Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) (22 page)

“I
don’t have an answer,” said Jace. “Don’t worry about it.”

Lothrin
shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t worry about it? This is… I don’t
even know where to begin. How can I
not
worry about it?”

“The
time isn’t right, obviously,” said Jace. “Are you still a Knight?
Yes. Are you married? No. Therefore, how can you strive to produce a son? You
cannot, and so this isn’t the time to worry about it. In fact, there is no
guarantee you will even survive Knighthood to produce a son. You’re a mortal
man, Lothrin, and can only do so much. So just relax and trust your god.”

“Trust
our
god,” Lannon corrected.

Jace
shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I’m not exactly the religious
sort, mind you. I do try to serve the side of good, however—which is why I’m
here. Well, that and to earn a bit of money. Bear in mind I’m not actually a
Divine Knight anymore and don’t have to obey your Sacred Laws.” He cleared
his throat. “That aside, I’m always willing to listen to a superior
being.”

Lothrin
sighed and rubbed his forehead. “This is all so unexpected. Suddenly I
feel like I bear a great responsibility.”

“Calm
yourself, young man,” said Jace. “As I said, the time isn’t right for
such concerns. Always stay relaxed, like I do. It’s good for the body.”

But
Jace didn’t look relaxed at all. He paced about and tried to puff at his pipe
without it being lit. Confused, he glanced at the bowl, then fumbled around for
some matches. He lit the pipe, then laid it on a rock without taking a puff. He
sat down on a
 
log, his eyes filled with
contemplation over what he had witnessed.

***

The
celebration went on for a couple hours, as Knights wandered about the camp
talking and laughing or sat with their backs against boulders or pines. Some
drank a bit too much ale (in spite of being ordered not to by Aldreya) and
dozed off by the fire. They felt like they had conquered the Soddurn Mountains,
with the blazing crimson fire sending flame and spark high into the air as a
warning to the servants of Tharnin to stay away. The smell of cooked bear meat
lingered, mixed with pipe smoke and a strange, spicy scent that emanated from
the bonfire and invoked nostalgic feelings within the Knights for Dremlock
Kingdom.

But
not everyone was celebrating.

Dallsa
remained with Bekka in an attempt to heal her or at least diminish her
suffering. Dallsa was weary and sad, her energy low from working too steadily
at her task. She was in dire need of rest—barely able to stay awake as she sat
in the back of the wagon—yet Bekka was in such a grim state from the evil that
infested her body that Dallsa simply couldn’t leave her like that. No one else
could help, though Lannon had Taith bring Dallsa food and water and whatever
else she needed. Taith complained about having to serve, but he did as Lannon
commanded and was careful and thorough in his tasks.

Another
Knight wasn’t celebrating—Vorden Flameblade. He stood apart from the others
amongst the trees, once again holding his spiked shield. He bore a sullen
expression and was not inclined to speak to anyone.

At
last, Lannon approached him. The two stood in the shadows beyond the firelight
and feast—a cloaked Dark Watchman who wore no armor and a muscular Knight who
looked like an armored wall.

“What’s
wrong?” Lannon asked, though he already knew the answer. Vorden was angry
that they had ignored his advice and had chosen to celebrate.

Vorden
glared at him. His yellow eyes shone in the dark.

“You
should come back to camp,” said Lannon, “and eat something. The food
is delicious. You should try Lothrin’s fried mushrooms.”

“Why
do you sorcerers like mushrooms so much?” asked Vorden. “I don’t care
for them. I prefer meat and potatoes.”

Lannon
shrugged. “I never noticed that sorcerers in particular like mushrooms.”
He considered it, then added, “Come to think of it, though, Jace and
Aldreya both seem to love them. Hmm… I never actually used to like mushrooms
until I arrived at Dremlock. They’re one of my favorite foods these days.”

Vorden
scowled. “Count me out.”

“What
about some bear meat?” asked Lannon. “Jace cooked it. The seasoning
on it is amazing, though he won’t tell anyone what the ingredients are. He
seems to think his recipes are important secrets.”
  

