In a panic, Lannon ripped the Hand of Tharnin from his throat and shoved Vorden away. "You want me to go in that pit and become a monster like you! Well, I'll never do it, Vorden! I'd rather die!"
Vorden slammed his gauntlet against the cavern floor and chunks of rock exploded into the air. "I'm not going to kill you, Lannon. Not yet, anyway. But I will render you immobile and force you to go with me!"
Vorden again hurled himself at Lannon and the two grappled with each other. Vorden threw Lannon against the cavern wall, but Lannon shielded himself with the Eye of Divinity and suffered no damage from the impact.
Enraged, Vorden charged at him again. Lannon stepped aside and, using the power of the Eye, flung Vorden against the rock wall with shattering force. Vorden staggered, then whirled around, the blue stones in the gauntlet glowing almost white hot. "Don't force me to crush you, Lannon!"
When Lannon tried to seize him again, Vorden hurled a fireball at the Squire. Lannon froze the blazing orb on instinct and flung it back at Vorden--who simply batted it aside with the Hand of Tharnin. The fireball struck the cavern wall and exploded into a shower of bouncing sparks.
Vorden hesitated, his rage giving way to a sudden, hurt look. "I never thought you would betray me like this, Lannon. All I asked was that you accompany me on a brief journey. I let you come into my fortress and walk freely about--not as a prisoner but as a trusted friend. I've offered you unlimited power. Yet this is how you respond--to ignore a simple request and lash out at me in anger?"
"I'm sorry, Vorden. I just can't do it." Lannon folded his arms across his chest to show that he wasn't going to budge.
"Then I will go alone," said Vorden, his yellow eyes narrowing. "And when I return from the land of shadows, there will be no mercy left in my heart. I won't just destroy Dremlock--but all of Silverland! Every man, woman, and child--slain! Every town--burned to ash!"
Lannon gazed at him in disbelief. "You would never do such a thing, Vorden, not even...even like you are now. You're lying to me!"
"I'm capable of anything," said Vorden, sighing. He seemed to wrestle inwardly with himself for a few moments. At last he added, "Maybe I just want you to come with me to...to try to talk me out of all this. Maybe I want you to stop me somehow. I'm out of control. Even my master has abandoned me now and gone back into hiding. He gave me power over the Blood Legion and now believes it was a grave mistake. The Hand of Tharnin is too powerful and too wicked for anyone to control. It should never have been created. You're my last hope, Lannon!"
Lannon glanced at the pit, wondering if Vorden was simply trying a new tactic to get him to go down there. And why was Vorden so desperate to get Lannon to go? Yet Vorden's eyes did look sincerely haunted. Lannon tried to peer into Vorden's thoughts, but the Hand of Tharnin turned his gaze aside.
"What do you hope to accomplish down there?" Lannon asked.
"I was going to command a terrible beast to fight for the Blood Legion," said Vorden. "This gauntlet was really designed to control the great beasts of Tharnin--creatures so powerful they typically can never be controlled by anyone. Any other abilities the gauntlet possesses are secondary. But now I want to sever my link to the creature that I've summoned. You can help me break that link--and help me rid myself of this terrible device. If we take it into the pit, we can destroy it!"
"That's a rather sudden change of heart," said Lannon. "Seems a bit too sudden. Are you trying to deceive me, Vorden, just to get me to go down there?"
Vorden shook his head. "Lannon, I'm fighting a horrific battle within that you can't imagine. Sometimes my mind is gone--enslaved entirely by the demon that lives in this gauntlet. Other times, I awaken as if from a fog, but it doesn't last long. I'm having one of those moments of clarity. When you threw me against the wall, it jarred me back to my senses. But it will fade quickly!"
Lannon groaned in frustration, almost certain that Vorden was tricking him. But Lannon was a hopeless optimist and couldn't ignore the slim chance that Vorden was being truthful. "Fine, I'll do it," he said at last. "But if things don't seem right, I'll turn back immediately and never trust you again."
Vorden nodded. "You won't regret this, my friend."
As they stood at the edge of the pit, Lannon found himself gazing down into a mass of curling fog. A wooden ladder descended into the fog. He turned a questioning gaze toward Vorden. "It's just mist down there."
"Just follow me," said Vorden, and he started down the ladder. Moments later, Vorden was completely concealed by the fog.
