Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (5 page)

Grinning,
Jerret yanked his broadsword from its sheath. The blade--made of stout
Glaetherin, a material that was very suitable for channeling sorcery--shimmered
with crimson fire. "Just tell me where to swing, Lannon!"

Aldreya
drew her dagger, her green eyes darting about as she sought to glimpse enemies
in the mist. She rode alongside Galvia, whose war hammer was glowing so hot it
looked like it had just come from the forge.

Vannas
held forth the White Flamestone, and its light seemed to push back the fog a
bit--but visibility barely increased.

"The
fog is a living creature!" Lannon warned.

Calmly,
Lothrin prepared his bow. He sat relaxed in the saddle, his head tilted to one
side as if he were listening for his enemies. "Use your weapon against the
fog, my cousin," he said to Vannas.

But
the prince made no move. He looked hesitant.

"Lothrin
is right," said Jace, who sat on horseback close to Vannas. "You may
be able to burn the fog."

"Yes,
attack the fog!" Taris ordered.

But
before Vannas could do so, the Wolves were amongst them. With Lannon being the
only one who could see more than a couple of feet in any direction, mass
confusion resulted. The Wolves used their keen sense of smell to find their
enemies, leaving the Knights at a large disadvantage. The attack would have
been far more devastating if most of the Knights had not been heavily armored,
as snapping Wolf jaws were repeatedly turned away by thick leather and steel.

Taris
commanded everyone to hold formation, but the wall of Knights that surrounded
the Squires soon broke apart. Magically charged weapons hacked into Wolf flesh
and bone, and colorful sparks erupted in the fog along with cries of pain from
both Knights and Goblins.

A
Wolf leapt from the fog at Lothrin, but he shot the beast in the heart and then
ducked as the Wolf flew over him. The Wolf was dead before it hit the snow.
Lothrin sat up calmly and readied another arrow.

Jerret
swung viciously at a Wolf with his broadsword and missed, throwing himself off
balance in the saddle. The Wolf seized his fur cloak with its jaws and yanked
him from his horse. The two disappeared into the snow and fog. Lannon's gaze
quickly found them, however, and he seized the Wolf with the Eye of Divinity
and held it motionless while Jerret impaled the beast.

Vannas
twisted about in the saddle as dark shapes moved around him in the mist.
"I cannot tell friend from foe!" he yelled, his eyes wide.

Then
a huge hand reached from the fog and seized his shoulder. It was Jace.
"Ignore the wolves!" Jace commanded. "Concentrate on the fog!"

Vannas
blasted white fire into the mist, at a high enough angle that no Knights were
in its path. The fog parted, allowing the energy beam to pass through
harmlessly. "It's not working!"

"Widen
your attack," came Taris' command from somewhere nearby. "Everyone
move away from him!"

Vannas
closed his eyes, his face grim with focus, and the White Flamestone became
engulfed in a radiant glow. He waited while the others (with the help of
Lannon's guidance) rode away from him.

"Be
careful, young prince!" Jace warned. "You could do as much harm as
good!"

 
"I can control it," Vannas
insisted.

"We're
about twelve feet away from you, Prince Vannas," Lannon called out. He
threw all of his energy into shielding himself, wondering if the Eye was strong
enough to protect him from the White Flamestone's wrath. He hoped Vannas knew
what he was doing and that the whole company of Knights and Squires didn't end
up as piles of ash.

 
A Wolf burst through the defenders and
charged at Vannas, but Lannon seized it with the Eye and dragged it down into
the snow. Then the radiant glow burst forth in all directions for several feet,
turning the Wolf to ash.

The
fog itself started to burn, shuddering and recoiling as if in pain. The white
fire seemed to know where to go, avoiding the Knights and horses as it burned
away the fog. Moments later, the mist had dispersed and the remaining Wolves
were revealed. The Knights quickly put an end to them.

