Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (20 page)

Lannon
wondered why the Eye of Dreams was showing him this meeting. He'd already known
that Bellis was a concern. But the mood in the hall was dark, and Lannon
suspected the situation had become dire. But what could he do about it? He was
far away from Dremlock, caught up in his own grim situation. It seemed the Eye
had dragged him here just to torment his mind all the more.

"We
must call back our forces from Dorok's Hand," said Barlow. "We have
too many valuable Knights there that could help defend Dremlock."

"Abandon
Dorok's Hand?" said Cordus, scowling. "It took considerable effort to
secure that fortress--the death of many Knights. Now we just retreat and leave
it for the Blood Legion?"

"We
struck a deep blow to the Legion," said Barlow, with a shrug. "And
they lost many warriors at Blombalk Fortress. They are weak."

"True,"
said Cordus, "but instead of finishing them off, it would seem we're now
forced to abandon our war against them when we are so close to victory."
He sighed in frustration. "The timing of this issue with Bellis is
terrible."

"The
attack on Dorok's Hand was a noble effort," said Vesselin, "but the
situation has changed. The threat of Bellis is too great for us to focus on
anything else. Tenneth Bard is dead and the Blood Legion is weak. The Hand of
Tharnin is no longer a threat. King Verlamer is now our greatest enemy and
surely is a servant of the Deep Shadow."

"I
still don't understand," said Krissana, "how the King of Bellis could
have fallen under the influence of the Deep Shadow. Bellis is far away from the
troubles of Silverland. Is there any news on how this could have
happened?"

"No,
it remains a great mystery," said Cordus, gazing at the map.
"Somehow, a powerful servant of Tharnin was able to breach that mighty
kingdom and get close to King Verlamer--close enough to whisper in his ear and
change his destiny. Bellis is so strongly defended against the Deep Shadow that
it seems impossible, yet clearly it has happened. Unless...he is simply insane.
In either case, he clearly isn't going to stop the expansion until all of
Gallamerth is under his control."

"Brothlor
Kingdom lies just beyond Silverland," said Barlow. "That means Bellis
already has a large army right on our doorstep. Rather than assemble one
massive force against us, they may opt to send smaller armies to weaken us.
They may attack Dorok's Hand and try to lay claim to the White Flamestone.
Regardless, we could be attacked very soon. Clearly, the time has come for us
to take action."

"I
agree," said Krissana. "Perhaps we should call back all of our forces
and fortify the kingdom, then wait for Bellis to come to us."

"Yet
that would be devastating to Silverland," said Cordus. "Especially
with these new Goblins attacking towns. Still, I believe we must withdraw at
least eighty percent of our Knights and bring them here. We will need the Eye
of Divinity and, most importantly, the White Flamestone."

"And
then we sit and wait," said Barlow, with a wry smile, "as the massive
armies of Bellis close in on us." He shook his head slowly, his eyes
looking haunted. "How can Dremlock withstand such forces?"

"We
have withstood Bellis before," said Cordus. "When King Ordamer sent
his Knights against us, we endured. However, Bellis was smaller in those days
and it was also fighting a war with the Grey Dwarves. Dremlock has never faced
anything like the power that Bellis commands these days."

"Then
I doubt we'll survive," said Barlow. "The Birlotes and Olrogs have
rejected our pleas for an alliance, and Borenthia has yet to send the
two-hundred archers we were promised. The Dwarves offer no help at all. Even
with the White Flamestone, it seems we will be crushed. Bellis will bring
thousands of Knights and massive siege engines against us. Dremlock will be
reduced to rubble."

"The
archers will come," said Cordus. "The Birlotes have always honored
their promises."

"But
can two-hundred archers make much difference?" said Barlow.

Cordus
didn't answer.

"When
is that Knight of Bellis due to arrive?" asked Krissana. "I sense his
arrogance in not showing up for the meeting on time."

"I
was informed of his delay," said Cordus. "He should be arriving any
moment. Then we will know for certain where we stand."

