Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (27 page)

"Aldrek
will attempt to make you invisible," said Shennen. "However, his
power works best if you can assist him. In a moment, an Orange Squire will
enter this room. She is a highly trained observer who is supposed to take note
of anything unusual and report it. You must begin projecting your will into her
mind before she even sets foot in here. So get to it!"

Lannon
moved close to the chamber wall and summoned the Eye. He projected it out in a
field, sweeping the chamber, and he focused on being unseen. He'd never used
the Eye in this fashion--trying to force his will into someone's mind--and it
felt awkward and uncomfortable.

Shennen
and the other Blue Knights stepped out of the room. Then the Orange Squire
entered. She was a plump Norack girl with black hair and very pale skin, and
she wore her Orange sash over a blue dress. She had an aura of importance for
an Orange Squire.

 
She scanned the room slowly--and paused when
her eyes moved toward Lannon. His heart racing, he focused the Eye directly on
her, insisting she not be able to see him. She hesitated, and then her gaze
moved past him. Having examined the room in detail, she left.

Then
Shennen returned alone. "Well done, Lannon."

Lannon
let the Eye falter. "So it worked?"

"She
didn't see you," Shennen replied. "However, she did note that
something in the room unnerved her. She could feel the presence of the Eye
somehow. That is unfortunate, but there is nothing to be done about it. If the
Eye gives you away, it is not true invisibility. However, unless you're an
elite Birlote sorcerer, learning the art of invisibility usually takes
tremendous talent, dedication, and practice. Only a few Blue Knights have ever
mastered it. But the Eye has given you a great advantage, in spite of that
obvious drawback."

"Then
I became invisible," said Lannon, amazed.

"You
did your best," said Shennen, "and I'm satisfied with the result.
Again, it was
limited
invisibility, so bear that in mind. And, of
course, you had Aldrek Windspear to help you."

Suddenly,
a tall Birlote appeared out of thin air in the corner. His silver hair was
concealed beneath a wide-brimmed black hat, and he wore a long black cloak. He
smiled at Lannon, went to him, and shook his hand.

"I
only helped you slightly, Lannon," said Aldrek. "The power of the Eye
did most of the work. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank
you," said Lannon, excited.

"It's
a start," said Shennen, "but because the Eye almost gave you away, I
suggest you simply allow Aldrek to conceal you on our mission. You should only
attempt invisibility yourself if you have no choice."

"I
agree," said Aldrek. "Yet Lannon's gift is extraordinary. I have
never seen anyone learn this sorcery so quickly and with no training."

"Our
survival may depend entirely on stealth," said Shennen. "We're going
to try to enter a heavily fortified keep, where the core of the Blood Legion
resides. We can only guess at what horrors will await us there. If we're
discovered and captured, we will face torment and death. Our goal, of course,
is to retrieve the Black Flamestone--but if Timlin Woodmaster gets in our way,
then he will face the blade and Dremlock will be free of the threat of that
traitor."

Chapter
17:
 
The Poison Claw of Bellis

Timlin
sat at the head of a table in the Dining Chamber. He presented a calm, stately
demeanor, but inside he cursed himself yet again for returning to Old Hammer
Hall. He sipped some ale and noticed that his hand was trembling. The Dining
Chamber was a mountain cavern lined with thick oaken tables and chairs--a
rugged, torch-lit room fit for barbarians. Timlin disliked everything about Old
Hammer Hall and its Dwarven design, and he longed to be far away from there
with the Black Flamestone safe in his possession.

 
Seated to his right was Ethella, holding her
crystal staff adorned with demonic faces, and to his left was Ulmason
Deathhand, in full black armor. Also present were Hoytus Shadowblood and Rulain
Knightslayer, the Dwarven brothers with sullen faces. This was all that
remained of the Blood Legion's High Council. The rest had perished at Blombalk
Fortress.

Also
seated at the table was Omharal, the High Wizard, and two of his elite Knights,
known as Guardians, who were concealed by golden armor and looked almost like
metal statues with swords and shields. Omharal was a lean, sour-faced Birlote
with cold eyes and braided silver hair. He wore a green robe with gold
trim--adorned with the white Crest of Bellis--and he held a colorful staff with
three, feather-shaped blades at the top. He was a renegade sorcerer from
Borenthia, wanted for murder in his homeland for the assassination of a Birlote
Lord. Some referred to him as the Poison Claw of Bellis, due to his preferred
method of dealing with his enemies, and he was feared and hated throughout
Gallamerth.

The
meeting had been delayed for a few days while they waited for word on Vorden's
situation. When no news came, they assumed Vorden was either dead or captured
and the Hand of Tharnin lost to Dremlock.

"Anything
new to report, Timlin?" asked Omharal.

"Nothing,"
said Timlin. "Dorok's Hand is silent."

"It
is good that the gauntlet is lost," said Omharal, with a shrug. "It
was too dangerous to be useful. Also, it was an evil item and an offense to our
king." His Golden Knights nodded in agreement.

