Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) (29 page)

The
Lawkeeper nodded. “Very well. Kill her.”

“It
will be my pleasure,” boomed the Thallite. With a grunt, he threw all of
his strength into turning the crank, determined to tear the young Knight apart.
But the crank snapped off in his hand.

The
giant held up the broken crank. “Whoops.”

The
Lawkeeper’s face contorted with rage. “So she has defeated The Golden
Truth. That has never been done before. We’ll see how she fares with the
gallows! Build me a platform at once. We will hang the three Knights.”

Ethella
entered the tent, the blue glow from her staff falling upon them. “We
don’t have time for that. We can execute them with sword or bow.” Her eyes
sparkled with evil. “Or I could just do it myself.”

“No,”
said the Lawkeeper. “I want them hung—a traditional execution. I don’t
care about being in a hurry, and I don’t care about the storm. She escaped The
Golden Truth, but she will not escape a stout rope!”

It
took them less than an hour to construct a platform, during which time the
storm only grew worse. The platform stood out in the open, with three ropes
hanging down—one for each Knight.

Galvia,
Wreld, and Garaloth were taken atop the platform, their wrists shackled behind
their backs. A rope was placed around each neck.

“This
is the end for all of you,” said the Lawkeeper. “Stand there for a
moment and contemplate that. Your precious god won’t save you. He leaves you to
hang from the neck.” Lightning struck close by, and the Lawkeeper shrank
back. He gazed warily at the sky.

“Don’t
kill them!” Taith begged.

“Silence,
boy,” said the Lawkeeper, his hand on Taith’s shoulder. “You will be
better off without them. Their kingdom is doomed.”

Garaloth
turned to Galvia, his eyes full of despair. “How can this happen? The
Divine Essence spoke through me—as if I have a great destiny as a Knight. Why
would our god do that and then abandon me?”

“I
don’t know,” said Galvia, which was the truth.

“It’s
not over yet,” said Wreld, but his expression showed the doubt he was
feeling. “Maybe Lannon and Prince Vannas will save us.”

Galvia
bowed her head and didn’t reply.

“It
can’t end this way,” said Garaloth. “It’s not fair! I’m not ready to
die. I…I haven’t done anything yet. I haven’t made a name for myself. If I
die now, I will be forgotten.”

 
“You won’t be forgotten,” said
Galvia. “The words the Divine Essence spoke to Lothrin will always be
remembered—words that came from your lips, Garaloth.” It was the only
comfort she had to offer. She too desperately wanted to live on. There was so
much more she wanted to accomplish. She had done so well in her brief time at
Dremlock and Ollanhar, rising quickly through the ranks to become a respected
Knight and member of the Council. The thought of it ending on this night was
nearly unbearable, but she saw no way out. Her parents would be devastated, and
she hated the thought of them suffering over her death.

“If
this is the end,” said Wreld, “I want to say I have truly enjoyed
serving with the two of you. You are both great Knights.”

“As
are you, Wreld,” said Galvia. “Yes, this could very well be the end
for us. Try to find peace in your hearts. Take comfort in knowing we did all we
could to serve our god and kingdom.”

Wreld
sighed. “Soon we will rest forever.”

“But
we can’t give up!” said Garaloth, panic in his eyes. “Lannon!”
he called out. “Prince Vannas! Come and help us!”

The
soldier gagged him with a strip of cloth.

“They
won’t make it in time,” said Ethella, with a laugh. “In fact, they
might never return at all—considering what they’re facing.”

“It
is time to get this over with,” said the Lawkeeper. “Galvia shall be
first.” He signaled to one of his warriors who stood atop the platform.
“Proceed with her execution.”

The
time for hesitation was over. Galvia was a Grey Dwarf, and seldom did one of
her kind die without struggling to the last breath. Summoning her skill of
Fire, she melted through her irons and then plunged her burning hands through
the soldier’s chest, killing him instantly. She shoved his dead body from the
platform, and with a cry of rage, she leapt straight toward the Lawkeeper.

The
Lawkeeper took a step back, his eyes wide in shock. But Ethella was there to
meet Galvia—blue lightning from her staff freezing the Dwarf. Galvia fell to
her knees in the mud, energy rippling over her body.

