Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (22 page)

Daledus
struck at Ulmason's legs in retaliation, but the Dark Knight easily blocked the
blow and swung his fist at the Dwarf's nose. Daledus evaded the punch, and
their axes clashed together several more times.

At
last, Ulmason threw down his helm and axe and raised his hands, indicating that
he wanted to engage Daledus in a test of strength. The Dwarf dropped his own
weapon and, looking delighted, locked up with the giant. The two fighters grunted
as they grappled. They fell down and engaged in a wrestling match that went on
for some time, but neither could manage to get the other in a submission hold.
Their muscles bulged beneath their armor and their faces turned crimson from
strain.

"Is
this a wrestling match or a duel?" Trenton complained.

Some
of the Knights and Soldiers jeered, including Jerret, not liking this form of
combat.

The
two fighters rained blows on each other, and soon both were bruised and
bloodied. Weaponless combat or not, it remained brutal. At last they gave up on
bare-handed fighting and retrieved their axes. They were tired and panting, and
they took a moment to rest to the sound of more jeering from the crowd.

"This
is the worst duel I have ever witnessed," Shennen muttered.

"I
wholeheartedly agree," said Trenton, with a grimace of disgust. "It
is shameful."

"How
long must this drag on?" said Jace, yawning.

Lannon
marveled at the stamina of the two warriors. They had both taken quite a
beating but continued hammering each other.

 
Yet the fighters seemed almost too tired to
go on--the intense grappling having sapped their energy. They swung their axes
slowly at each other, and spent a lot of time circling. Ulmason landed a
glancing blow to Daledus' shoulder that staggered the Dwarf, but otherwise they
made no progress.

"It
has gone on far too long," said Shennen. "It should have ended
quickly. Now they fight like old men. What an embarrassment!"

To
the utter disgust of the crowd, they threw down their weapons again and grappled
with each other. They fell down and lay on their backs for a moment, completely
exhausted, chests heaving. Then they rolled over and battered each other with
weak punches for a while that drew a bit of fresh blood.

"The
duel should be ended," said Shennen.

"That
isn't allowed," said Trenton, with a sigh. "They are required to
fight until submission or death--no matter how long it takes."

Ulmason
accidentally yanked Daledus' beard. Daledus cried out in rage and headbutted
the giant, leaving a new gash in both of their foreheads.

Shennen
turned his back on the duel, refusing to watch the combatants continue to
disgrace themselves. Trenton's face was red with humiliation.

As
a Grey Dwarf, Daledus had more stamina than his foe. But he was also failing
miserably to conserve that stamina. He threw everything he had into every blow
and chokehold, while Ulmason seemed to pace himself and spent a lot of time
defending against the enraged Dwarf. At last, Daledus began to wear down to the
point where he could barely move, yet still he went on trying to viciously
hammer his foe. Even the Knightly energy that helped sustain his strength was
depleted.

The
duel's conclusion was the biggest disgrace of all for Dremlock, as Daledus
simply ran out of energy and Ulmason (who'd been slyly conserving his strength)
took control of the fight. Ulmason managed to get Daledus in a firm chokehold,
and he squeezed the Dwarf's neck until Daledus was nearly unconscious. Having
no choice but to submit or be strangled to death, Daledus tapped his foe three
times to signal that he'd had enough.

Ulmason
staggered up from the snow and raised his arms. As he struggled for breath, he
bellowed, "Victory is mine once again! The Black Flamestone goes to the
Legion! I am truly invincible!"

Shennen
glared at Trenton, then walked away.

Trenton
knelt, clutched his head, and groaned.

***

Trenton
retreated to his tent, as the Blood Legion gathered their supplies in
preparation for the journey back to Old Hammer Hall. Dremlock's Knights stood
around looking defeated, as gleeful Soldiers scurried about loading wagons. The
Black Flamestone was going back to their mountain stronghold, and Dremlock
could do nothing about it. The Knights soon took to muttering that the duel had
been a bad idea--that they should have taken the Flamestone by warfare.

