Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (16 page)

Lannon
sighed. "I'm finding out that I have a lot to learn."

"Yes,"
said Taris, "but I'm very impressed with the progress you've made so far,
especially considering your age and experience. I expected this door to overwhelm
you--perhaps drive you to your knees in despair. I knew there was even a slim
chance it might scar you for life or make you bitter. Yet you stand there
unwavering, holding the sorcery in check."

"Thank
you," said Lannon. He was growing weary from using the Eye, however, and
he felt the illusion might soon break through his defenses. "And I
appreciate you bringing me here and showing me these things."

"It
was inevitable," said Taris. "But now we must return to camp and
sleep. Tell no one of this excursion. In fact, take a vow of secrecy!"

"I
swear to keep it secret," said Lannon, "by the Divine Essence and the
Sacred Laws, until you release me from this vow."

"You
will long to return here," said Taris, "but you must resist. Do not
come back to this tower until you know you are ready. Next time, I won't be
with you. You will come alone, and if you're not prepared, you will die here
alone. This could either be a second home for you--or your tomb."

"When
I return," said Lannon, "I will be prepared."

Taris
gazed at him sternly, then nodded. "You are progressing well, Lannon
Sunshield. There may yet be hope for Dremlock Kingdom."

Chapter
8:
 
Trouble in Hethos

Taris
was right--Lannon did long to go back to the Watchmen's Keep. After he returned
to his tent, he lay awake wishing he were still in the tower and unlocking more
of its secrets. The items he'd gained were not greatly exciting--nothing
magical, though the Glaetherin throwing star was interesting--and he sensed
there were greater treasures concealed within the keep, protected by traps and
sorcery. But it wasn't the prospect of ancient treasures that filled Lannon's
heart with longing--it was the feeling that he'd left his home behind.

"Where
were you?" Lothrin asked. He was the only Squire still awake. He lay on
his side, his green eyes gleaming with a knowing look in the lantern light.
"That old tower?"

"I'm
forbidden to discuss it," Lannon replied.

Lothrin
smiled. "I guessed as much."

"Why
are you still awake?" asked Lannon, sensing Lothrin was distracted by
something. "We should both be sleeping."

"Too
much on my mind," said Lothrin, his voice a whisper. "It concerns the
White Flamestone." He shut his eyes and fell silent.

Lannon
waited patiently for Lothrin to explain.

Lothrin
opened his eyes again. "I can see it so vividly in my mind when I close my
eyes--as if it's actually right in front of me. Its pale glow seems to hold so
many secrets. When I picked up the Flamestone after Vannas had dropped it,
below the town of Elder Oak, it bonded to me. Its power filled me, inviting me
to wield it. Since then I haven't been able to forget about it."

"But
you
must
find a way to forget it," said Lannon, alarmed.
"Dwelling on it won't do any good. It belongs to Prince Vannas."

"No,"
said Lothrin. "Vannas merely borrowed it. It belongs to the Divine
Essence. Regardless, it became attached to me in that moment when it lay in my
hands--almost as if it wanted to escape Vannas' clutches. It pained me greatly
to return it to him."

"What
will you do?" Lannon asked, fearing a conflict was brewing.

"Nothing,"
said Lothrin. "The prince has been charged with the task of wielding it,
and it's not my place to interfere." Lothrin glanced at Vannas, who
mumbled something in his sleep, as if he were dreaming. "But I believe the
White Flamestone dreads my cousin's touch and the arrogant path he is on. I
believe the Divine Essence might have made a grave error in choosing the
prince."

"I
hope you're wrong," said Lannon, but his instincts told him Lothrin spoke
true. "Either way, you can't unlock its power as Vannas does. Otherwise,
the Divine Essence would have chosen you instead of him."

"That's
true," said Lothrin, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "The White
Flamestone is much weaker in my hands. Vannas has extraordinary talent--but
talent isn't everything. Though it hurts me to say it, the prince lacks the
moral character to properly bear such a burden. I'm certain it will destroy
him."

"So
you believe the Flamestone should pass to you?" said Lannon.

"I
don't know," said Lothrin. "Vannas' command of it is so far beyond
mine, it would seem foolish for him to surrender it. Yet I fear greatly for his
life and for the future of Dremlock. I will reveal my concerns to Taris."

"Good
idea," said Lannon. "Taris will know what to do."