Reluctantly, Lannon climbed down after him, until he was standing on solid rock and engulfed by the mist. He gagged on the aura of the Deep Shadow. He could see nothing but the fog around him in the faint torchlight from above.
Suddenly, a blue glow broke through the fog--the stones from Vorden's gauntlet. "Follow the light, Lannon. A tunnel awaits us."
Lannon followed, but after a few steps, a shock suddenly tore through his body. His flesh shivered and his knees buckled. He was suddenly sick to his stomach. It almost felt like something was writhing around inside him--a dark force seeking to break free. He groaned and clutched his belly.
The blue light paused. "What's wrong, Lannon?"
"I don't know. I feel very strange."
"It's probably just the aura of the Deep Shadow," said Vorden. "It's immensely strong here. You should get used to it after a bit."
Feeling dizzy, Lannon started off again as Vorden led the way. Shadows seemed to move through the fog here and there--some with sinister shapes. The mist felt cold and clingy against Lannon's flesh, and chills crept over him constantly.
They walked for what seemed like an hour through a foggy tunnel, and then suddenly the walls of the tunnel vanished and the fog fell back a bit. Lannon could make out the shapes of huge, twisted trees growing right up out of the stone--the Dark Mothers. The foul stench of the Bloodlands hung in the air. Looking up, Lannon saw a ceiling of glowing fog about thirty feet above him.
"Where are we?" asked Lannon.
"We're on the edge of the realm of Tharnin," said Vorden. His face looked sinister--half covered in shadow in the glow of the fog. But he smiled reassuringly. "Nothing to worry about here, though. It's a safe place."
A bit farther on they came to the base of a huge pillar that rose up into the mist. A stone stairway wound upward around it. "This is a Summoning Platform," said Vorden. "This is where I will make contact with the beast and send it back to its lair. Then, together, we will free me from the curse of this gauntlet. But we must hurry! I don't know how long my mind will remain free of possession. Once the demon has rested and gained strength, I will be lost again."
It was a long climb up the pillar stairway, which led them into the ceiling of glowing fog above. The fog was so thick Lannon couldn't see the edge of the stairway and he stayed as close to the pillar as possible for fear of falling. Shadowy figures lurched out at Lannon, startling him, before vanishing just as quickly. Lannon walked on shaky legs, thinking each step could be his last. Vorden, however, strode confidently up the steps, whistling some tune Lannon had never heard before. Lannon wasn't sure if he was even in the real world anymore, or if he'd entered some strange dream realm. The stone pillar looked webbed with veins and was warm to the touch--as if it were alive. Massive tree branches reached forth from the fog, some extending so close to the pillar that Lannon had to duck under them. Life seemed to be everywhere here, but it was barely recognizable--barren and shadowy creations always partially concealed by the mist.
At one point Lannon stumbled over a loose stone and started to fall, but Vorden whirled around and seized him with the Hand of Tharnin.
"Be careful, Lannon. It's a long drop."
Lannon flinched away from the gauntlet. "It's hard to see anything. Why all the fog, anyway?"
Vorden shrugged. "It's just the way of things here. As I said, we are on the edge of Tharnin, and it is a very foggy realm...filled with hidden secrets. The fog should slack off a bit as we climb high
er. And why should the one who possesses the Eye of Divinity move so blindly?"
Lannon didn't answer. He had no intention of using his power to scan the fog, but instead kept it close to him to shield his body from harm. He didn't want to know what terrible secrets the mist concealed. This world was so different from his own it seemed to shock his system. It was as if he'd entered some spirit realm where living energy existed but life as Lannon knew it did not belong.
They continued upward until they reached the top of the pillar, which was a stone platform with three towering statues of Knights standing in a triangular formation. Each Knight held a different weapon, the business end of which rested on the floor--sword, axe, and hammer. Between the three statues was a circle of runes on the floor. The mist was more distant here and seemed to have an almost bluish hue to it, emitting a bright light upon the platform.
The sight of the Knightly statues left Lannon feeling a bit relieved. This, at least, was something he recognized and understood. The statues looked evil, and like the pillar itself, they were webbed with veins as if made of living rock--but they were a sign of human life and of a world Lannon could relate to.
