pain too terrible for Lannon to imagine.

  "I hope this was worth the effort," he whispered.

  With trembling hands, Bekka took the helm. She could barely hold onto it, but she managed to place it atop her head. It seemed to fit her perfectly. For an instant, her eyes closed and she seemed to be asleep.

  Aldreya nodded. "She did well."

  And then Bekka's eyes came open. She removed the helm, dropped it, and fell over onto her side. "It doesn't quite fit," she whispered.

  Lannon sighed. "Sorry, Bekka."

  The others--including Prince Vannas--looked dismayed.

  "It is time to move on," said Aldreya, turning away. "Distant lands await us."

  Chapter 2:

  The Gloomy Path to Freedom

  The good weather didn't last long. As they continued their journey through the peaks, storm clouds gathered overhead, thunder echoed through the darkened sky, and a cold, miserable rain began to fall. Meanwhile, the fog closed in tightly around them as if deliberately trying to cut off their view of danger. They could have erected their tents and waited for better weather, but good weather was rare in the Soddurn Mountains to begin with and they were driven on with the pressing urge to get through the evil peaks and as far away from them as possible. They refused to rest even briefly, eating jerky, fruit, and cheese as they rode.

  The travelers could sense unseen foes watching them from the fog. The fog itself was cold and slimy against their skin--as if alive--and little chills crept over their flesh in warning that evil creatures were studying their every move. Malicious forces were plotting their doom, desperate to see their bones merge with the rocky earth where the bones of so many other victims lay. Yet the Divine Knights had struck fear into the heart of the mountains, and their enemies were reluctant to attack. Occasionally the travelers glimpsed lumbering shapes in the fog, and winged shadows soared past overhead. But these were fleeting glimpses of foes who had accidentally revealed themselves and were retreating back into hiding.

  The trail grew steeper, more barren. The towering pines were left behind, and it seemed no sign of life remained--just the fog and the cold stone around them and the cliffs looming over them. The wagons barely fit onto the trail in places, with the wheels riding the cliff edges without an inch to spare. Towers and fortresses carved from mountain stone jutted out like evil growths and were located in seemingly inaccessible places--upon the sides of sheer cliffs and beyond gaping chasms. The strangeness of it was overwhelming. The Knights wondered why anyone would want to dwell in such remote castles and how these dwellers had managed to come and go without plunging to their doom. Yet the original occupants were long gone--replaced by creatures of darkness.

  Bekka Nightspear insisted on riding, and she sat slumped forward in the saddle, looking like she might tumble off her perch at any moment. Lannon rode next to her, ready to assist her if need be. With everyone wet and miserable from the rain, no one was doing much talking--not even Daledus. Bekka didn't look at Lannon, her eyes sullen as water dripped from her face.

  Lannon glanced over at her. "Are you sure you don't need rest?" A comfortable bed of thick quilts was prepared for her in the back of a wagon. She could have chosen to be warm and dry, but she was determined to share in the misery of riding through the storm.

  Bekka glared at him. She shook her head. "When I rest, the nightmares return. I would rather stay awake."

  "You sound stronger," said Lannon. "Your voice."

  She nodded. "I keep pushing myself, and it's making me recover faster. Just getting up and walking really helped."

  "Sorry about the helm," he said. "I truly believed it was going to fit. For some reason I felt like you were destined to have it."

  "Why?" she asked, her voice barely heard above the rain. "I'm nothing special. That helm was crafted for royalty."

  They fell silent for a moment. Then Bekka said, "Now that I can talk more...I just want to say that this pain is rotten. Beyond belief. Agony like...fire throughout my body. Getting better, though." She swallowed.

  "I can't imagine it," said Lannon. "Or the nightmares."

  Bekka shuddered. "The nightmares are worse than the pain. The Ghoul is with me, in my dreams. He has tortured me...over and over. At first I wanted to die, but I kept fighting like a warrior." Her eyes were fierce and proud.

  "You are a warrior," said Lannon, "like no other. The way you handle pain reminds me of Taris Warhawk." He sighed. "Maybe I thought that's why the helm would work for you."

  "Enough," she said wearily. "Forget the stupid helm, Lannon. I just want to get my strength back and resume my training. I'm so angry...you can't even understand. I want to destroy the Deep Shadow!"

  Jace, who rode just behind them, said, "Forgive me for listening in, but your words are music to my ears, Bekka."

  They turned to gaze at the hulking sorcerer.

  Jace's eyes gleamed with secret knowledge as he gazed at Bekka. "All Divine Knights should think like you. Yes, the Deep Shadow must be completely eradicated from our land--down to the last smelly Goblin."

  "Not likely," said Lannon. "It would take years of warfare just to cleanse these mountains--let alone the entire continent. I believe the Deep Shadow will always have a presence on Gallamerth."

  "I disagree," said Jace. "It can be done--and ultimately it must be done, or there will be no peace. The Deep Shadow is not native to our world. It entered Gallamerth when a portal was ripped open by a huge, falling rock that landed in the ocean and exploded. It's not supposed to be here. Therefore, logic dictates that removing it is not only possible but completely necessary."