A
few Knights were injured from Wolf bites, but otherwise they had come through
unscathed. Cheers arose and they chanted Vannas' name, as he sat beaming in the
saddle. Lannon groaned quietly, thinking the prince's ego was sure to expand
some more--though Lannon couldn't deny that Vannas seemed destined for great
deeds and deserved the praise.

***

The
riders wondered if the journey was going to consist of one ambush after the
next, but as the sun rose and set and the mountains grew distant, they
encountered no further trouble. The weather warmed during their journey on the
Boulder Plains, and melting snow slid off of rocks and pines around them. A
spring rain began to fall, soaking the riders. Fog settled over the snow
again--only this time Taris assured them it was the natural kind.

Natural
or not, however, the fog caused fears of another ambush. Two Elder Hawks
circled low above, scanning the mist for enemies. Massive boulders loomed like
Ogre sentinels in the fog, and roots from fallen pines jutted up like clusters
of Pit Crawlers here and there. The riders were glimpsing false Goblins everywhere,
and tension was high. The Squires huddled together on their horses, knowing
they were the prime targets of any attack. Lannon knew that a single arrow from
the fog could mean his end, but continuously shielding himself with the Eye of
Divinity or probing the landscape around him made him tire quickly, so he
simply entrusted his fate to the Knights who guarded him.

In
spite of his powers, Lannon was still flesh and blood, and death could take him
in an instant from the world. He wished he had the ability to make himself
immune to damage. Lannon had tried wearing Glaetherin armor offered by the
Knights, but it was heavy and seemed to distract from his ability to channel
the Eye. He realized he would always be vulnerable--able to die from the cut of
the simplest blade. He could only shield himself briefly and then he was no
different than any other Squire. Lannon would never even possess the resilience
of Taris Warhawk or Jace--men with bodies that had been strengthened by sorcery
over the years to the point where they aged much slower and healed much faster
than normal men.

That
evening they camped near the shores of the Grey Lake. The Squires were provided
with a large tent to accommodate them all, and they were placed under heavy
guard. As night settled over the land and the rain beat down steadily on the
tent, the Squires sat around a bulky Olrog lantern that had been specifically
designed for safe use in tents. They summoned the fires of sorcery to dry out
their clothes. Soon it was warm and comfortable in the tent.

"I
like the sound of the raindrops," said Lothrin, who sat sharpening his
dagger. "It reminds me of Borenthia--the rain falling in the treetops.
When others would sit inside, I would venture out in the rain along the
branches to hunt." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I always loved
the smell of the forest during those times."

"What
animals did you hunt in the rain, cousin?" asked Vannas.

"Many
things," said Lothrin, his eyes distant. "Some animals will only be
seen when the rains fall. The meat is a true delight."

Vannas
shrugged. "If you say so. I wouldn't know, because I always stayed indoors
during the rainy season in front of a warm fireplace."

"I
long for home constantly," said Aldreya, sighing. "Dwelling in that
frozen cave of Dorok's Hand made me realize how good life was in
Borenthia."

"I
miss Borenthia as well," said Vannas, "especially the Royal Hall--but
not enough that I'd care to return there anytime soon. Dorok's Hand is such a
foul place it makes one want to live anywhere else. Now that we've left that
wretched fortress behind, I feel good again about being a Squire."

Lothrin
held up his dagger and inspected it in the lantern light, then put it to the
sharpening stone again. "Home is wherever we are, and we must make the
most of it."

Lannon
thought of the little cabin in the woods where his mother and father had spent
their days feuding while Lannon struggled with constant boredom. He wasn't
surprised to find he didn't miss it. "My home is Dremlock Kingdom,"
he said, "until the end of my days."

"As
is mine," said Galvia. "I am the daughter of a fisherman from
Silvergate. My life was wretched until the Knights recruited me."

"In
what way?" asked Jerret, leaning close to her.

Galvia
shrugged. "In ways I won't talk about, so don't bother asking."

Jerret
rolled his eyes. "Come on, we're all friends here."