"Unless
he lies to us," said Barlow.

Cordus
frowned and sipped some ale.

The
moments drifted past, while Lannon grew impatient. The Eye of Dreams had
dragged him to Dremlock Hall against his will, and he wondered how long it was
going to keep him there. He'd seen enough to know the events were probably real
and not just an exceptionally vivid dream, and he needed to report what he'd
witnessed to Taris. He wanted to do so immediately, but the Eye kept him bound
to the room. He found himself forced to float there and watch.

At
last an Orange Squire entered the hall and announced that the Knight of Bellis,
Folam Elsonandale, had arrived. Moments later, a muscular man wearing
extravagant silver and gold armor strode into the hall. He had long blond hair
and a clean-shaven, handsome face. A sheathed broadsword hung from his belt,
and a round shield was strapped to his arm that was painted with the Crest of
Bellis in white and green (a dome with towers protruding from it like spikes on
a morning star). He also had a steel crossbow strapped to his back. Standing
beside him was a smaller man, in a black and purple robe, with a bald head and
a neatly trimmed red beard. The bald man was holding a book with a silver
cover.

Folam
Elsonandale bowed to the Lord Knight. "Greetings! As you already know, I
have come from Bellis with my scribe, whose name is Fenchas. If I may, I would
like to sit down so we can talk."

Cordus
nodded. "You may sit."

The
muscular Knight and his scribe seated themselves at the table. The scribe
produced a feather pen and ink and wrote something in the book. An Orange
Squire brought the two some ale, bread, and cheese. Folam took a hearty swig of
ale, then smiled. "Dremlock is truly a wonderful kingdom. I've always
longed to see it, and at last I'm getting my chance. I only wish it was during
summer's warmth, when I'm sure the kingdom is quite beautiful."

"Undoubtedly,"
said Cordus, "there are many things we could discuss in the interests of
friendly conversation, such as this foul spring weather, but I'm not in a
friendly mood and I prefer we get right to the point."

Folam
bit into the crusty bread and then washed it down with some ale. He grunted
with approval. "Excellent bread, but I prefer mine buttered. Orange
Squire--fetch me some butter! Anyway, I've come only to ask for Dremlock's
cooperation. We would like you to sign a treaty with Bellis--a treaty of
lasting peace that will ensure Dremlock stays out of the affairs of my kingdom.
So there you have it."

"The
affairs of your kingdom," mused Cordus. "Affairs that no doubt
involve conquering all of Gallamerth. Bellis has come dangerously close to
Silverland in claiming the last of the Guardian Kingdoms. Isn't that enough for
your king, or must he try to lay claim to this battered region as well?"

"I
think we already know the answer," said Barlow. "Bellis will not stop
until it rules Gallamerth from sea to sea."

Folam
smiled broadly. "Yes, our blessed King Verlamer Kessing is seeking to
bring unity to our land and end all wars. This bold and unprecedented move has
already brought peace to most of the Southern Reaches."

"Peace
by enslavement," said Cordus.

"No,"
said Folam, "by
cooperation
. All but one of the Guardian Kingdoms
willingly signed the treaty with Bellis. The coastal barbarian kingdoms refuse
to for now, but what can be expected of those savages?"

"The
Birlotes will never sign the treaty," said Krissana Windsword. "Your
king must already know that. Nor will the Olrogs."

Folam
shrugged. "We shall see. But right now the concern is Dremlock, and that's
why I'm here. I will require the signatures of all the High Council members,
along with the swearing of an oath to Bellis."

"Even
if we were to agree to this," said Cordus, "three of our High Council
members are far away from here, including both of our Tower Masters. It would
require many days of travel for them to return. Are you willing to wait?"

Lannon
could barely believe what he was hearing. Was the Lord Knight actually
considering signing the treaty? Surely it would mean Dremlock would lose its
independence and its ability to effectively battle the forces of Tharnin.
Lannon suspected it was nothing more than an agreement of surrender.

