Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (25 page)

Taris
looked displeased, but he nodded. "If you believe it is more dangerous to
destroy it than lock it in a vault, I will take your word for it. You're the
expert on magical relics and that's why we hired you."

Jace
bowed. "I'm just giving my opinion based on my research. The choice is
yours, Tower Master."

"We
will eventually sink it into the ocean," said Taris, "where it can
rest at the cold, dark bottom forever, where humans cannot go."

"
Where
humans cannot go
," mused Jace. "Well, at least not
yet
."

Chapter
15:
 
The Apprentice

A
day had passed since the duel.

Lannon,
the other Squires, and Shennen gathered by Vorden's bedside. Shennen stood
apart from the others with his head bowed, content to let the Squires do the
talking, and was simply there as a guard. Vorden was chained to a bed in the
Chamber of Healing, and he was awake and alert. His arm had been successfully
reattached and he looked healthy enough, though his eyes maintained a yellow
tint that indicated he was still infested with the Deep Shadow. He wore a white
robe--typical of patients in a healing area--that contrasted his dark hair and
evil expression.

Lannon
gazed down at his former friend, looking for some hint of change now that the
Hand of Tharnin no longer controlled Vorden's destiny--but if any change had
occurred it wasn't apparent. Jerret, who'd only come because the other Squires
had insisted, bore an expression of disgust.

"So
you fools have come to bother me," Vorden said, with a grimace. "Are
you here to gloat over your victory in the duel, Lannon?"

"No,"
said Lannon. "We just came to see how you are doing. I'm glad your sword
arm is restored. You'll need it when you get back to living as a Squire."
Lannon was merely trying to project a positive attitude and was not convinced
Vorden would ever serve Dremlock again.

"Living
as a Squire?" Vorden laughed. "Don't be silly, Lannon. Aside from the
fact that I despise Dremlock to the core of my soul, your kingdom's days are
numbered. All along you thought Tenneth Bard was such a grave threat, but he
was just a distraction. The real threat was Bellis."

Shennen
raised his head. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"I
don't talk to Birlotes," said Vorden.

"Then
tell
me
," said Lannon. "What was Tenneth Bard planning?"

 
Vorden sneered. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe
to a slave like you," said Jerret. "I'm sure Tenneth Bard whispered
his plans into your ear many times over. You were his most prized servant,
after all--forced to obey his every command."

Vorden
grinned. "Like I once whispered in
your
ear, Jerret? When I
enslaved your mind and forced you to come to me?"

Jerret's
face darkened and his hand settled on the hilt of his broadsword. "You
might have lost the Hand of Tharnin, but you're still just a mindless puppet. I
have nothing to say to you!" With that, Jerret strode from the room.

"Good
riddance!" said Vorden. "What a pathetic excuse for a Squire. It
annoys me to no end that he is still alive."

"We're
waiting for your answer, Vorden," said Aldreya

Vorden
yawned. "Did I just hear another Birlote speak? I'm not saying anything
with you foul Tree Dwellers at my beside. I'll tell Lannon--provided the rest
of you leave. And take that ugly Dwarf with you, too. The wretched thing about
female Grey Dwarves is that they don't have beards to hide their
ugliness."

Galvia's
lips tightened, and her meaty hand knotted into a fist as her Dwarven temper
surged. But she didn't respond to the insult.

"The
only ugliness I see," said Lothrin, "comes from your spirit,
Vorden."

"Silence,
Birlote scum!" Vorden shouted.

Lannon
turned to Shennen. "If you don't mind, I would like to speak to Vorden
alone. I don't sense any danger." The Eye revealed that Vorden was still
formidable in spite of losing his demonic gauntlet--charged with dark sorcery.
But Vorden's chains were stout and he was no match for Lannon's power.

Shennen
nodded, and motioned the others to follow him from the chamber, leaving Lannon
alone with Vorden's hatred.

"Well?"
said Lannon.