Vorden stepped into the circle and raised his gauntlet. The blue stones became white hot, and the metal of the gauntlet glowed red. Lannon shrank back from the sudden heat and shielded himself with the Eye of Divinity. For a moment, Vorden stood there with his glowing gauntlet, as the three statues around him began to burn with a blue fire. Then the device seemed to cool again, along with the statues, and Vorden lowered his arm.
He turned and smiled. "Well, that takes care of that."
Something about Vorden's smile chilled Lannon. "So...so you sent whatever beast you'd summoned back to its lair? It's finished, then?"
Vorden laughed. "Look behind you, Lannon."
Even as Vorden spoke, Lannon became aware of a terrible stench--like a mixture of wet earth, decayed flesh, and pure evil. A blast of foul breath hit him from behind. Lannon whirled around--to see a nightmare.
The beast was a winged worm, a Great Dragon of Tharnin, hovering in the fog next to the platform. It was at least sixty-feet long from its horned head to its spiked tail--looking like a giant serpent with rows of small wings that beat so swiftly they were barely visible. It hovered like a dragonfly, and Lannon knew in an instant that it was capable of immense speed in spite of its bulk. Its scales seemed like living entities, shifting about as if each one were aware of its surroundings. Hanging from the scales were tube-shaped extensions that, with a black, curved spike on the end of each, resembled stinging weapons of some sort. The Dragon's head was the most hideous (yet captivating) thing Lannon had ever looked upon--two large, bulbous purple eyes with a hypnotic depth of color shades and textures and a long, wrinkled snout full of oversized teeth. Aside from all that, the creature seemed half-blended with shadows that squirmed over its body--shadows that, along with the moving scales--made the Dragon's entire bulk writhe in a repulsive fashion.
Lannon simply stood and gazed into the endless depths of those purple eyes, waiting to be destroyed. The Eye of Divinity retreated back inside him, his power useless against the colossal might of the beast before him.
But then the Eye suddenly exploded to life, and Lannon again felt sick to his stomach. Something as hideous as the Dragon seemed to be clawing its way to the surface within him--something utterly terrifying. Glancing down, Lannon saw that a shadow seemed to be covering his body--a shadow that had a crimson hue like blood. He thought the Eye was having some strange reaction to the overwhelming presence of the Deep Shadow, but he had no idea what it was. He remembered Jace's vision--of Lannon covered in blood--and wondered if this was what he'd seen.
Suddenly, Lannon was overcome by rage. He turned his back on the Dragon, not caring if it devoured him. He was flooded with a righteous anger that dissolved his terror. "You betrayed me, Vorden!
"Of course I did," said Vorden, laughing. "And it was so easy to do. Don't think ill of me, Lannon. I brought you here for your own good."
Lannon could only shake his head. "How is this for my own good? You're full of lies and you don't even know it!"
"I will be returning to my fortress," said Vorden. He pointed beyond Lannon at the Dragon. "And my little friend here will follow me. Soon it will emerge from the gates of Dorok's Hand and begin its assault on Dremlock and the Divine Essence. Nothing will stop it. There is no force in existence that can destroy a Great Dragon of Tharnin. They have existed since the dawn of time. To be honest, this gauntlet was not created to control all of the great beasts, for that would be impossible. It was created specifically to control this Dragon, after decades of careful research and sorcery experiments. It was created to destroy Dremlock Kingdom!"
"I believed in you, Vorden," said Lannon. "Even as you are now, I still believed there was some of your old self left in there." He clenched his hands into fists, overwhelmed with bitterness. "Well, I don't believe it now!"
"You were a fool to come here," said Vorden. "The Hand of Tharnin holds complete dominance over my soul--yet I willingly embrace it. This device was banished by the Tharnin Lords. They fear its power and consider it unstable. It was on its way to be destroyed when it fell into the hands of the farmer Vellera. My master--Tenneth Bard--then opted to violate Tharnin law and attempt to use Vellera to assassinate you, Lannon. When that failed, and the gauntlet fell into my possession, my master decided to go all the way and summon the Dragon to destroy Dremlock. And that's where things stand."
Lannon stood in silence, glowering at Vorden. Whatever dark force was writhing inside of him seemed about to break free.
Vorden sneered at him. "Goodbye, Lannon." With that, he started toward the stairway. "By the way, I betrayed you even worse than you thought. Soon you will find only love for the Deep Shadow in your heart."