Timlin
also agreed. The Hand of Tharnin was evil and disgusting--unlike the wondrous
Black Flamestone that possessed only beauty and purity. Vorden had likely
perished with his demonic gauntlet, and Timlin felt that his old friend had
gotten what he'd deserved. All Vorden had cared about was power and glory. But
Timlin cared about beauty and truth and peace--all the things the Black
Flamestone offered him so easily.

"But
Vorden is still our leader," said Ethella, fixing her icy gaze on Timlin.
"And now, if he lives, he has fallen into Dremlock's clutches and could
face torment or execution. We have an obligation to free him."

"Agreed,"
said Timlin, though he didn't really care if Vorden ever returned to his role
as Supreme Commander or not. If Vorden was alive, he could rot in Dremlock
Dungeons for all Timlin cared. Timlin's mind was on one thing only--the Black
Flamestone and how he might escape with the device.

The
High Wizard frowned. "Of what value is this Vorden fellow without the Hand
of Tharnin? He has no power."

"But
he remains our leader," Ethella insisted. "We are bound by honor to
acknowledge that. Would you abandon your king if he was stripped of his power
and imprisoned? Surely Bellis understands the concept of honor."

Omharal
nodded. "Of course. But should a former Squire of Dremlock--a mere
lad--ever have been appointed your commander in the first place? Certainly not.
Perhaps Vorden should be removed from his position. Can't you vote on it? I
understand if you were afraid to vote on the issue before, but Vorden can no
longer harm you. It will be easy to simply vote him down and forget him."

"We
weren't afraid," muttered Rulain. "We fear no one."

Hoytus
bowed his head, however, doubt in his eyes.

"Yes,
the Legion Council was terrified of Vorden," said Timlin, with a laugh,
"and rightfully so. I vote to keep Vorden as our leader. If anyone wants
to vote me down, go ahead. But we don't know exactly what happened at Dorok's
Hand--whether or not Vorden was really killed or captured." This was true,
and Timlin saw no reason to invoke Vorden's wrath if he still lived, when all
Timlin wanted was to get away from everyone and their wretched problems.

"I
second Timlin's vote," said Ethella.

Rulain
glanced at his brother, then said, "No reason to question Vorden's
leadership until we know for sure what became of him."

"Agreed,"
said Hoytus, a shadow of fear in his eyes.

"Vorden
will remain our absent leader," said Ulmason Deathhand. "He served
the Legion well, as Timlin now does."

Omharal
shrugged. "It matters not. Soon Dorok's Hand will fall to Bellis, and your
leader--if he still lives--will be returned to you, for whatever that's worth.
The Hand of Tharnin, however, must be destroyed if possible."

"What
if Vorden still wears the gauntlet?" asked Ethella. "It is a
difficult device to unlock, though I suppose Dremlock could just cut off his
arm."

Timlin
chuckled at her latter statement.

"Then
he will be commanded to surrender it," said Omharal. "The device is
unacceptable. King Verlamer has ordered it destroyed. He has also ordered that
the Black Flamestone be brought to Bellis."

Timlin
cringed inwardly, and his hand locked around the Flamestone in his cloak pocket
so fiercely his knuckles hurt. He wanted to draw his Flayer and stab Omharal
through the heart. He seriously considered it for a moment, thinking that if he
struck quickly enough he could succeed. The wizard was not far away and
apparently wore no armor (though his robe could possibly hide a thin
breastplate). But Timlin decided to bide his time and wait for a better
opportunity.

Rulain
Knightslayer sneered. His dark-grey beard, which was set in three braids,
quivered with rage and contempt as his hands knotted into fists. "So we're
just puppets of Bellis now? We do everything we're told? The Black Flamestone
should go to our Goblin Lords and nowhere else! How arrogant is Bellis to make
such demands?"

"Calm
yourself, my brother," said Hoytus, looking alarmed.

But
Rulain kept his gaze on the High Wizard.

"Arrogant?"
said Omharal, his eyes narrowing. "Bellis does not employ the services of
foul Goblins, and we will not permit the Black Flamestone to be given to them.
We have seers who can unlock the secrets of that gem. If you want to see
Dremlock fall, you should cooperate with us fully. We are working together for
mutual benefit. Bear that in mind, Dwarf."

"And
once Dremlock falls," said Rulain, "will we have our independence
restored to us? I highly doubt it. We will continue to function as
slaves."

"Be
careful, brother," Hoytus mumbled.

Rulain
swatted an ale jug off the table. "Why should I be careful? I'm a member
of the Legion Council! I have the right to speak my mind! For hundreds of
years, the Blood Legion was independent and bowed to no one. Now, suddenly,
we're just slaves to the King of Bellis?"

"Calm
yourself," Timlin ordered. But excitement surged through him. This was the
opportunity he'd been waiting for.

But
Rulain rose from his chair, his Dwarven temper boiling over. "I won't calm
myself! How dare this vile wizard come into our fortress and start making
demands? We would be better off siding with Dremlock than bowing to this
filth!"