Galvia
hesitated, then said, "I had a hard life on the boats, if you must know.
Too many drunken men around who care nothing for the welfare of
others--especially women. I had to learn to protect myself from an early age,
because my father seldom protected me." She bowed her head. "It
doesn't matter now. The Knights took me away from there and now I have a home
and a purpose."

"I'm
sorry to hear about your childhood, Galvia," said Aldreya.

"Me
too," said Jerret, with a troubled expression.

Galvia
gazed at Jerret. "So what about you, Jerret Dragonsbane? What kind of life
did you lead before Dremlock?"

Jerret
looked uncomfortable. "Mine was boring.
Very
boring."

"Then
by all means keep it to yourself," said Prince Vannas, yawning. He leaned
back on his elbows. "I'd rather not hear a boring story."

"I
want to hear it," said Galvia.

"Trust
me, you don't," said Jerret. He shifted about, almost appearing to squirm.
"It will put you to sleep."

Galvia
gave him a curious stare.

Lothrin
sheathed his dagger, his green eyes gleaming in the lantern light. The lean
Squire sat with his legs crossed, some jerky on one knee and his sharpening
stone on the other. His long, silver hair partially concealed the strange,
leaf-shaped birthmark on his face. "The past doesn't matter now, because
we're here together. We can make our own destiny."

Vannas
held up the pouch containing the White Flamestone. "My destiny is this,
cousin. The only destiny I want or need."

Lothrin
shook his head. "Your destiny is not a stone, oh prince. That's just a
weapon, like my dagger."

"Not
just a weapon," said Vannas. "The
ultimate
weapon."

"Don't
be a prisoner of that stone," said Lothrin, frowning.

"Prisoner?"
said Vannas. "Hardly. This Flamestone is bonded to me. It is a part of me
now and a part of my future."

"You're
a man," said Lothrin. "Flesh and blood, and nothing more. Be a simple
man who holds a great stone, not a great man who holds a great stone--or that
stone will crush you with the weight of its burden."

Vannas
laughed. "You and your silly riddles. I always did like that about you. It
amuses me."

Lothrin
chuckled. "Glad I can entertain, at least."

Lannon
considered the meaning of Lothrin's words. Vannas seemed obsessed with the
White Flamestone and terribly overconfident--not hesitant in the least to brag
about his power, as if he'd forgotten it all came from the stone. He seemed too
caught up in his own greatness and sense of destiny. Lannon wondered why the
Eye of Divinity had never had that same effect on him. Lannon had always been
fearful of the Eye, and though his confidence in using it had increased, the
fear and uncertainty remained. The Eye of Divinity seemed darker than the White
Flamestone and laced with peril, having led the Dark Watchmen to a bad end. On
the other hand, perhaps the power of the White Flamestone seemed incorruptible
to Vannas--and perhaps it was incorruptible, but Vannas himself was not.

Thrake
Wolfaxe stepped into the tent, rain dripping from his beard. He sat down and
smiled. His huge, muscular form shivered beneath the fur cloak he wore over his
armor. He seemed to take up half the tent. "Greetings, Squires."

They
greeted him in return. Aldreya quickly moved to his side to dry him with her dagger,
but Thrake seized her arm. "None of that," he said gruffly, pushing
her away. "I'll take care of it myself."

Aldreya
bowed and sat back down.

Thrake
drew his own dagger and set to work drying himself off with the mystical fire.
"You should be able to rest easy, Squires. You're very well protected. No
foe can get to this tent without a serious fight on his hands."

"Thank
you, Master Thrake," said Jerret, who idolized the Red Knight and seemed
to think of him almost like an older brother. "I know that with you
guarding us, we have nothing to fear."

For
an instant, a shadow of doubt settled over Thrake's face. Then he gave a weary
smile. "I hope that's true, Jerret."

"Thanks
to you and Master Shennen," said Prince Vannas, "I can sleep in
peace." He hesitated, then said, "Master Shennen is guarding us as
well, right?"