“I’ve
had enough!” the Lawkeeper bellowed. “Shoot them now!” He
motioned to his soldiers, and they raised their crossbows.

Galvia
made peace with her soul and waited. She had done all she could, and there was
simply nothing left.

The
bowstrings released their deadly bolts.

Chapter 15:

The
Gauntlet of Axes

It
was a cloudy, cool morning when Faindan Stillsword reached Ollanhar Tower. His
heart was heavy with gloom as he gazed up at the dark keep, for he believed
this was the day he would lose his Knighthood. He had violated the Sacred Laws
in severing and destroying his own hand, and he had disobeyed Aldreya’s command
by going to Ollanhar instead of Dremlock.

A
Divine Knight must never bring serious harm to his body. To do so, even to
relieve suffering, is a grave offense against the gift of life.
Those were the words of the
Divine Essence. Faindan pondered them, searching for a loophole, but there was
none to be found. Clearly, he had cut off his hand strictly to relieve
temporary suffering. It had served no other benefit. Faindan would have likely
recovered fully had he simply endured the pain.

He
hesitated, wondering if he should head for the stable, get on his horse, and
ride for Dremlock. He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to come here and put
himself at the mercy of Furlus Goblincrusher. Furlus was a sullen Grey Dwarf
and it seemed unlikely he would take pity on Faindan.

“What
was I thinking?” Faindan whispered to himself. He gazed at the statues of
the two Dark Watchmen that stood on either side of the door, and the gloom in
his heart deepened. The weight of the ancient tower seemed to bear down on him,
challenging his foolish reasoning. He turned to leave.

But
again a nagging voice in his mind told him to remain, and without giving it
another thought, he strode up to the door—where a tall Red Knight was standing
guard, a man Faindan didn’t recognize.

“If
he’s not too busy,” said Faindan, “I would like to meet with Furlus
Goblincrusher. I…was sent by Aldreya Silverhawk.” That last statement
wasn’t entirely true, and Faindan winced as he spoke.

The
Red Knight yelled out a few words, and the door was opened from the inside,
where another Red Knight waited.

Faindan
entered the tower and found Furlus in the Entrance Chamber, seated at a table
and studying a map of Gallamerth. The Tower Master glanced up briefly and then
went back to examining the map.

“Not
much left that Bellis hasn’t taken,” Furlus grunted. “Now Gloneharn
Kingdom has fallen. Just found that out today. They fought a bitter battle, and
nearly all of them were killed. A nearby town was demolished, and everyone in
it was executed. Bellis has been growing increasingly brutal.”

“Terrible,”
Faindan mumbled. “If I may sit down, I would like a moment of your time,
Master Furlus. I know you are very busy…”

Furlus
didn’t answer for several moments. His beard got in the way of the map and he
brushed it aside. “When I look at this map, as I do each day, I still can
barely believe what I’m seeing—that one kingdom has expanded to such an
astonishing degree. King Verlamer is a master strategist.”

“May
I sit?” Faindan asked again.

Furlus
glanced up. “Lost a hand, did you?”

“That’s
what I came here to talk about,” said Faindan. “Actually, I was
ordered by Aldreya to go to Dremlock. I refused that order and came here.”

Furlus
raised his eyebrows. “I remember now. You left with the others during the
Festival of Souls. How are they doing?”

“Just
fine,” said Faindan. “Last I knew. But I’ve returned here to discuss
my personal situation.”

Furlus
motioned for him to sit. “I don’t have all day, so tell me your story
quickly. Why did you ignore Aldreya’s command?”

“I
don’t know,” said Faindan. “For some reason I was compelled to come
here.” He shrugged. “I wish I knew why.”

Furlus
scowled. “That’s a sorry reason to disobey the Green Knight of Ollanhar.
Are you sure you weren’t struck in the head as well?”

“My
thoughts are clear,” said Faindan. “Somewhat.” He sighed.
“I cut off my own hand. It was infected with the Deep Shadow.”

“Poking
around in old ruins, were you?” asked Furlus.

“Exactly
that,” said Faindan.

Furlus
nodded. “That’s usually a terrible mistake, but not always. Sometimes
there is treasure to be found. So did the infection threaten your life? Was it
temporary, or permanent?”

