Timlin hesitated, glancing back at his army, then said, "Vorden doesn't want bloodshed, for some reason that I can't fathom. He wants peace. The rest of the High Council agrees with him--probably because they're afraid not to. Personally, I would prefer we go to war, but my master's word is law. Therefore, I will agree to surrender Dorok's Hand--with some conditions, of course. Will you agree to hear my conditions? If not, then we might as well start the battle right now."
"I will hear the conditions," said Furlus.
"The Blood Legion is very proud," Timlin went on. "We do not take surrender lightly. The Soldiers would prefer not to have to throw down their arms in front of Dremlock's army. Rather, we wish to retreat into the keep, where we will remove our weapons and armor in private. Then we will emerge from the gates unarmed and surrender. You will have possession of Dorok's Hand."
"And you'll do it as soon as we're finished with this discussion?" said Furlus, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I'm tired of waiting. The gates will be opened and the Soldiers will retreat prior to surrendering? And what if it's a trick?"
"What sort of trick would it be?" said Timlin. "To retreat inside and leave the gates open and unguarded? That would be folly."
Furlus sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. Then he said, "What other conditions are there?"
"That the Legion Masters be granted their freedom," said Timlin.
"I refuse that condition," said Furlus, scowling. "The Legion Masters will return to Dremlock to face trial for their crimes."
"Then I simply ask for leniency on us," said Timlin, "due to the fact that we willingly agree to surrender with no bloodshed. Is that fair?"
Furlus considered it, then nodded. "I suppose that's a fair request. But once the gates are open, your Soldiers will have one hour to remove their weapons and armor and prepare for surrender. After that, my army will enter the fortress. If it turns out this is some form of deception, it will go very badly for you."
"You've made a wise choice, Timlin," said Aldreya, smiling. "This decision will preserve many lives."
Jerret said nothing, not liking this turn of events at all.
"Then go now!" Furlus ordered. "You have one hour."
With a nod--and a malicious grin directed at Jerret--Timlin wheeled his horse about and galloped back to his Soldiers. As Dremlock's army sat watching, the Legion Soldiers began to pull the gates open--a sea of torches parting as men tugged on the huge ropes.
"I can hardly believe it," said Furlus. "They actually plan to surrender. This is not typical of the Blood Legion at all."
"It must be a trap," said Jerret. "Maybe we should attack."
"It's not Dremlock's way, Squire," said Furlus, shrugging. "We are bound by the Sacred Laws to allow them a chance to surrender."
Yet when the gates were barely open, they suddenly shuddered and burst apart as a massive bulk slammed through them. The gates were struck with such force from within the keep that they sent men tumbling through the snow--some severely wounded--as they were shoved open. For a moment, revealed by torchlight, a huge, horned head and scaly body was visible, framed in the tunnel mouth.
Cries of shock and dismay arose from both Dremlock's army and the Blood Legion, as the Dragon soared out into open air. It rose up into the sky for a moment, its long, serpent-like body outlined against the stars, and then it descended on the men by the gates. The Dragon's stingers ripped into the Soldiers and several of them went limp--killed instantly by deadly poison. The beast hovered for a moment, the corpses still hanging from the stingers below its body.
Then the Legion Soldiers started to flee through the gates into the keep. Those on the platforms had to climb down rope ladders and risk the Dragon's wrath. Meanwhile, Goblins poured from the smaller cave mouths along the mountain wall, charging toward the Divine Knights.
Furlus was finally able to gather his wits, and he howled at the Red Knights, "Bring Vannas to me and surround us. Throw your lances at the Dragon!" His eyes blazing, he raised his huge battle axe.
Aldreya's stone dagger burst into flames, and Jerret drew his sword. The two Squires exchanged a horrified glance.
A war, unlike anything they'd imagined, had begun.
***
Tenneth Bard stood before Lannon in silence, as if waiting for the Squire to make the first move. The ancient sorcerer seemed unfathomable to Lannon, with his face and body that were half blended with shifting shadows. Somehow Lannon had known all along they would meet again. But Lannon was in no mood to deal with Tenneth Bard. Vorden's betrayal of his trust--as predictable as it should have been--still smoldered within Lannon, and when the shock of seeing Tenneth Bard wore off, his anger returned. The strange force within him was so insistent on breaking free that Lannon felt like he might explode.