"I
find this deeply unsettling," said Lothrin. "I didn't believe I could
become obsessed with an object of power--even one as great as this Flamestone.
Now I've had a taste of the terrible burden that Vannas bears. All I ever cared
about growing up was wandering the forest, hunting and fishing, listening to
the trees and observing the ways of animals. I thought my soul was pure and
free--beyond the petty traps that snare other mortals. Yet now, after a single
touch of the White Flamestone, I find myself tormented with longing."

"Perhaps
you just need time to get over it," said Lannon. He tried to imagine what
Lothrin was feeling, but found he could not.

"That's
what I'm hoping," said Lothrin. "Otherwise, I will have to simply
endure it and move on. A Squire of Dremlock has no time for longing or regrets.
I don't know why the White Flamestone bonded to me like that, but I doubt it
was simply to torture me. The reason will eventually be revealed."

Prince
Vannas suddenly opened his eyes and sat up, his hand latching onto his cloak
where the Flamestone was concealed in its pouch. He started to cry out but
stopped himself, his breath rushing out in relief. "Ah, I was only
dreaming! It was a true nightmare. I dreamt that I had lost the White
Flamestone and everyone closest to me had turned against me."

Lothrin
smiled at the prince. "No one has turned against you, my cousin. You know
I will always guard your back."

Vannas
nodded. "And I know Lannon will too. I will return to sleep, knowing I'm
safe in the company of such good friends."

As
the prince lay back down and drifted off again, his hand still clutching the
bulge in his cloak where the White Flamestone was held, his face was peaceful
in the soft lantern glow.

But
Lothrin's face was troubled.

***

The
next day, the Squires asked about Lannon's new items. They were especially
impressed by the jeweled dagger. Prince Vannas recognized it as a Birlote
weapon of royalty and seemed to hold it in high regard. He demanded to know how
Lannon had acquired it. Lannon replied that he'd taken an oath of secrecy, and
his friends respected that and didn't ask again. They didn't know about the
Glaetherin throwing star, however, for Lannon kept it concealed in his cloak.

The
journey around the western end of the Firepit Mountains was uneventful. The
weather in Silverland was often unpredictable, and the spring rains and melting
snows had given way to ice and frost. Winter refused to surrender its grip on
the land, making the journey more miserable than anticipated.

At
last they found themselves in the forestlands of Hethos, where trees often
reached heights of more than two-hundred feet with trunks as wide as cabins.
These ancient trees had never faced saw or axe because they were considered
sacred to the people of Silverland and were believed to help hold back the
Bloodlands. Some of them had lived for thousands of years--oaks, maples, and
sprawling beeches with twisted trunks and silver leaves. This land was also
known as the Kingsforest and in some places, the Northern Hills. Stone ruins of
ancient keeps stood amongst the trees or protruded from snowy hillsides. Large
snowflakes were falling, covering the massive limbs of the trees and settling
over the hills. Farms stood here and there in valleys, smoke rising from
chimneys. The beauty of Hethos was captivating, especially with the silver
snowflakes swirling through the air.

At
one point, Hethos had been swarming with Goblins, led by the Goblin Lords that
seemed invincible at the time. But After Lannon had supplied Dremlock with the knowledge
of how to defeat the Lords, the tables had quickly turned and many of the
Goblins had been killed or driven back into the Bloodlands. Since then, Hethos
had become a far more peaceful land.

But
there was trouble to be found in Hethos still. A farmer and his teenage
daughter made a desperate appeal to the Knights. The farmer approached them on
foot, a bent-backed old man in a fur hat. He wore a thick, dirty
cloak--displaying several colorful patches--to protect against the cold, along
with a fur scarf that hung almost to his feet. He had a scruffy grey beard and
an ugly scar where one eye used to be. His daughter was pretty, with curly
blond hair and a ragged, dirty dress over which was thrown a fur cloak.

"Knights
of Dremlock, help me!" the farmer pleaded, bowing to Taris. "A
monstrous serpent has crawled into my barn and killed some of my cows. I fear
that it will kill and eat all of them before it is done. My cows are all I
have!"

"Describe
this serpent," said Taris.

"It
has the stink of evil," said the farmer, "of the Bloodlands." He
shuddered. "It has a head like that of a woman. Made me sick just to look
upon it. It started toward me, and I was forced to lock it in the barn."

"A
Pit Crawler," said Trenton, disgust in his voice.

"Please
help my father!" the daughter pleaded. "This winter has been terribly
hard. If we lose our cattle, I don't know how we'll make due."