"In
light of that," said Folam, "I would ask that the four of you sign
and take the oath for now, and the remaining three can do so later--or not.
Four out of seven is the majority I need anyway. What say you?"

Cordus
sneered. "You want us to surrender without a fight."

"Not
surrender," said Folam, "just to cooperate. This can be done
peacefully and without bloodshed." His facial expression turned sullen.
"But either way, it will be done. Choose wisely, Knights of
Dremlock."

"Call
it what you will," said Cordus. "Your king should have known we would
never sign. So why did you bother coming here at all?"

"You
wasted your time, young Knight," said Vesselin Hopebringer. "Dremlock
does not submit to tyranny."

Folam
rose from his chair. "Perhaps this will convince you." He unslung his
steel crossbow. "This is a fine bow. Most of our Knights have one. It is
quite powerful and very easy to load and fire."

"You
came all this way," said Cordus, "to show me a crossbow?"

 
Folam withdrew an arrow from his quiver and
held it up. The arrow had a cone-shaped, metal tip that didn't look like it was
very sharp. "The arrow head explodes on contact with armor--with enough
force that it can tear a man to pieces or blast apart stone. It is more than
enough to counter any of Dremlock's sorcery and tricks. I can arrange a
demonstration if you would like, Lord Knight. Just give the word." He
sighed. "Why don't you at least read the treaty before you decide?"

"It
doesn't matter," said Cordus. "We will not sign!"

"Never!"
said Barlow, pounding the table with his fist.

"Dremlock
does not yield," said Krissana.

"I
would rather die than sign your treaty," said Vesselin.

Folam's
face darkened. "As you wish." He motioned to his scribe. "Let it
be known that the High Council refused to even read the treaty." He
glowered at Cordus. "You will go down in history as the Lord Knight who
held power when Dremlock fell to Bellis--the Lord Knight whose stubbornness
destroyed his kingdom."

Cordus guzzled some ale, then slammed the mug down so hard
it split in two. "No--Dremlock will prevail, as it always has!"

The others spoke in agreement.

Cordus rose, his bloodshot eyes full of rage. "You can
never defeat us, because we have honor on our side--and the power of a god!
Tell that to your puppet king who bows before Tharnin!"

Folam's eyes widened. "Puppet king? You will come to
regret those words." He waved to them. "Goodbye then, misguided fools
of Dremlock. I pity you, for you have no idea the wrath you have
unleashed."

Cordus pointed towards the door. "Be gone with you,
Knight of Bellis, or you will feel
my
wrath!"

Suddenly, Lannon was yanked away from the scene--back
through time and space to some unknown destination. He found himself in a
throne room, in some huge hall with marble pillars and a dome-shaped ceiling. He
knew it was the Kingdom of Bellis. Seated on a throne before Lannon was a huge,
bearded king dressed in a white and crimson robe. His face was pale--almost
inhumanly so, with dark and sunken eyes. Perched on an arm of the throne was a
small, golden dragon with large claws and fangs and malicious eyes--a Goblin
like the one whose bones had formed Lannon's sword. Next to the king was a
silver chalice that had tipped over and spilled out some dark fluid that looked
like blood. For some reason, Lannon was filled with dread as he looked upon
this scene, for he knew this was symbolic of the ruin of Dremlock Kingdom.

And then Lannon was pulled away again, and this time he
seemed to be falling into some deep void. He cried out in despair, just before
he awoke in his tent covered in sweat. Lannon sat up, his chest heaving. The
spell of the Eye of Dreams was broken, and Lannon wondered if it would ever
return again. After what he'd witnessed, he almost hoped it never did.

Chapter
11:
 
The Hunte
d

Before
returning to sleep, Lannon paid a visit to Taris' tent and told him what the
Eye of Dreams had revealed. Lannon told the story in great detail, while Taris
listened without interruption and with a somber expression.