Vorden
shook his head. “My stomach would not allow it, Lannon. I know everyone is
enjoying themselves—and maybe they should, considering what we’re facing on
this mission. But I can’t be part of it. Not here. This place sickens me. These
mountains are so infested with the Deep Shadow it seems to smother me. I feel
short of breath, actually.”

“I
can’t say I know what you’re feeling,” said Lannon. “But I do sense
the presence of Tharnin here, and it is ugly. I’m guessing that slumber will
bring about some nasty dreams.”

“It’s
not just that,” said Vorden. “These mountains remind me of who I once
was. The evil deeds of my past seem so fresh in my mind tonight. I still can’t
believe or accept the fact that I brought so much suffering to the land. Don’t
bother telling me it wasn’t my fault, that the Hand of Tharnin was using me. I
still feel like a weakling for failing to free myself from it.”

“Yet
you are a Divine Knight,” said Lannon. “That says everything. If the
High Council had believed you were even slightly responsible, you would have
been thrown out of the Order. Obviously, Taris and the others have great faith
in you. You still bear the scars of the Deep Shadow and yet you have earned the
trust of the other Knights. That’s nothing short of astonishing.”

“Save
your praise, Lannon,” said Vorden. “It’s not going to help. Timlin is
dead because of me, his soul tainted by Tharnin. I wonder if he can even find
peace, or if he is cursed as a restless spirit like the Dark Watchmen.”

“But
it wasn’t you who killed Timlin,” Lannon pointed out. “I’m the one
who has to live with that burden. I wanted to save him, but I failed.”

Vorden
shook his head. “Timlin was already hopelessly lost when you slew him, all
thanks to me. I took control of his mind and set him on the path of doom. You
only did what you had to do.”

“No,”
said Lannon. “Timlin burned the Red Candle at Dremlock. He made a choice
to seek out the Blood Legion, before the Hand of Tharnin had any influence over
him. He chose his own fate.”

Vorden
looked away. “Regardless, the darkness here will torture me every step of
the way. There is nothing to be done about it.”

 
Lannon patted him on the back. “Come and
have some food.” With that, he returned to camp, feeling frustrated that
he couldn’t help Vorden. Vorden’s scars ran deeper than Lannon could
comprehend.

***

Lannon
arrived at the bonfire to find Lothrin upset. The Ranger had noticed that
Prince Vannas was missing, and the festive mood had turned grim. They searched
for the prince briefly and then decided he must have intentionally wandered off
again. With the White Flamestone to guide Vannas, the others were not overly
concerned. It seemed to be the will of the Divine Essence that Vannas leave
camp from time to time to meditate on his abilities.

Yet
Lothrin remained agitated, as he spoke with Lannon and Aldreya. “What if
he was abducted by servants of Tharnin?” he asked. “Maybe our Crimson
Feast is the reason he is gone. Or perhaps the Lawkeeper and his warriors took
him, and the White Flamestone now belongs to Bellis.”

“Doubtful,”
Aldreya replied, “considering what happened last time. It would be foolish
for us to wander around in these mountains in the endless fog, when he probably
will return to camp on his own soon enough.”

“I
agree,” said Lannon. “We need to give him time.”

“Yet
I have a terrible feeling of dread,” said Lothrin. “It’s like a voice
is whispering in my mind that Prince Vannas is in great peril.”

“It
could be the Deep Shadow,” said Aldreya, “seeking to trick us.
Perhaps it wants to lure us away from camp.”

“Or
it could simply be my instincts,” said Lothrin. “Lannon, why don’t
you at least lead a small party into the fog and search for his trail?”

“It
isn’t necessary,” said Aldreya. “We already know he is prone to
leaving without warning. The wise response is to wait.”

“Then
I will go myself,” said Lothrin. He adjusted his bow and quiver of arrows.
“I will attempt to track him down.”

“It
would be very difficult,” said Lannon, “with the dense fog. Even for
a Ranger like you. You could get lost, and there might be more of those ghouls
wandering about. I don’t want you to end up like Bekka.”