Taris
sighed. "How far away is the farm?"

The
man pointed to a small, nearby valley. "Just over there."

"We
will help you," said Taris.

The
farmer bowed, and then his daughter did the same. "We are grateful, oh
Divine Knights," the old man said.

The
company rode to the farm and gathered before the barn. An evil stench hung in
the air. The sounds of distressed cattle came from within.

"Be
careful!" the farmer cried. "If you startle the serpent, it might
strike out at my cows."

"Let
me handle it, Master Taris!" Jerret begged, drawing his broadsword.

Taris
shook his head. "I think Lannon is best suited for this task."

"Why
put Lannon in danger?" asked Trenton. "We have many Knights to choose
from, and a Pit Crawler is nothing to fool with."

"This
farmer can't afford to lose his cows," said Taris, with a shrug.
"Lannon has the ability to contain the beast. And he needs the
experience."

"I
agree," said Shennen. "Let Lannon get some practice."

"Foolish,"
Trenton muttered. "You send a prized Squire when we have an army of fully
trained Knights? I don't understand you, Taris."

Taris
smiled. "You're not required to understand me." He gazed sternly at
Lannon. "Go and kill the Pit Crawler."

Lannon
bowed, then swung down from his horse. He approached the barn, where the farmer
and his daughter stood, and drew his sword. The two gazed at Lannon with wide
eyes, perplexed over why a mere teenage boy was being sent alone to deal with
the monster in the barn.

"What
are you going to do?" the farmer asked.

"I'll
try to draw it out," said Lannon. He was nervous, for a Pit Crawler's bite
was instant death. But he focused on his training, calming himself. This was
what Divine Knights did--kill Goblins. It was something he was going to have to
get used to. If he couldn't handle this task, he had no business remaining with
Dremlock.

"I
suggest standing back a bit," he said, "in case anything goes
wrong."

The
daughter smiled and blew Lannon a kiss. "You're truly a brave Knight, to
do this task alone when you have an army looking on."

Lannon
blushed, but stood a bit taller. "Thank you." He didn't care to
explain that he was only a Squire. His gaze lingered on her pretty face for a
moment, but then he forced himself to focus on his duties.

The
farmer led his daughter some distance away, to where the Knights sat on
horseback. Lannon walked to the barn door, which was sealed with a plank. He
put his back to the wall beside the door. Then he slid the plank over with the
Eye. He pushed the double-door open and waited, his sword raised and his heart
pounding. One bite and he was dead, Eye of Divinity or not. Nothing could stop
the venom of a Pit Crawler. In spite of his efforts to calm himself, he
realized he was trembling slightly (fortunately not enough for anyone to
notice).

 
When nothing happened, Lannon sent his gaze
into the barn and examined the scene. Six cows were dead and partially eaten.
The Pit Crawler was indeed huge, its body stretching nearly the full length of
the barn. Its humanoid head was raised, its fangs dripping blood. It was
staring at the open door. Meanwhile, the surviving cattle shuffled about in
agitation in their stalls.

Gently,
Lannon tugged on the Pit Crawler with the Eye--pulling it toward the door. The
serpent-like body reared up higher and then began moving in Lannon's direction.
The others watched in tense silence. Some of the archers--including
Lothrin--had arrows trained on the door.

Slowly,
cautiously, the humanoid head poked out of the barn, the jaws open wide and a
forked tongue protruding from between the bloody fangs. Lannon considered
whether or not to try to freeze the huge beast, but he realized if he failed,
it might drive the Pit Crawler into a fury.

Instead,
Lannon slashed at the thick neck with his sword, using the Eye to guide the
blade and enhance the stroke. It was also a risky move, but it worked to
perfection. The Dragon sword sliced through the beast's flesh and lopped off
the head. As the head fell to the snow, the huge body went into a frenzy,
coiling and twisting around horrifically. Lannon was forced to duck as the
dying beast smashed itself against the barn, and then he dashed away from it.

He'd
thought the stroke would kill the monster instantly, and it was unsettling to
watch it continue to writhe around, its evil sorcery still active. Finally, the
beast went still and Lannon breathed a sigh of relief.

The
Knights applauded and cheered for Lannon. Then they dragged the Pit Crawler's
body from the barn. The farmer came up and shook Lannon's hand, while the
Knights burned the foul creature's corpse. The Pit Crawler's head was still
alive, fangs ready to inject venom, and so Taris burned it to ash where it lay.