When
Lannon was finished, Taris said, "I think this calls for some tea."
He heated some water in his teakettle with a brief touch of his hand and then
poured a cup for each of them. He didn't speak for several moments as he sipped
the tea, but seemed to be in deep contemplation. Once again he was seated cross-legged
in the dead of night, as if he never laid down to sleep.

At
last Taris said, "You knew instinctively it was the Eye of Dreams that was
showing you those things. The Eye of Dreams knows no distance or barrier.
However, as you discovered, it is usually unpredictable and something you will
never learn to control. It springs from the deepest reaches of your
soul--sometimes from your deepest fears--where your conscious mind holds no
sway."

"So
the meeting at Dremlock was real and not just a dream?" said Lannon.
"I was actually seeing it while it took place, this very night?"

"You
were in a dream state," said Taris, "but what you witnessed was
probably real. The lines between the dream world and what we consider to be the
real world can sometimes blur. Regardless, it means our time grows short. We
must settle this issue with the Black Flamestone as quickly as possible and
then either return to Dorok's Hand--or go straight to Dremlock. I'm sure the
Elder Hawks will bear instructions to us from the Lord Knight."

"In
my dream," said Lannon, "the High Council talked of abandoning
Dorok's Hand.
 
Do you really think that
will happen?"

"It
may be inevitable," said Taris. "We'll need all of our Knights to
defend Dremlock if Bellis attacks."

"But
what about that portal to the Deep Shadow?" said Lannon. "If the
Blood Legion regains control of Dorok's Hand, they could open it again,
allowing Vorden and his Hand of Tharnin back into our world." At one
point, Lannon would have welcomed Vorden's return in hope of freeing him from
the grasp of evil. But after what the Eye had recently shown him about Timlin,
Lannon had lost confidence in the notion that Vorden could be saved. It seemed
Vorden was better off trapped in the realm of Tharnin forever.

"Yes,"
said Taris, "that could happen, unfortunately. Simply burying the portal
with earth and stone was not an effective way to close it, and it could easily
be dug open again. But we will do what we must. The Hand of Tharnin is a dire
threat, but the Blood Legion is weak right now. Our greatest concern is the
sprawling empire of Bellis and their insane king."

Lannon
sighed. "How can Dremlock survive all these threats? It seems like too
many evil forces are working against us."

"We
can endure," said Taris, "because we have the Eye of Divinity and the
White Flamestone. However, if our enemies get their hands on the Black
Flamestone and learn to unlock its full power, then I fear we will be doomed.
So we must gain possession of it and take it to Dremlock. It must be returned
to the Divine Essence. The Black Flamestone is chaotic and evil but it belongs
to our god, safely beyond the destructive reach of mortals."

"I
understand the importance of the White Flamestone," said Lannon, "but
the Eye of Divinity doesn't seem like much of a threat to Bellis. If Dremlock
is attacked, what can I actually do to defend the kingdom?"

"The
Eye of Divinity," said Taris, "can make you far more powerful than
any ordinary Knight, if you learn how to master its full potential. And while
you are a long way from achieving that skill level, you are making progress
every day. Don't question your value to Dremlock, Lannon. You discovered how to
kill the Goblin Lords we feared were invincible, and you slew Tenneth Bard with
a single attack. Now the Eye of Dreams has grown strong within you and is
revealing important events. Tomorrow, you will use your power to help us track
down that Specter. Rest assured, you are vital to this kingdom."

"Yet
I fear for Dremlock's future," said Lannon. "That Knight of Bellis
seemed so sure of himself, so arrogant. He seemed far more confident than our
Lord Knight. I could sense that he was certain Dremlock would fall."

"I
fear for our future as well," said Taris. "But all we can do is
concentrate on whatever task is at hand. Now you must get some sleep, for
tomorrow at dawn we search for the Black Flamestone."