Lothrin
nodded. “Nevertheless, I will go…and risk the life of my future son if
need be. My cousin needs me.”

“No,”
said Aldreya. “I order you to remain in camp.”

Lothrin
fixed a pleading gaze on Lannon. “As a friend, I’m asking you to lead a
search party. Just until you find his trail. Then we will return. If anything
evil took him, you should be able to sense it.”

Lothrin
seemed thoroughly convinced that something bad had happened to Prince Vannas.
Lannon decided he shouldn’t ignore the Ranger’s instincts. “Very
well,” he said. “I suppose we can do a brief search and make sure he
left the camp alone. It’s a good idea, actually.”

“Be
careful out there,” said Aldreya.

Lannon
and Lothrin were joined by Jace, who also was worried about Prince Vannas. The
three left camp and wandered off amongst the pines and boulders. Lannon probed
the fog, and at last he located Vannas’ trail.

The
prince had left camp alone.

“There
you have it,” said Lannon. “Once again he simply wandered off. I
guess all we can do is return to camp and await his return.”

Lothrin
nodded, but still looked doubtful.

“Follow
the trail, Lannon,” said Jace. “I want to see where it leads.”

They
went a bit further, and then Lannon caught a glimpse of something
horrific—traces of a monstrous evil like nothing Lannon had ever encountered.
Dark sorcery lingered like a poisonous fog before Lannon, and instead of one
trail belonging to the prince leading into the mountains, there were now two
trails—Vannas and the source of the evil magic.

“Your
face has gone pale, Lannon,” said Jace. “What do you see?”

“What
has become of my cousin?” asked Lothrin, seizing Lannon’s cloak.

“We
have a huge problem,” said Lannon, his heart sinking.

***

“It
should never have come to this,” said Aldreya, who stood with the others
at the center of camp. The bonfire had died down some and was no longer
crimson. The celebration was over, but instead of Knights slipping into their
tents to sleep under warm quits, they stood in the chill air with gloom in
their hearts, wondering if they were a bunch of fools.

Everyone
wondered if this was the end of Prince Vannas and Dremlock’s possession of the
White Flamestone. If so, they would lose their primary weapon against Bellis
Kingdom.

“What
were we thinking?” said Aldreya, her voice filled with disgust. “Why
did we let Prince Vannas leave camp alone? I have no answer—except that
perhaps we have been too sure of ourselves lately. Perhaps we have been
arrogant and not fit to represent Ollanhar. Now our prince has fallen into the
grasp of evil, and the White Flamestone has gone to our enemies.”

“Yet
what could we do?” said Lannon. “It seems the Divine Essence wanted
the prince to wander alone—or at least it inspired him to do so. Also, once again
no one saw him leave, so how could we have stopped him?”

“I
don’t understand,” said Lothrin. “Why would our god lead him astray
and put him in such danger? It seems terribly foolish.”

“The
prince was likely in a trance,” said Jace. “The White Flamestone led
him from camp, and we could not have prevented it. Under normal circumstances,
Vannas would have been perfectly safe. But there is evil in these mountains
that can challenge even the power of a god. The Divine Essence did not send
Vannas into the hands of that evil. The prince went because he was compelled to
go, regardless of the risks. This is sorcery at work, my friends, and sorcery
cannot always be easily understood or controlled. No one is to blame for
this.”

But
Aldreya looked dismayed. “No, I will take the blame. I made two dire
mistakes this evening. I should not have allowed the Crimson Feast to proceed,
and I should have ordered a Divine Shield be placed around the prince. Now I
have jeopardized everything—the very future of our land.”

“I
sensed something like this was going to happen,” said Vorden, sounding
bitter. “We enraged the Deep Shadow, and now we will have to go to war
with it. These mountains torture my soul, reminding me constantly of what I
endured when I was a slave to the Hand of Tharnin. All I wanted was to get
through them as swiftly as possible—yet now we must journey into the darkest
reaches of the Soddurn Mountains and make bloody war on our foes.”