  "Okay," said Lannon, not in the mood to argue. "So what is your plan?" He didn't expect Jace to actually have a plan.

  "We have to seal all the portals to Tharnin," said Jace, "and then destroy the Bloodlands. If we do that, eventually Goblins will become extinct. We would need the Flamestones--including the crimson one--to accomplish these tasks. I actually intend to do this stuff."

  Looking skeptical, Bekka turned away.

  "I suppose it's possible," said Lannon. "But it seems farfetched."

  "Of course it's farfetched," said Jace. He grinned. "If it wasn't, it wouldn't interest me. I have big plans, Lannon. Actually, huge plans. I want to save the world." He waved his arms about dramatically, as rain dripped from his long nose. "Why not me? Why not us, Lannon? Someone has to do it."

  Lannon yawned. "If you say so."

  "Will you help me, Dark Wa
tchman?" asked Jace.

  "With what?" asked Lannon, his mind wandering. He had learned to filter out Jace whenever he seemed to be talking nonsense.

  "Saving the world, of course," said Jace.

  Lannon nodded. "You can count on me."

  "Excellent," said Jace. "I will seek you out in about...thirty years, then. I will come knocking on your door, bearing a chocolate cake with your name written on it in white frosting--to mark the birthday of this agreement. And then you can help me on my quest. After we eat cake. I'm holding you to it."

  "Sure," said Lannon, smoothing back his soaked blond hair. Then a strange chill ran over his flesh. Jace bore a somber expression--as if he believed the conversation was deathly serious.

  "What did I just agree to?" asked Lannon.

  Jace waved dismissively. "Don't concern yourself with it. None of us may be alive in thirty years, considering the struggles we're facing."

  "That's comforting," Lannon muttered.

  Then the lightning came, attacking with a fury the Knights had never witnessed. Again and again the mountains were lit up with yellow fire, with some of the bolts striking dangerously close to the travelers. The wind picked up like a giant hand seeking to push them off the cliffs. Lannon shielded himself with the Eye, but he feared for the others, who lacked such protection.

  "Not this again," said Aldreya, who rode behind Jace.

  "The Deep Shadow is enraged," said Jace. "It is bringing all it has against us. If it could truly control the lightning, we would be dead already."

  "How can the Deep Shadow create storms?" growled Bekka, who was fighting an epic battle just to stay on her horse as the wind and rain lashed against her. "Such power seems impossible." She slid to one side.

  Lannon helped steady her, and she glowered at him, sensing his power at work. He gazed back at her sternly, and she said nothing. Bekka was fiercely independent, but Lannon was not going to let her fall.

  "It affects the very air itself," said Jace. "It changes the sky, and then the storms follow. I've seen it happen many times. In the realm of Tharnin, the storms rage endlessly--and the Soddurn Mountains have become nothing more than an extension of Tharnin. The presence of the Deep Shadow is so strong here that the landscape is almost no longer part of our world."

  "Look for a cave!" Aldreya called out.

  Though the fog concealed everything from normal vision, Lannon's sight could not be blinded. He soon located a cave in the mountainside. It was large enough for the horses and wagons.

  The travelers entered and stood dripping, as rivers of rain poured down from the cave entrance. At the back of the cave was a horrific sight--a Dark Mother tree growing in the rocks, with three Foul Brothers suckling upon its branches. They looked like men with bald heads and grey, wrinkled skin. Their eyes were dark and dumb, gazing at the travelers. They were naked except for loincloths that had been fashioned from animal hide.

  The Knights looked upon them in disgust.

  Vorden drew his dagger and stepped forward. "Allow me."

  "Wait," said Dallsa. "I don't think we should kill them. Foul Brothers are peaceful. They won't hurt anyone." She stepped in front of the nest. She was stocky, but she looked small and weak compared to Vorden.

  Vorden glared down at her. "They're not peaceful. They become the worst Goblins of all--the Priests of Tharnin."

  "Not by nature," said Dallsa. "The Priests are created by alchemy. Slaughtering these peaceful creatures would be wrong."

  "Kill them," said Daledus. "No Goblin should ever be left alive."

  Dallsa shook her head. "It would be wrong."

  Daledus raised his huge battle axe. "What if I insist?"

  Dallsa shrugged, yet held her ground.

  Taith's eyes widened. The boy couldn't believe Dallsa was standing up to Daledus, and he pressed close to Lannon. Taith feared Daledus, for the Dwarf's gruff attitude and unpredictable personality made him extremely intimidating to the lad (not to mention his bulging muscles and meaty fists).

  Yet Daledus only looked amused.

  "We must kill them, Dallsa," said Aldreya. "They could become Goblin Lords. It's too dangerous to let them live. They don't belong in our world, and the Divine Essence commands that we destroy them."

  Jerret drew his broadsword. The brutish mercenary sneered at Dallsa. "Don't be a fool. This is a Mother Nest. It must be destroyed." He strode over to her, bumping Vorden aside.

  Dallsa blocked his path, hands on her hips. She looked doubtful--perhaps questioning her own logic--but she refused to yield.

  "Stand aside," Jerret commanded. "I have work to do." When she didn't move, he added, "I can force you aside, if it comes to that."