Lannon
returned to his tent and lay down beneath his quilt. Jerret was still awake and
sitting up, though he kept yawning. At first Lannon thought his mind was too
burdened to allow for sleep, but then he remembered his training and began
meditating--with his focus on getting some refreshing slumber. Moments later,
he started to drift off, and he welcomed the comforting embrace of deep sleep.
He hoped he wouldn't have any dreams.

***

Later,
Lannon was awakened in his tent by Jerret, who was shaking him furiously.
Jerret's eyes were wild in the lantern light and his broadsword was in hand.
Lannon could hear shouts coming from outside the tent, and he sat up, reaching
for his blade. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We're
being attacked!" Jerret yelled. "Everyone, wake up!"

The
other Squires awoke and rose--with the exception of Galvia, who remained lying
down due to her wounds. Vannas drew the White Flamestone from its pouch, and
Aldreya drew her dagger.

"The
Blood Legion has broken the agreement!" Jerret growled, rage in his voice.
"They're going to pay dearly for this!"

Galvia
tried to get up, but Jerret motioned her to remain where she was. "Just
stay in here, okay? You can't fight in that condition."

Reluctantly,
Galvia slumped back down, groaning in pain.

The
Squires stepped from the tent to find a fortress in chaos and confusion.
Knights and Legion soldiers were scurrying about with flaming weapons, but they
didn't seem to be engaging any foes. They seemed to be frantically searching
for something. The rest of the Divine Shield was gathered just outside the
tent, and Taris was calling for his Knights to get into formation.

"What's
going on?" Lannon asked, as he struggled to make sense of what he was
seeing. Clearly the Blood Legion wasn't the problem, as their fighters seemed
just as confused as Dremlock's Knights.

"Something
is attacking us," said Taris, his voice calm in spite of the
circumstances. "
All
of us. Possibly the Specter, though we don't
know for sure yet since we can't see it."

Screams
came from the Soldier Barracks, but Taris raised his hand to indicate everyone
should hold formation. "No matter what happens, stay in position. We'll
let our foe come to us."

Suddenly,
a nearby Knight cried out a warning. Something was hovering beside him in the
torchlight--a shimmering mass that looked like a pillar of dark, transparent
smoke. The Knight struck at the smoke but it somehow eluded his sword. He swung
his weapon again, and this time the sword was batted aside by what looked like
a metallic, clawed hand lashing out from the smoke. Another clawed hand ripped
through the Knight's armor, and the Knight was suddenly engulfed in crimson
fire that blazed so hot it burned him to ash, armor and all. The other Knights
tried to attack the shadow, but suddenly it was gone.

"It
has to be the Specter!" Trenton said. "It will seek to kill us one by
one, right down to the last warrior--just as it did the members of the Blood
Legion who once occupied this fortress!"

Taris
didn't answer. His eyes burned with focus.

"We
have to find a way to corner it," said Jace, "and subject it to
multiple attacks. Otherwise we don't stand a chance."

"We
will hold formation," Taris insisted. The cloaked, hooded sorcerer held
his burning stone dagger in front of him, but otherwise he didn't seem to be
preparing any significant attack.

"Lannon,
help me find this enemy!" said Vannas. The Birlote prince held the White
Flamestone in a trembling hand, his confidence shattered by his inability to
locate any sort of target. His fur cloak hung open to the waist, leaving only
his thin tunic to protect him from the freezing air, but he made no effort to
button it. His eyes were wide as he scanned the grounds.

Lannon
searched the fortress (the parts of it that were in range of the Eye) yet saw
nothing but anxious and confused warriors. It was another snowy night, with
glittering flakes swirling through the air and helping to hide whatever was
attacking them. Lannon's gaze pierced the snowflakes but couldn't lock onto
whatever foe was moving around the fortress. Lannon knew their enemy had to be
incredibly fast to escape the sweeping gaze of the Eye.

More
cries arose from around Blombalk. Some of the Legion Soldiers had gathered
close to the Divine Knights, their focus only on survival. Timlin had exited
the Council Barracks and stood flanked by his Goblin Lords and surrounded by
Soldiers. Due to their training, everyone was attempting to get into, and hold,
defensive formations. Yet some of the Soldiers were still running around the
grounds and looking confused.