"Are
you really that stupid?" Vorden shook his head in disbelief. "Tenneth
Bard was creating a huge distraction, so Dremlock would not be focused on the
growing threat of Bellis. And it worked to perfection. Even as Bellis was
advancing to the very edge of Silverland, the Divine Knights were waging war
against the Blood Legion and the Goblins. The Goblin Lords, the Hand of
Tharnin, the Great Dragon--anything we could think of to throw at Dremlock. It
kept you fools busy."

"Then
Tenneth Bard sacrificed his life for Tharnin?" asked Lannon. It didn't
seem in character for the Black Knight to do something that unselfish, but Lannon
wasn't certain what the sorcerer's motivations were. Lannon's encounters with
Tenneth Bard had been brief and Lannon still knew very little about him.

"Not
at all," said Vorden. "Tenneth Bard wasn't killed in your attack. He
can't die like that. He is too old and too powerful. You caught him off guard
and stunned him, but rest assured he is alive and well. And he will return. He
doesn't need a portal to come back. He can pass between worlds at will."

"I
don't believe it," said Lannon, though he doubted his own words. "I
saw him fall from the ledge. And if he's so powerful, why didn't he kill me
when he had the chance?"

"He
spared you," said Vorden, "because he was trying to recruit you--just
like he did the Dark Watchmen of old. Those who possess the Eye of Divinity
make excellent servants of the Deep Shadow. He only wanted you to
think
he was trying to kill you. His goal was to subdue you and make you a
slave."

 
Lannon couldn't deny that Vorden's words were
believable. "Yet he must know by now that can never happen."

"It
doesn't matter," said Vorden. "You were only of minor importance in
the grand scheme of things. Tenneth Bard accomplished his goal, and he will
return to savor his victory. He will gloat over your grave, Lannon."

"But
what of the White Flamestone?" asked Lannon. "Surely Tenneth Bard
never foresaw that device entering the war."

"It
was an unpleasant surprise," said Vorden. "But we knew it was a sign
that your god had become quite desperate. After all, how desperate does a god
have to be to surrender a very dangerous piece of itself to petty mortals? The
Divine Essence knows Dremlock has little chance of survival. And if Dremlock
falls, the Divine Essence is doomed. It might be a god, but it is young and
vulnerable. It can be destroyed." Vorden's eyes shone with gleeful malice.

Vorden's
words invoked a strong desire within Lannon to protect the Divine Essence. The
thought of Dremlock's god and king perishing seemed unbearable, and he vowed to
himself that it would never happen.

"It
will
happen," said Vorden, as if reading his thoughts.

"What
else can you tell me?" asked Lannon.

Vorden
sighed. "I'm tired of talking. And I've healed up just fine, so there is
no need for me to remain in this bed. I know I'm going to be locked in the
dungeon eventually and forgotten, so I might as well get to it."

"You
won't be forgotten," said Lannon.

Vorden
rolled his eyes. "Does that mean you're going to come torment me every day
with your useless talk? I think I'd rather face the torture rack--which I'm
sure is on Dremlock's agenda. After all, they need to probe me for
information."

"The
Sacred Laws don't allow it," said Lannon.

Vorden
laughed. "You're so naive. They can get around the Sacred Laws by getting
someone else to do the torturing. You think Dremlock is so pure and righteous,
but it's no better than the Blood Legion. When people are desperate, anything
goes."

"I
don't know about that," said Lannon. "But Dremlock is preventing the
Deep Shadow from infesting all of Gallamerth. Maybe we aren't perfect, and
maybe the Sacred Laws do get twisted or ignored, but what else is there?"

"The
Birlotes and Olrogs," Vorden answered, shrugging. "But everything
else belongs to Bellis. And that's why Tharnin is destined to win this war.
Dremlock hid away in Silverland for too long, refusing to get involved in the
affairs of the outside lands--and that policy allowed Bellis to become a
monstrosity. The Birlotes and Olrogs hid themselves as well, in forest and
mountain. Fools."

"Should
we have spread out and stretched ourselves thin?" said Lannon. "Only
a select few can be Divine Knights. And we do what the Divine Essence orders us
to do. And it obviously ordered us to stay in Silverland and fight the Legion
and the Bloodlands."

"It
doesn't matter now," said Vorden. "It's too late."

"I
refuse to believe that," said Lannon.