"Glad you could make it," Tenneth Bard said, in a low, inhuman voice. "I wasn't sure I would ever get this amazing opportunity. You see, in this land, my power is much greater than it is in your realm. Here, I can force you to submit to the will of Tharnin quite easily."
"I'll never serve you!" Lannon said, his rage suddenly directed at Tenneth Bard. "And furthermore, something is wrong with me. You better stay away. I feel like I'm going to explode."
Tenneth Bard seemed to contemplate Lannon's words. Then he said, "You're terrified of this realm. I can see your body tremble. And a shadow like blood hangs over you--your fear revealed in physical form. Emotions can sometimes be seen here by the naked eye. You cannot hide your terror, young Squire of Dremlock. You could make it easy on yourself and just give in. You'll come to love this realm and feel restored by it. I'm giving you a chance to submit willingly, but if you refuse, I'll force you to surrender."
Lannon realized Tenneth Bard had no clue what Lannon was experiencing. The sorcerer seemed so certain of himself, his ego and arrogance having grown to monstrous proportions over the centuries he'd been alive. "It isn't fear. Something else is going on--something that could kill both of us!"
Tenneth Bard laughed. "You are no threat to me, Lannon Sunshield. You never were. You think I haven't dealt with your kind before? Some of the Dark Watchmen fell victim to me and became my servants--and they were older and more experienced than you. You're just a lad who can't even begin to understand his power. You arrived at Dremlock as its savior, but it was far too late in the game. You are witnessing the fall of the Divine Knights. And in spite of my hatred for Dremlock and their grotesque god, it is a sad passing for a kingdom that has endured so long. Having lived for well over a thousand years, I have a deep sense of history, Lannon. I hate to see ancient traditions come to an end. Yet Dremlock stands in the way of the expansion of Tharnin and simply must be destroyed."
"You only care about Tharnin's expansion," said Lannon, "because you're a puppet. Why else would you care?"
"Such a naive lad," mused Tenneth Bard. "You don't understand the ways of the Deep Shadow. My relationship with Tharnin is mutually beneficial. I serve it, and in return I receive power beyond your comprehension."
"Then why did you break Tharnin law?" said Lannon. "You weren't supposed to use the gauntlet or summon the Dragon."
"I didn't use the gauntlet," said Tenneth Bard, "or summon the Dragon. Vorden did those things by his own choice. It was a stroke of good fortune that the Hand of Tharnin ended up in possession of someone like Vorden. The gauntlet is perfectly suited to his personality and immense talent. You should be proud of what your friend has become and what he has achieved."
"I don't have time for pointless discussion," said Lannon, overwhelmed with disgust at Tenneth Bard's words. "I need to help the Knights deal with Vorden and his Dragon. I strongly suggest you don't try to stop me. Not this time." Lannon started toward the stairs
With a hiss, Tenneth Bard lunged forward and seized Lannon's shoulders. Lannon was instantly paralyzed as dark sorcery flooded into him. "It is time for you to serve me!" said the sorcerer. "The only puppet will be you!"
The dark force inside Lannon began to writhe about fra
ntically, filling him with panic. The pressure inside him became unbearable. "Let go of me!" he yelled. "Or we're both going to die!"
But Tenneth Bard ignored Lannon and continued to flood him with dark sorcery. The pressure turned to pain inside Lannon, as if his insides were being torn apart, and at last the dark force congealed into something recognizable--a dense wave of energy fueled by the Eye of Divinity. The pain and pressure vanished and Lannon found himself in complete control of the wave.
With a cry of triumph, Lannon unleashed the energy into Tenneth Bard, ripping the sorcerer away from him. For a moment, Tenneth Bard was suspended in the air, his violet eyes wide with shock as the energy hammered into him. And then he was flung from the platform and off into the mist.
Lannon fell to his knees, the breath rushing out of him. The energy wave was gone, leaving him feeling empty and drained. He now had a pounding headache and was dizzy. But Tenneth Bard was gone--struck with a force so terrible it might have finally sent him to his doom.