One
of the tents suddenly burst into flames, and then a huge Greywind horse was
lifted by an invisible force and flung through the air to its death. With a
battle cry, a Red Knight hurled a flaming lance at something--but the lance
missed and lodged in the fortress wall. Archers fired arrows but never seemed
to hit anything.

"Keep
searching, Lannon!" Taris commanded.

Lannon
did as ordered, but he didn't catch so much as a glimpse of their foe.
Meanwhile, a Knight was seized by a shadow and dragged away from the group,
howling and hacking at the shadow with his blade. More lances and arrows were
launched at the shadow but never made contact. Moments later, the Knight had been
burned to ash by crimson fire.

Trenton
Shadowbane groaned in frustration. "Jace is right--we need to corner it
somehow or we're all going to die!"

Shennen
whirled about, blade in hand, his keen Birlote eyes scanning the fortress.
"How can we kill a creature that swift?"

Jerret
stood with a helpless look on his face, his anger having turned to shock and
the battle lust drained from him.

Suddenly,
Lannon caught a glimpse of a blob of immensely powerful sorcery. He pointed
toward it. Vannas launched a ray of fire at it from the White Flamestone that
blew apart a section of the fortress wall but didn't seem to hit anything else.
The prince shook his head in disgust.

Lannon
lost sight of their foe again.

"What
kind of enemy is this?" Daledus said, his eyes wide. He turned this way
and that, gripping his huge axe. "It's merely toying with us!"

Chaos
erupted amongst the Legion Soldiers guarding Timlin, as two of them fell to the
unseen assassin. Lannon's gaze faltered. He couldn't believe what was
happening. The Specter--if indeed that's what was attacking--was far more
powerful that he'd ever imagined. Only Jace had seemed to understand just how
devastating this foe was. Lannon wondered if any of them would survive. He
could imagine the sorrow at Dremlock once the kingdom learned of their fate.

"How
long must we hold formation?" Trenton said. "Clearly, this isn't
working. I suggest we go on the attack!"

"Holding
formation is all we have," said Taris. "Otherwise there will be mass
confusion, and that will work to our foe's advantage."

Lannon
caught another glimpse of the blob of dark sorcery, and this time he tried to
freeze it with the Eye. But the creature was so strong it broke his hold
instantly and with such force that Lannon was shaken. More arrows and flaming
lances were launched toward it, but as before, they didn't connect. The shadow
darted away from the weapons in a flicker of motion.

But
Lannon sensed that something had changed. The creature had become aware of him
when he'd tried to freeze it with the Eye. Lannon could almost feel it watching
him, planning his demise. He shielded himself with the Eye, though he doubted
it would be enough to save him. He cringed, certain he was about to be burned
to ash by crimson fire and that no one could save him.

An
explosion of blinding crimson light flashed through the camp, and everything
seemed to slow to a crawl. It was as if time itself had been slowed, as the
shadow advanced toward Lannon. Everyone seemed half frozen around him, barely
moving. Either his companions had been slowed by some form of sorcery, or
Lannon was seeing everything at an incredibly fast speed. The Eye told him it
was the latter. He watched in dread as the darkness took form--becoming a
cloaked, hooded figure floating above the snow. Two clawed hands, bound in what
looked like silver gauntlets, protruded from its cloak sleeves. A pair of
crimson eyes glowered at Lannon from beneath the Specter's hood. Hanging from
the Specter's neck by a silver chain was a dark blue gem webbed with reddish veins--the
Black Flamestone.

In
that flicker of an instant, Lannon saw that the Specter was a greedy creature
that killed to possess any treasures others might be carrying. It was as
ancient as a Great Dragon of Tharnin, a fiend that had existed for thousands of
years in bleak, treasure-filled caverns. The Blood Legion had tried to control
it, but they had underestimated its greed and had paid a grim price.