"Of
course," said Vorden. "You never face up to reality. You live in a
dream world where there is always hope. It's sad and pathetic. Now as I said,
I'm tired of talking. So go away and leave me to my fate."

"Rest
up," said Lannon, and he turned away.

"People
better watch themselves around me," said Vorden.

Lannon
hesitated, then turned around. Vorden's face was twisted into an expression of
pure evil.

"That's
right," said Vorden. "I'm a vile monster. And my body has been
altered forever by the Hand of Tharnin. I have the strength of a Troll. If I
get a chance, I'll kill anyone who comes near me. I can't wait!"

"You're
not a monster," said Lannon. "You just need to get better."

Vorden
groaned. "You idiot! This is not some injury or disease! This is who I am!
Why can't you understand that?"

"Because
I've seen it before," said Lannon, "to a lesser degree. In my father.
He is a good man beneath his illness, and a strong man. He never let the
darkness claim him. You're strong too, Vorden--one of the strongest people I
know."

"Goodbye,"
said Vorden. "I hope to never see you again. And please don't compare me
to that pathetic old drunk."

"Goodbye,
my friend," said Lannon, and he walked away with a heavy heart. He'd been
hoping to see some flicker of change in Vorden, but he'd glimpsed nothing but
evil. He almost wished Vorden had died in the duel.

***

Outside
the Chamber of Healing, Taris Warhawk approached Aldreya and motioned her to
follow him. Aldreya could sense Taris had something important to reveal. The
two of them walked alone down a tunnel and then passed through a long room
filled with beds, trunks, and weapon racks. An iron door led to five chambers
that served as the fortress Command Quarters.

Taris
led Aldreya into his chamber--which was bathed in crimson from a single Birlote
torch and smelled of incense. A pair of wooden stools accompanied a small,
round table upon which green candles stood. Taris sat down and motioned her to
sit across from him. Aldreya did so, and studied the room. In spite of being
such an elite sorcerer, Taris possessed a simplistic chamber. Aside from a few
basic necessities, it contained a narrow bed, two oak chests engraved with
Birlote runes, and a dresser atop which sat some scrolls and an incense holder
made from a Vulture's skull.

 
"Would you care for some tea?"
Taris asked.

Aldreya
smiled and nodded, anxious to hear what the Tower Master had to say. Taris'
expression was unreadable. He could have been about to reveal terrible,
heartbreaking news or something Aldreya might find delightful. She had the urge
to wring her hands together, but she forced herself to sit still as Taris
heated some water with his sorcery and poured the tea.

"I
have good news and bad," said Taris, "depending on your perspective.
I believe my days at Dremlock are numbered."

 
Aldreya's heart sank. "You're leaving?
When?"

"I
don't yet know," said Taris. "I'm still healing from my injuries.
However, I doubt I will ever heal completely if I remain a Divine Knight. The
dark sorcery from the Hand of Tharnin and the Specter still haunts my body,
inflicting great pain on me at times. I require healing techniques that only
the Birlote Wizards of Borenthia can provide. I must further my knowledge.
Therefore, it has occurred to me that I must retire from service to Dremlock
and return to our homeland."

"But
what about the Blood Legion?" said Aldreya. "And Bellis?" She
barely tasted her tea. How could Dremlock make do without Taris?

"I'm
not leaving yet," said Taris. "In fact, I don't plan to depart until
we turn things in our favor. So it could be months or even years before I make
the journey. But inevitably it is a journey I must make--which is why I have
summoned you. I don't have a true apprentice. I never chose one. But I think
the time has come to begin training a true replacement for me at
Dremlock."

Aldreya
was speechless for a moment. Then she blurted out, "Am I to be your
apprentice?" Taris had provided her with significant training and wisdom
since she'd come to Dremlock, but being his apprentice would give her access to
knowledge he wouldn't otherwise share.

"Possibly,"
said Taris, casually sipping his tea. "You are young enough and talented
enough. You have a noble heart and the bloodline of the Elder Family. Royalty
has its privileges in allowing me to share the deepest secrets of Birlote
sorcery with you, and I will gladly share them with someone who is loyal to
Dremlock and the Divine Essence."