  Lannon seized Jerret's shoulder. "That's enough. We will hear Dallsa's argument and discuss this peacefully."

  Jerret pulled away from Lannon and sheathed his sword. "Discuss it all you want. What do I care? I'm just earning my share of silver." He walked away from the others and sat with his back to the cave wall, looking sullen.

  "Why do Divine Knights argue?" asked Taith.

  "Differences of opinion," said Lannon, "obviously."

  "Aren't you all supposed to think alike?" asked Taith.

  "Thankfully, no," said Aldreya. "But we will discuss this issue like civilized warriors who respect each other."

  "There is no need for discussion," said Vorden. His yellow eyes narrowed. "These filthy Goblins need to die. And I hate to say this, Lannon, but you're just taking Dallsa's side because she's...your woman. Think about it. In a way, she is. Sorry to be so blunt, but it couldn't be more obvious."

  "My woman?" Lannon was gripped by anger. "That's utter nonsense, Vorden. The Sacred Laws wouldn't allow it. Dallsa is, however, a member of the Council and my good friend. And we will hear her argument."

  "Indeed," said Aldreya. "We're not barbarians." She glared at Jerret. "At least most of us aren't. Go ahead and speak, Dallsa."

  Dallsa cleared her throat. "Thank you. My argument is that as Divine Knights we should protect all life--even Goblins that are peaceful in nature. We defend animals--only killing them for food or clothing. Divine Knights have saved wolves and eagles and other creatures that were being threatened by poachers. So why not these Foul Brothers? Don't they too deserve to live?"

  "I hear you," said Bekka, nodding to Dallsa. "But I disagree. It's not our way to spare Goblins. We must obey the Sacred Laws."

  "They must be destroyed," said Lothrin.

  "All Goblins must die," said Prince Vannas.

  "Here is my expert opinion," said Jace. "Remember, I wrote the book on Goblins. These Foul Brothers will eventually wander from the mountains and our enemies will find them. Then they will be converted into Priests of Tharnin--the most dangerous foes we can face. There shouldn't even be a debate about this. And the Dark Mother is a grave danger as well, for this tree will nurse any and all Goblins and strengthen them. The whole nest must be eradicated."

  Severely outnumbered, Dallsa turned to Lannon for help. "Well?"

  Lannon sighed. He admired her courage and the fact that she valued all life so highly, but he couldn't disobey the Divine Essence. "I'm sorry, Dallsa. But Jace is right. A Mother Nest has to be destroyed."

  Looking saddened, Dallsa lowered her gaze and stepped aside. "Then you do it, Lannon. If you believe they should die, then kill at least one of them yourself. Or would you make someone else do it?"

  Unlike Dallsa, Lannon had killed many Goblins in the past, and it didn't trouble him. It was the duty of a Knight. He drew his sword, knowing he had to prove that he stood by his beliefs. He stepped forward and gazed at the Foul Brothers. They gazed back at him with their dark eyes that seemed to hold a hint of sadness. Lannon hesitated, and troubling thoughts seeped into his mind, as if projected there by the Deep Shadow in an effort to prevent him from completing his task. It wasn't their fault they had been born Goblins. Lannon wasn't fond of killing at all--especially when his foes weren't fighting back. He wanted them to lash out at him,
but they remained calm and passive, waiting and watching.

  Lannon's troubled thoughts annoyed him. He knew it was the Deep Shadow trying to play tricks on him so he would spare the Goblins. It was doing whatever it could to protect the monsters standing before him.

  Suddenly Lannon was smoldering with anger. "Stupid beasts!" he muttered. Something was seizing control of him--a grim feeling of power that flooded through his body. He was a Dark Watchman, not some weak-willed loser who worried about whether or not Goblins should live or die. A quick stroke of his blade would end them, and then all would be well.

  "The Goblins are mine!" he said, raising his sword. This was it. Lannon was going to give himself completely to his power. He was tired of being thought of as a passive fighter who shunned violence. He was convinced that others laughed at him behind his back, thinking that for all his power he was a wimp. It was time to show them what he was made of--that a Dark Watchman should be feared and respected. His sorcery surged into his blade, as he prepared to strike.

  "Don't kill them!" Taith pleaded.

  Lannon heard Taith's voice, and he hesitated. He turned and glared at the boy. "Why should I spare them?"

  "I don't know," said Taith, looking desperate. "But I know you should. Your...your face looks evil, Lannon. You're different!"

  "I'm different?" said Lannon. He pondered that. He didn't think anything about him had changed. "Nonsense, Taith. It's a trick of Tharnin. Now cover your eyes if you can't handle a bit of death and destruction." Lannon chuckled. Taith was so pathetically weak. He would have to learn to toughen up if he wanted to be a Knight. Lannon turned back to his grim work, again preparing to strike.

  Vorden seized Lannon's arm. "Wait...I think the boy is right. You seem different somehow. Let me do this, Lannon."

  Lannon shoved Vorden away. "Mind your own business. You're the one who was tainted by the Deep Shadow, not me. I can control myself." He felt enraged at Vorden for interfering. He wanted to punch him in the jaw.