Lannon rose and headed down the stairs that wound around the pillar. He wanted to hurry, but the perils of the stairway wouldn't allow it. Everything seemed to have a dream-like quality in his mind--Vorden tricking him, the sudden appearance of the Dragon, the encounter with Tenneth Bard--and most of all, that astonishing wave of energy that had burst forth from within him. Could that have been the mysterious power called Dark Wave that Taris had told Lannon about when the Squire was first on his way to Dremlock? "What does the Eye of Divinity do?" Lannon had asked. And Taris had replied: "The answer to that question is shrouded in mystery. As far as I know, it works in three stages--Sight, Body, and something called Dark Wave. Sight allows you to gain knowledge of things--even secret or guarded knowledge. Body creates physical changes upon a person and their surroundings, which can vary greatly depending upon the user. Dark Wave, however, is a mysterious force that few have ever gained use of. Little is written about it in the records of Dremlock Kingdom."
If Lannon had indeed gained the use of Dark Wave, could he use it again to help defeat the Dragon? He felt thoroughly drained, and he doubted he could summon even a trace of it. Also, it had seemed to appear on its own, in reaction to the extreme presence of the Deep Shadow. Lannon suspected it was a force he would never be able to call upon at will or control.
After a long and frightful journey through the fog, in which the strange shadows lurched out at him frantically yet never touched him, Lannon at last climbed from the pit and into the cavern of Dorok's Hand.
Lannon stood by the edge of the hole for a moment to catch his breath, and then he spotted Vorden--who lay slumped against the wall. And in the tunnel that led from the cavern, Lannon saw the broken bodies of some Legion Soldiers lying about. Lannon hurried over to Vorden and knelt by him. Vorden's armor was split open and he was sitting in a pool of blood.
In spite of everything, Lannon's heart lurched the sight of his fallen friend. He shook him, and Vorden opened his eyes. "What happened to you?"
Vorden gave him a pained smile. "The Dragon went crazy and attacked me and some of the Soldiers. Guess it wasn't so easy to control after all. Did Tenneth Bard manage to convert you? Are you on my side now?"
"I think I killed him," said Lannon.
Vorden sighed. "A lot of planning for nothing, then. Why are you so foolishly stubborn? You deny yourself a far better life. Anyway, I haven't quite healed yet. Now is your chance to finish me off."
Lannon rose. "I never wanted to kill you, Vorden. And I won't do so now, even though you served me to Tenneth Bard on a platter."
Vorden chuckled. "Of course. How endlessly noble you are."
"How can we defeat the Dragon?" Lannon asked, his heart fluttering with panic. "There has to be a way!"
Vorden shook his head. "Just stay here, Lannon. If you go out there, you'll get yourself killed. The Great Dragons of Tharnin are invincible."
"I defeated Tenneth Bard," Lannon pointed out.
"But Tenneth Bard is a man," said Vorden. "Very old and powerful, but still just a man. A Dragon is something beyond the comprehension of mortals--as old as time itself and without a weakness.""
With a groan, Vorden rose to his feet. He stood swaying for a moment, and then the stones of the Hand of Tharnin glowed with their cold blue fire. Vorden seemed to regain his strength, and he clenched the gauntlet into a fist. "You're not going anywhere, Lannon. The Dragon will do what I summoned it to do--which is kill every last Knight of Dremlock."
"And Legion Soldiers too, by the look of it," said Lannon, pointing at the dead bodies in the tunnel. "It will destroy everyone!"
Vorden shrugged. "I don't care if a few Soldiers die--as long as Dremlock is brought to the ground."
Lannon started toward the tunnel, but Vorden seized his arm with the gauntlet. "Didn't you hear what I just said? You're not going anywhere!"
***
The first wave of Goblins reached Furlus and the two Squires before the Red Knights could gather around them. But Furlus was ready. He leapt from his horse onto a Jackal and split the creature in two with his axe. Jerret beheaded another one that tried to knock him off his horse, and Aldreya lit two of them on fire with her dagger. And then the Red Knights were there, some of them thrusting their lances into the snow and drawing swords and axes for close combat.
Three Pit Crawlers and a number of Goblin Wolves had also entered the fray, as well as four Ogres. The hissing Pit Crawlers struck at Knights left and right, bringing some of them down with their deadly poison. One Knight was lifted by an Ogre and strangled to death in the air, before being flung into the snow. Another Ogre, pierced by burning lances, went berserk and started swinging its club-like fists at whoever was in range--including other Goblins.