But
the complaints meant nothing, and the Knights could only watch in frustration
as the Blood Legion rode forth from Blombalk. The Legion didn't care if
Dremlock occupied the fortress, for they knew the Divine Knights didn't have
enough warriors there to secure it indefinitely. Taking the Black Flamestone to
Old Hammer Hall--where it would be well defended--was their primary focus.

Trenton
called the Divine Shield together for a meeting in his tent. They sat in a
circle, waiting for the Investigator to speak. Trenton looked embarrassed and
gloomy, and his hand trembled as he sipped some water.

"What
is Taris' status?" asked Trenton.

Shennen
looked troubled. "He has awakened in his tent, but he doesn't remember who
he is or why he is there. He also seems to be partially blind and deaf, and he
can't move one of his arms properly. He talks with slurred speech and some of
his words sound like babble."

Aldreya
groaned. "Then it is as I feared--his mind has suffered damage."

"Yes,"
said Shennen. "The wound went into his brain. The healers have already
partially closed it and soon nothing will remain but a scar. But he has lost
some memories--possibly forever--and clearly some of his other functions are
compromised. He may never return to normal."

Lannon
and Aldreya exchanged a sorrowful glance. Lannon couldn't imagine Taris in the
condition Shennen had described.

"Taris
shall undoubtedly receive Dremlock's highest honor," said Trenton,
"the Silver Sash. He sacrificed his body in an effort to slow the Specter
down so we could slay it. His heroism will be long remembered."

"Yet
the Black Flamestone goes with our enemies," said Shennen. "You have
command now, Trenton, until Taris regains his wits. What are your orders?"

"We
cannot pursue the Blood Legion," said Trenton, "for three days. But
we can return to Dorok's Hand and plan our next move. We will prepare for the
journey immediately. We must abandon Blombalk Fortress."

"I
agree," said Shennen. His eyes narrowed. "But the Legion made an
error. They assumed we would ride from the fortress and leave it as it is.
After all, it cannot easily be burned because the logs are treated to protect
against fire. Also, the Legion assumes we are greedy and will eventually want
to claim the fortress for Dremlock. But I have another idea. I suggest we burn
it to ash."

"But
as you said," Trenton pointed out, "it cannot easily be burned. It
would take some time to bring down such a large, stout fortress."

"Prince
Vannas will take care of it," said Shennen. "It is not immune to the
white fire."

"Burn
the whole fortress down?" said Vannas, a hint of excitement in his voice.

 
Shennen nodded. "Unleash the White
Flamestone, until nothing remains but ash. That is--if Trenton approves."

Trenton
pondered it for a moment, then said, "It is an ancient fortress, and it
could be very useful to Dremlock. But we can't risk the Legion seizing control
of it again. Yes, we will gather our supplies and ride out. Then our eager
prince will bring it down."

"So
it's back to Dorok's Hand," said Jace, looking displeased. "I assume
Dremlock will plan a mission to retrieve the Black Flamestone."

"Yes,"
said Shennen, his eyes gleaming. "In fact, I've already planned it out. A
small group of Blue Knights will sneak into Old Hammer Hall and retrieve the
Black Flamestone before the Blood Legion ever learns how to unlock its full
potential."

"Will
I be included?" asked Vannas.

"No,"
said Shennen. "It would be too risky, as you're not properly trained in
the arts of stealth. However, Lannon has enough training for the mission, along
with his sorcery, and he can help us locate our target."

Lannon
nodded. He wondered if they would be forced to confront Timlin at Old Hammer
Hall. Timlin was a prime target of Dremlock, and if he got in the way, the Blue
Knights would not hesitate to slay him.

"And
the situation with Bellis?" asked Trenton.

Shennen
shook his head. "It will have to wait. Surely you agree that we must
retrieve the Black Flamestone as soon as possible."

"Quite
a dire situation," said Jace, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Bellis
closes in, as the Blood Legion rides off with their deadly prize."