"Perhaps
you've had too much ale, Rulain," said Ethella.

Omharal
sneered. "You will bow, Dwarf, one way or another."

"Never!"
Rulain shouted. "I'd rather die than--"

Suddenly,
Rulain went into a coughing fit and clutched his chest. He looked startled and
confused, glancing down. Then he slumped forward over the table, knocking over
some mugs and a pitcher.

Omharal
gazed down at him and smiled.

Hoytus
gasped. "Brother, are you okay?" He shook Rulain's shoulder. Rulain
didn't respond.

Timlin
checked Rulain for a pulse, but found none. He ordered the fallen Dwarf taken
to the healers, though he knew it was too late. "I think he's dead,"
said Timlin, adopting a concerned expression even though he didn't care at all.
He'd never liked Rulain Knightslayer anyway.

"Perhaps
his heart gave out," said Omharal. He casually took a sip of wine from a
crystal goblet. "Too much temper."

Hoytus
jumped up and raised his battle axe, glowering at Omharal. "Liar! You slew
my brother with your foul sorcery!"

Omharal
laughed, as Rulain's body was carried away by two Soldiers. "Prove it. You
cannot."

Hoytus
hesitated, then shouted, "You know I can never prove it! But I...I know it
was you! I'll kill you for that!"

Hoytus'
battle axe erupted into crimson flames, and he drove the blade down toward
Omharal. But one of the Golden Knights blocked the stroke with his sword. The
two Guardians rose to defend their leader.

Timlin
leapt to his feet. "Enough!" He pointed at Omharal. "I want this
sorcerer and his guards thrown in the dungeon for their treachery."

Ethella
gazed at Timlin in shock. "We cannot oppose Bellis!"

Ulmason
Deathhand rose and stood next to Timlin, towering over him and holding his huge
axe poised for combat. His one eye smoldered with defiance as he gazed out from
his horned helm. "Timlin has given an order--and shown guts in doing so.
Anyone who defies him must deal with me!"

"In
Vorden's absence," said Timlin, "I am the Supreme Commander,
remember? These three are to be arrested at once. Go ahead and vote me out of
power...if you dare, or do as you're told."

"I
stand with you, my lord," said Ulmason. "We are not puppets of
Bellis, to allow a Council member to be assassinated by poisonous sorcery right
before our eyes. The Blood Legion does not yield to such treachery!"

"But
what if it
was
his heart?" said Ethella. "It could have been a
natural death. Where is our evidence of treachery?"

"We
will investigate the matter," said Timlin. "Meanwhile, Omharal will
be imprisoned. If found guilty, he will be executed."

"I
stand with Timlin!" Rulain growled. "Omharal--you will pay dearly for
your cowardly attack on my brother!"

Ethella
hesitated, then said, "I stand with Timlin as well."

Legion
Soldiers closed around Omharal and his two Golden Knights, locking irons onto
their wrists. Their weapons were taken.

Omharal
looked surprised and enraged. "So the infamous Blood Legion is actually a
bunch of fools. I expected better from you. You choose to seal your fate over
the death of that arrogant sod?"

Rulain
shook his fist at Omharal. "My brother!"

"You
made a grave mistake, wizard," said Ulmason. "The Blood Legion honors
its brothers. You have underestimated our loyalty."

Omharal
glowered but said nothing, as the High Wizard and his two Guardians were lead
away in shackles to the dungeon.

Timlin
seized Rulain's arm. "I promise you there will be justice for your
brother. For now, try to control yourself."

Rulain
flinched away from his grasp. "Control myself? My brother was just
murdered right before my eyes, and the killer still lives!"

"Not
for long," said Timlin. "We will plan a proper execution."

"Bellis
will be enraged," said Ethella, shaking her head. "We dare not
execute him, or we will surely doom ourselves."

"Again,
I need time to think," said Timlin.

Rulain's
eyes widened. "But he will be put to death for this, right? There is no
chance you will let this vile Omharal leave here alive?"

"Justice
will be served," Timlin mumbled.

"I
must go and see my brother," said Rulain, wiping tears from his eyes.
"This...how could this happen right in front of me?"

"Go
and see him," Timlin said gently. He covered his mouth to hide a yawn,
bored with Rulain's concerns. "We will talk later."

Looking
stunned, agonized, and furious all at once, Rulain trudged from the Dining
Chamber. He paused in the doorway and turned, as if he intended to say
something more, but Timlin motioned him along. He left the chamber.

Timlin
struggled to keep from grinning. He'd just bought himself a bit of time, but
that was all he needed to flee from Old Hammer Hall. The Black Flamestone
burned hot beneath his touch, prompting him to be fearless in carrying out his
escape plan. Timlin sensed the stone would assist him--perhaps lend him power
on a level he couldn't begin to imagine. There was no doubt the Blood Legion
and Bellis would come after him, but he would be ready for them.