"Burn the Dragon!" Furlus howled at Vannas.
But the prince was already attempting to do just that. He held the White Flamestone in his cupped hands, and the blinding beam of energy that radiated from it struck the Dragon repeatedly. But the Dragon would not remain still long enough for the white fire to damage it. It kept moving about--attacking Knights, Legion Soldiers (those who hadn't yet escaped into the keep and some who decided to join the Divine Knights in fighting the Dragon), and Goblins. Wherever it flew, it left dead bodies from its flailing stingers.
Vannas cried out in frustration, turning constantly in the saddle and trying to lock onto his target. Meanwhile, the Goblins closed in on him from all sides--including from the sky--in an effort to dislodge the Flamestone from his hand. At one point a Vulture swooped down and almost pulled it loose, but Aldreya struck the creature with a fireball from her dagger and it flew off leaving a trail of smoke. The Dragon, however, didn't seem to acknowledge Vannas as a threat--aside from darting away whenever Vannas' white fire made contract with it. It simply killed whoever was in its path, as if carrying out some mindless command of destruction.
Due to the chaos caused by the Dragon, the Goblins were able to break through Vannas' outer defenses--to find Jace, Thrake, Shennen, Trenton, and Furlus waiting for them. The four Knights and the towering sorcerer slew many Goblins between them, but Trenton wore down quickly from his injuries. Three Jackals and a Wolf finally managed to isolate and surrounded Trenton. They leapt onto him, ripping away his sword and bearing him down into the snow.
Jerret was close to Trenton when the Investigator went down, and the Squire jumped from his horse and rushed over to help. Trenton was lost from view beneath four furry Goblins that were ripping and tearing at him. For an instant, Jerret thought Trenton Shadowbane was going to be torn to pieces.
And then the Goblins were flung viciously away from Trenton as if struck with a battering ram. Where the Investigator had once been, the hideous wolf-monster rose up from the snow, its muzzle and claws dripping blood.
Jerret shrank back, but Trenton bounded right past the Squire and threw himself into a crowd of Goblins, his claws slashing out with devastating force. Jerret found himself suddenly very grateful that Trenton was on his side.
/> A Jackal leapt over Furlus' head and flew toward Vannas, but Jace caught the beast in midair and wrestled it down into the snow. The sorcerer's huge fist rose and fell upon his foe like a hammer, crushing its skull.
Nevertheless, the Knights were having an extremely difficult time protecting Vannas, and the prince was nearly knocked from his horse more than once. Some of the Red Knights hurled their heavy, burning Lances against the Dragon, but the weapons simply bounced harmlessly off its scales. The sorcerers tried to burn the beast with thrown fire from their blades, but that too had no apparent affect on it. Meanwhile, the dead were piling up in the snow--those that weren't hanging from the Dragon's stingers as it hovered. The landscape was littered with dead and injured Knights, Goblins, Legion Soldiers, and Greywind horses.
"Vannas, hurry and kill that Dragon!" Furlus roared at him, his blood-soaked axe rising and falling with insane fury.
His face contorted in anxiety and frustration, Vannas rose up in the saddle and tried to get a better angle on the Dragon--just as a Goblin Wolf darted around a Red Knight, leapt through the air, and seized the White Flamestone in its mouth. It landed in the snow and fled, smoke billowing from its jaws.
"They've taken it!" Vannas howled, motioning desperately at the fleeing Wolf. In his panic, the prince nearly toppled from the saddle.
"Trenton!" Furlus cried. "Don't let it escape!"
But Trenton, or the wolf-monster he'd become, was already bounding after the fleeing Goblin. He quickly dragged it down from behind. The White Flamestone flew from the Wolf's jaws and was caught in the air by one of the Ogres, who then tried to flee toward the caves with it, its long legs taking it swiftly through the snow. But the Ogre ran too close to the Dragon, and a stinger shot out and buried itself in the Ogre's neck. The giant took a few staggering steps, looking uncertain and clutching at the dark tube that ran from its neck. Then it collapsed into the snow, the White Flamestone still clutched in its fist.
Knights: Book 02 - The Hand of Tharnin Page 29