Chapter
13:
 
The
Journey
North

 
As he guided his horse, Timlin gazed at the
Black Flamestone. It felt warm in his hand and seemed to pulse as if with a
heartbeat. It was a beautiful gem and seemed to fit perfectly in his palm. He
gazed at the sparkling dark blue surface and the red veins that were spread out
over it in a pattern. It was delightfully perfect, and he felt as if it had
always belonged to him--that it had come home at last.

"My
lord," said Ulmason, who rode next to Timlin, "you've been staring at
that gem for quite some time. You look lost in thought."

Timlin's
hand closed around the Flamestone protectively, and he thrust it into a pocket
of his cloak. "Just marveling at its...appearance."

"Perhaps
you shouldn't get too attached to it," said Ulmason. "You may not be
the one who is best suited to wield it. Perhaps you should give it to one of
the priests, as they are immune to its charms. Remember, it was a priest who
was beginning to unlock its secrets--who opened the portal to Tharnin."

"Sure,"
said Timlin, rolling his eyes, "and look how well that turned out. The
fool thought he could control a Specter."

"Nevertheless,"
said Ulmason, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn't hear, "it seems
the Goblin Lords are best suited to possess it."

"Maybe,"
said Timlin, deeply annoyed at Ulmason's words, "but I will guard it for
now. Who better than me to keep it safe?"

Ulmason
bowed, but his mouth was set in a frown.

"They
will destroy Blombalk," said Timlin, in an effort to change the subject.
He was certain Dremlock would use the White Flamestone to burn it down. "I
think that's the last we've seen of our great fortress."

"Perhaps
they hope to occupy it," said Ulmason.

"No,"
said Timlin, "Blombalk is doomed. Dremlock is all too eager to burn
everything to ash these days. The power of the White Flamestone has made the
Divine Knights arrogant and aggressive."

"Will
it be any different for us," said Ulmason, "if we learn the secrets
of the Heart of Kings? Will anything be left standing?"

Timlin
shrugged, his fingers tightening around the gem in his cloak. "All I want
is for Dremlock to fall. Beyond that, I don't care what happens."

"But
what of the Deep Shadow?" said Ulmason.

"I
serve," said Timlin, "but I'm not a slave. I control my
destiny."

Ulmason
smiled. "Are you sure, my lord?"

Timlin
wasn't so sure, but he didn't answer. He could feel the crushing grasp of the
Deep Shadow, squeezing his heart and seeking to guide his destiny. The Voice of
Tharnin was already whispering to him, warning him to surrender the Black
Flamestone to the Goblin Lords. But Timlin refused. The Flamestone seemed to
give him power to resist the will of the Deep Shadow. He didn't reveal this to
anyone, but the Black Flamestone had already bonded to him and disrupted the
hold that Tharnin had on his soul. Suddenly, Timlin was filled with doubts
about everything--including his war against Dremlock. He almost wanted to run
away with the Black Flamestone, to be free of all these petty distractions and
struggles for power.

The
threat of Bellis and its insane leader was also on Timlin's mind. King Verlamer
Kessing was held in high regard by Tharnin--meaning that Timlin was expected to
bow before him at some point. Tharnin might even demand Timlin hand over the
Black Flamestone to him. Right now the Blood Legion was supposed to be under
Timlin's command, but Timlin knew that when orders from Bellis arrived, he was
required to obey without question. The growing shadow of Bellis was yet another
gloomy issue nagging at Timlin's mind and making him want to escape from his
burdens into isolation with his dark prize.

The
other two Legion Council Members who rode with them--Hoytus Shadowblood and
Rulain Knightslayer--had been conferring with the two Goblin Lords. Now the
Dwarven brothers rode up alongside Timlin and Ulmason. They made no effort to
hide the fact that they didn't want Timlin as their leader, but Timlin wasn't
concerned. Fear of the Deep Shadow--and the possibility of Vorden's
return--kept them in obedience.

"We
have decided," said Hoytus, "that the Black Flamestone should be
given into the care of our Goblin priests, so they can begin training to unlock
its power. What say you, Timlin?"

"I
say
no
," Timlin replied. "At least, not until we arrive at Old
Hammer Hall. Then we will hold another meeting to decide the issue."