As Lannon watched, a figure stepped out from behind one of the statues--a figure cloaked in black, with a face of violet eyes and shifting shadows.
"Tenneth Bard," Lannon groaned, his anger instantly replaced by sheer dread.
Chapter 20: The Behemoth
Before the gates of Dorok's Hand, with a few stars beginning to burn in the evening sky, Timlin and Furlus sat facing each other on horseback. Jerret and Aldreya sat beside Furlus on their horses, holding torches. The Tower Master had requested they ride with him to speak with Timlin in the hope that they could help persuade Timlin to surrender. The Squires gazed up fearfully at the catapults and archers on the torch-lit platforms by the gates, knowing that death could strike from above in an instant. They didn't want to be there--such easy targets out in the open--but Furlus Goblincrusher was not to be refused.
Jerret needed only a brief glance at Timlin's cold eyes and hard face to be convinced Timlin would never surrender. Timlin seemed to harbor a new confidence and maturity to go along with his fantastic-looking white and blue armor. He seemed like a leader, and even though Timlin had aligned himself with evil, Jerret couldn't help but feel impressed and a bit overshadowed. Aldreya, however, looked saddened and was clearly not impressed by Timlin's aura of importance.
Jerret wondered where Vorden and Lannon were--and if Lannon was dead or had been enslaved by the Deep Shadow. He knew Aldreya was wondering the same thing. He couldn't imagine what horrible fate Lannon had come to beyond those huge gates, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to know.
Jerret made eye contact with Timlin, and Timlin's lips parted in a slight smile--as if he were amused Jerret had made the journey.
"So you're a pawn of Tharnin now," said Furlus. "Congratulations, Timlin. How does it feel to know you threw away an honorable career at Dremlock for a life of slavery and evil? Such a waste of a talented Squire."
"It feels rather good," said Timlin, smiling. "I never fit in at Dremlock and always had to pretend to be something I wasn't. Now I'm free to be who I truly am--with all of my faults. No one questions me here." He chuckled. "They wouldn't dare, or they might catch an arrow through the eye."
"We want you to surrender, Timlin," said Aldreya. "You don't have to do this. Dremlock doesn't want a war. If you surrender, you can begin to make a new life for yourself--away from all of this evil."
"That's right," Jerret mumbled. "We don't want a war." Actually, Jerret did want a war. He wanted to test out his sword skills on Goblins or Legion Soldiers--whoever got in his way. And above all he wanted to test his skills on Vorden. He was certain the Deep Shadow was in his heart--but only traces of it, filling him with a desire for combat and revenge. It had turned Jerret a bit savage. He knew it, yet he told no one and did nothing to change it. He liked who he'd become--with his newfound motivations, skill, and sense of destiny.
"Well, I do want a war," said Timlin. He grinned, his eyes showing an evil glitter in the torchlight. "And what I want, my men had better want. They're not allowed to think for themselves."
Furlus sneered. "So you're free to be a bully here--something you could never be at Dremlock. But you can't even begin to imagine what you've given up and the depths to which you've fallen. When you finally do realize it, it will come as a great shock to you. I pity you, Timlin."
Timlin shrugged. "Pity? Who cares? And you're wrong. I already suffered greatly thinking of what I lost by betraying Dremlock. It gnawed at me constantly. However, now I just don't care. I have power, and power cures every ill. Whenever something troubles me now, I just take it out on someone else."
Furlus nodded. "As I said, you're a bully."
"No," said Timlin, "what I am is the Blue Knight of the Blood Legion--second in command to the Black Knight. Are you second in command, Furlus? No, you're third on the list. A distant third, in fact, if you consider reputation. You'll never be second in command as long as Taris is alive."
"Enough of this silly talk," said Furlus. "You speak as if this is all some childish game. But the reality is that we are facing war, and many lives are at stake. Now are you going to surrender, or shall we get on with storming the gates? And you must know by now that those gates will come down, and when they do, and the Divine Knights flood Dorok's Hand, death will come quickly and decisively. Nothing will stop this army--not Vorden and his Hand of Tharnin, not even Lannon if you've done something to twist his mind."
Knights: Book 02 - The Hand of Tharnin Page 28