“Dallsa
had it under control,” Faindan admitted. “I would have healed. I
severed it simply to be rid of my terrible pain.” His face burned hot with
shame as he spoke. He felt like a wretched excuse for a Knight.

“I
see,” said Furlus, frowning. “So you caved in like a weakling. I’ll
bet you made a fool of yourself as well. Did you cry like a baby?”

“All
of that and more,” said Faindan.

“So
you broke the Sacred Laws,” said Furlus, “and now you only have one
hand to show for it. And you’re hoping I will take pity on you—something the
rigid Taris Warhawk wouldn’t do. You want to keep your Knighthood and fight on
with one hand. Yet you seem to possess a weak will, so why should you retain
your Knighthood? You come in here intent upon saving it, but you show no
passion. Your voice is flat—as if you have given up hope or no longer care. If
you truly wanted to remain a Knight, I would expect a more desperate
plea—maybe even a tear or two shed. You make it very easy for me, lawbreaker,
to simply demote you to Orange and be done with it.”

Faindan
sighed. “I’m not very emotional. I find it hard to express my feelings.
But yes, I do care greatly about serving Dremlock.”

Furlus
yawned. “The Sacred Laws strictly forbid what you have done, and then you
disobeyed a direct order from your Green Knight. I truly hate to see a Knight
fail, and warriors in similar situations to yours have come before me and
retained their Knighthood. But they were convincing, and you are not. I don’t
care that you lost a hand. Many great Knights—Dwarves in particular—have had
missing arms and even missing legs! Have you ever heard of Hathod Ironfist? He
was a Grey Dwarf with a metal leg. He led Knights to victory in many battles.
But you are not him. You seem to lack heart, and that is intolerable. I’ll give
you one last chance to prove me wrong before I strip you of your rank. One last
chance.”

“I
have plenty of heart,” Faindan mumbled. But he felt weary to the core, and
his mind seemed to go blank. He questioned whether or not he truly did want to
remain a Knight. Furlus was right. Where was the passion? At last he said,
“I was chosen for the mission to obtain the Green Flamestone.”

Furlus
stroked his beard thoughtfully. “True. I’m sure you were respected and
talented, and I greatly appreciate all you’ve done for Dremlock. But the Sacred
Laws are never to be broken.” He waited.

Faindan
scratched his head. “I’m friends with Lannon Sunshield. I think he would
be disappointed if I was stripped of rank.” His words sounded desperate
and silly to his ears, and he regretted speaking them.

Furlus
didn’t respond to that. He continued to wait.

“I’m
good with the blade,” said Faindan. “
Very good
, actually. I
slew a Wolf. A really huge one. You wouldn’t believe how big it was.” He
held up the stump of his wrist. “Yet I killed it with one hand.”

“That’s
worth something,” said Furlus, nodding with approval. “That’s the
sort of thing I like to hear. What else?”

Faindan
struggled to think of something. “The Wolf was the biggest I’ve ever seen.
I still can’t believe I defeated it.”

Furlus
frowned.

“But
that’s not all,” Faindan said quickly. “I slew a Goblin with
tentacles that was terrorizing an artist. It was very powerful.”

Furlus
looked skeptical. “Tentacles, you say?”

“It
grabbed me and squeezed me,” said Faindan. “I nearly died.” He
instantly regretted admitting that last truth.

Furlus
sighed. “What else?”

“I
just…have a lot of heart,” Faindan said weakly. “I love being a
Knight. I absolutely
love
it. It’s all I think about.” He wiped a
dry eye in pretense that a tear had formed there. “See, I don’t even have
the words to say how much I truly love it. I want to serve our god and kingdom,
and I will never break the Sacred Laws again.” Faindan leaned back in his
chair, certain he had just failed miserably.

Furlus
bowed his head, looking almost embarrassed. “Well, I think you do have
some heart and talent, but I’m not feeling it. A Divine Knight needs to be
extremely dedicated and focused. I think you should be demoted to Orange for
now, but if you do your duties without complaining for six months, I will
permit you to go to Taris and plead your case.”

Faindan
groaned. “Then it’s truly over.” He rose from his chair, trembling.
“I’m finished as a Divine Knight. I guess I’ll just go…somewhere. Can I
keep my horse?”