"You're
defying the will of Tharnin," said Rulain. "No good can come of that.
The rest of the Legion Council can remove you from power with a vote. I hate to
suggest that, but it is always an option."

Timlin
glowered at the Grey Dwarf. "Do what you must when we get back to our
fortress--but on this journey you have no vote."

"The
priests believe it is unsafe for you to possess the stone," said Hoytus.
"They believe only a trained sorcerer can resist its power, that you could
be consumed by it. Would you ignore their wisdom and risk your very soul?"

"The
wisdom of Goblins?" said Timlin, with a laugh.

"You
speak like a Divine Knight," said Rulain, with a look of disgust, "in
showing your contempt for Goblins. Tharnin priests have wisdom beyond that of
mortals. They were chosen to be our guides. We need to respect that."

"We'll
discuss it at Old Hammer Hall," said Timlin, wanting only to get the
others to leave him be. He didn't want to listen to their advice or complaints
when his thoughts could be focused on the Black Flamestone.

"We
will
vote on it!" snarled Hoytus, and the two brothers moved away
from Timlin, their faces crimson with anger.

Timlin's
hand lingered in his cloak pocket--clutching the warm gem. He realized he never
wanted to surrender the Black Flamestone and that inevitably his desires would
clash with the demands of the Legion. He wondered if he would be forced to flee
with his prize. If so, he was fully prepared to do just that. Previously, he
would never have given up his position as the Legion Commander. But times had
changed, and he'd come to understand there were more important things in life
than leading an army or battling Dremlock--things like the flawless, beautiful
Flamestone that kept calling to him in a voice stronger even than the voice of
Tharnin.

***

 
It didn't take long for Prince Vannas to
bring down Blombalk Fortress. Once the white fire found its way into the logs,
it spread quickly everywhere and soon turned the entire fortress into a
massive, blazing fireball. Huge logs crashed to the ground as walls and
buildings collapsed.

Meanwhile,
Dremlock's warriors rode for Dorok's Hand through the melting snow. They were a
dejected group, the loss of the Black Flamestone weighing heavily on their
hearts. However, thanks to the healing arts of the White Knights, Taris Warhawk
and Flund Greenhelm seemed to be recovering from their brutal injuries and were
awake and alert in wagon sleds--though Taris remained groggy and disoriented.
The Tower Master was able to speak, and some of his memories had returned--yet
he had no recollection of clashing with the Specter.

 
When it was nearing evening of the second day
of travel, they were met with Elder Hawks from Dorok's Hand bearing grim news.
The Blood Legion had launched an attack on Dorok's Hand in their absence and
had used some type of toxic smoke to flood the fortress, driving out Dremlock's
Knights. Bearing cloth masks soaked in chemicals to protect themselves from the
smoke, a number of Legion Soldiers had fought their way into Dorok's Hand. They
had kept the entrance tunnels flooded with the foul vapor while they worked on
opening the portal to Tharnin and freeing their leader. For two days they had
held off Dremlock's forces and at last freed Vorden from the realm of the Deep
Shadow. They had taken several Knights hostage during the skirmish and were
threatening to kill them if Dremlock tried to take back the fortress.

"The
Hand of Tharnin has returned," Trenton announced. He sat on his horse on a
hillside, looking down upon Dremlock's forces. "The good news is that it
remains trapped in Dorok's Hand with only a small company of Legion Soldiers.
Furlus has chosen to wait for us to return before making a move, which is a
wise decision. Our goal is first and foremost to save the hostages."

Lannon
wasn't surprised, but he found himself disappointed with the news. No good
would likely come of Vorden's return. More death and destruction would surely
result. The other Squires looked disappointed as well--with the exception of
Jerret, who still harbored anger toward Vorden over the time Vorden had
temporarily enslaved Jerret's mind. Jerret had tried to put the incident behind
him, but he remained scarred inside from it.

"Why
aren't the Legion forces trying to fight their way out?" asked Shennen.
"With the Hand of Tharnin on their side, surely they would have a chance
of breaking through Dremlock's defenses and escaping. I'm surprised they
haven't simply killed the hostages and tried to flee."