Furlus
shook his head. “The Greywinds remain at Dremlock or Ollanhar. I’m sorry,
Faindan. I offered you a chance to speak to Taris, but if you must leave, then
I wish you well. It is always a sad day when we lose a Knight.”

“Six
months as an Orange Squire?” said Faindan. “That’s the chance you
offered me? That would be terribly humiliating.”

“It
would also be humbling,” said Furlus. “And I think you need that. If
you endured the shame and served us well, Taris would be more inclined to
listen. Taris is not as unreasonable as some tend to think.”

“Six
months,” said Faindan, “with no promise that my Knighthood would be
restored? Not even a
slight
promise?”

“No
promises,” said Furlus.

“I’m
going to pass on that,” said Faindan. “Goodbye.”

Furlus
shrugged. “Your choice. Obviously, you don’t care about Knighthood as much
as you claim. Good luck on your journeys. You should visit Dremlock for payment
and other instructions on how to properly retire. You can take your horse that
far, at least. You can purchase a lesser horse there.”

A
lesser horse
,
Faindan thought. He would have to part with his best friend, and the thought of
it filled his heart with pain.

“I
do care,” Faindan insisted. “But I’m certain Taris would refuse me,
and my humiliation would be for nothing.”

Furlus
focused on his map again, content to let the discussion end.

Faindan
searched his mind in a final attempt to think of anything that might sway the
Tower Master. “I saw Kuran Darkender,” he said, remembering the
vision. “Well, it wasn’t actually him, of course. It was like a waking
dream.”

Furlus
looked up, a sudden glint in his eyes. “Explain.”

“When
I was fighting that Goblin,” said Faindan. “The one with the
tentacles. I was being crushed to death, and suddenly Kuran Darkender was there
and I felt strong. That’s how I broke free and killed the beast.”

“Are
you being truthful?” asked Furlus, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.
“Look into my eyes and repeat what you said.”

Faindan
did so, wondering what this was all about. “I’m being completely truthful.
However, I don’t actually think Kuran Darkender’s spirit came to me. I think it
was all in my mind, but it did seem to lend me strength.”

“Describe
the incident in more detail,” said Furlus.

Faindan
did as commanded, telling all he could remember.

Furlus
sat in silence for a few moments, a somber expression on his grizzled face, and
Faindan thought he might have angered the Dwarf. Perhaps Furlus thought he was
lying or somehow insulting Kuran Darkender.

But
at last Furlus’ expression changed. He displayed a rare smile. “Well,
Faindan, it seems you did put forth a great effort against that Goblin, which
was probably quite a powerful foe. Perhaps I made my decision too quickly. On
second thought, I think you should remain a Divine Knight. Would you care for
some ale?”

Faindan
was completely baffled.

“Let’s
have some ale,” said Furlus, filling a couple mugs.

“What
about the Sacred Laws?” asked Faindan. “And the fact that I disobeyed
Aldreya? Am I to be punished?”

“No
need for that,” said Furlus, pushing a mug of ale toward him. “I am
overruling Aldreya’s decision, and as far as the Sacred Laws go…well, we all
make mistakes from time to time. Just don’t let it happen again.”

“I
won’t,” said Faindan, in amazement. He considered asking Furlus what had
brought on such a sudden change, but he decided he better not press the issue.
Instead, he simply enjoyed his ale, which was the best he had ever tasted.

***

After
their meeting, Faindan was sent to town by Furlus to speak to the leader of the
Nine Axes, Valedos Firehelm. Valedos was a legendary Dark Knight who wore an
extremely rare, full set of Glaetherin armor—including a horned helm—that he
had found in the maze of tunnels below Dremlock. The armor, which had belonged
to a Dwarven prince, had been a perfect fit, and the High Council had awarded
it to Valedos for his many heroic deeds.

Valedos
wasn’t wearing his armor on this day—though he did have his battle axe with
him, as always. He stood in the tavern at the bar, his shoulders as broad as
those of Furlus and his body laden with muscle beneath his black tunic. A forge
accident had left his face scarred and part of his beard unable to grow
back—with the latter being a mark of shame that added to his sullen demeanor.
He watched Faindan with suspicion as he approached. The tavern was filled with
Knights engaged in merrymaking in their free time, though the rest of the Nine
Axes were not present. Valedos stood alone, a big wooden mug in hand.