"The
message did not make that clear," said Trenton. "My guess is that
they fear being impaled by lances. Or they may intend to make demands and use
the hostages as leverage. But one thing is certain--the Hand of Tharnin must
not be allowed to leave Dorok's Hand, hostages or not."

"Agreed,"
said Shennen.

Lannon
felt extremely restless. He sensed that somehow he must face Vorden once
again--that his former friend would demand it and would want it to be a fight
to the death. He didn't reveal his feelings to the others, though they could
tell he was anxious and commented on it.

"Are
you okay?" Aldreya asked.

Lannon
nodded. "Just worried about everything."

"As
am I," said Aldreya. "Things are going so badly for Dremlock. Bellis,
the Black Flamestone--and now the Hand of Tharnin again."

"Those
threats can be overcome," said Vannas, but he looked uncertain.

"It's
actually good that Vorden has returned," said Lothrin. "We were going
to have to deal with him sooner or later. Better to get it over with. And even
if he ends up dead, that's better than living as a slave to evil."

"I
agree," said Lannon, with a sigh. He hated the thought of Vorden dying,
but he knew he needed to accept the fact that it would be for the better.

As
they started off again, Galvia groaned and almost fell off her horse. Jerret
rode close to her and helped steady her.

"I'm
not healing well," Galvia explained.

"You're
not allowing yourself to heal," said Aldreya. "You're punishing
yourself, Galvia, and it must stop!"

Galvia's
face reddened with embarrassment, but she didn't deny Aldreya's words. She rode
with her head bowed.

"Aldreya
is right," said Jerret, his eyes wide with concern. "You should be
healed by now. Have you even been meditating on your wounds?"

Galvia
shrugged. "Some."

"It's
time to get over this," said Jerret, frustration in his voice "and
move on. You wanted to be a Squire and eventually a Knight. But you're not
acting like it."

Galvia
glanced at Jerret, then nodded. "I know. I will try to do better. When we
camp tonight, I'll focus on healing."

"Why
wait?" said Jerret. "You should get to it now."

"I'm
not in the mood for healing right now," said Galvia. "Maybe
later."

Jerret
looked away, sighing.

Daledus,
who'd been riding with his head bowed since his defeat in the duel, suddenly
came to life and fixed a smoldering gaze on Galvia. "Jerret is right.
You've moped around enough about your little failure in battle. Well, I lost
the duel for the Black Flamestone, and I have every intention of righting that
wrong and continuing to serve Dremlock as best I can. You won't hear me whining
about it."

Galvia
returned his gaze. "I'm not whining. It's just..."

"Didn't
say you were!" Daledus growled. "But you're acting like a
thin-skinned weakling and not a Squire of Dremlock. And you're certainly not
behaving like a Grey Dwarf. Is that all you're made of? Maybe you weren't
really meant to serve Dremlock."

"That's
a bit harsh, Daledus," Jerret protested.

Lannon
also thought Daledus was being too harsh with her, but he said nothing, knowing
Daledus was undoubtedly in a terrible mood.

"No,
that's not all I'm made of!" Galvia snarled back, her eyes suddenly
flashing with anger. "And I
was
meant to serve or I wouldn't be
here!" She was suddenly trembling with anger, and looked like she wanted
to knock Daledus off his horse.

"Good!"
Daledus roared. The Dwarf turned away and fell silent.

Galvia
continued to glare at him, but now she sat taller in the saddle. She still
winced with pain, but she seemed suddenly very focused.

***

The
rest of the journey back to Dorok's Hand was uneventful. Taris and Flund
continued to make steady progress, and soon Flund could speak again, the wound
in his throat fully healed. Taris still struggled with memory problems,
however, as well as problems with movement, balance, and vision, but he was
able to ride his horse and give commands. Galvia also recovered during the
journey, and her spirit seemed invigorated, the memory of her battle woes in
Elder Oak at last put behind her. She took to practicing her skills when they
made camp.