Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) (23 page)

Aldreya
bowed her head. “I am truly sorry.”

“You’re
being too hard on yourself,” said Lannon, feeling as if he should defend
her. “Since when have we lived in fear of angering the Deep Shadow? That
has never been our way. And the issue with Vannas—well, none of us saw that
coming. He must have been caught completely off guard.”

“Blame
the High Council of Dremlock,” said Daledus, “if someone must be
blamed. They’re the ones who ordered Prince Vannas to come on this mission. He
could have remained at Ollanhar instead, well defended. We cannot know why they
chose to send him, but it seems like a foolish move in light of what has
happened. They chose to risk everything to get this Green Flamestone.”

“It
was not a foolish decision,” said Jace. “The High Council knows that
the White Flamestone alone—immensely powerful though it is—is probably not
enough to defeat Bellis. It will take another Flamestone as well. This was a
necessary gamble, but obviously things have turned sour for the time
being.”

“We
can’t change what happened,” said Jerret, “so none of this talk
matters. We’re going to have to track down the prince and face whatever foes we
must face. And we need to act quickly. So who is going with me?”

“Me,
of course,” said Galvia, punching him lightly on the shoulder. The two Red
Knights exchanged a smile, eager for combat.

“I
assume most of us are going,” said Aldreya. “Dallsa will have to take
a break from assisting Bekka, as the prince might be wounded and in need of her
skills. I want to leave our Knights here and at least one Council Member to
guard the camp. That will leave the remaining Council Members alone to make the
journey. A small party—but a formidable one.”

“Is
it wise,” asked Lannon, “to leave our Knights behind? We could find
ourselves facing an army in these mountains.”

“We
need to protect the camp,” said Aldreya. “If we lose our wagons and
our goods, our mission will be much more difficult. Also, we may have to rely
on stealth to rescue the prince, and a large party makes stealth
difficult.”

Lannon
was unable to find fault with her logic.

“So
who from the Council wishes to remain?” asked Aldreya.

No
one answered. They exchanged glances.

“Then
I will choose someone,” said Aldreya. She hesitated, then pointed at
Galvia. “You are a born leader. I want you to stay and guard our camp, and
command the Knights. If something should happen to us—if we fail to return—it
will be up to you to go to Dremlock and report what happened.”

Reluctantly,
Galvia bowed.

Jerret
patted her on the back. “Sorry, Galvia. I guess you won’t be seeing any
action on this night. Can’t say I envy you.”

Galvia
shrugged, her broad face breaking into a smile. “Just make sure you kill
an extra Goblin or two for me, Jerret.”

“It
will be my honor,” said Jerret. “I’ll have some stories to tell you
over a mug or two of ale when I return.”

Galvia
leaned her war hammer against a pine tree and sighed. “I’m sure you will.
Meanwhile, I guess I’ll…tend the fire. Or something.”

“Can
you look after Taith?” asked Lannon.

“Of
course,” said Galvia. “Though it’s past his bedtime and he
will
be going to sleep soon.” She gave Taith a hard stare. “Isn’t that
right?”

“I
won’t be able to sleep,” said Taith. “Too much going on.” He
gazed up at Lannon, his eyes wide. “What if you don’t come back?”

“Fear
not,” said Lannon, winking at him. “We will return.” He
hesitated, then added, “But if for some reason we don’t, you will be taken
to Dremlock to be trained as a Squire regardless.”

Taith
folded his arms across his chest and bowed his head, looking unhappy.

Jerret
and Galvia clasped hands. “Wish me luck,” Jerret said.

She
shook her head. “You won’t need any. What about me?”

“You
won’t need any either,” he said with a chuckle, “unless the boy
proves too much for you.”

Galvia
waved dismissively. “Not a chance.”

For
an instant, Jerret hesitated, a somber look on his face. Then he said,
“Goodbye, my friend.”

Galvia
pushed him away. “Enough talk. Go fight.”

Chapter 12:

The
Trail of
Darkness and Deception

After
Lannon and the others had rode out of camp, Galvia found herself pacing about
restlessly in front of the bonfire. She was vaguely aware that Taith was
watching her. The boy was sitting on a rock, hands in his pockets, looking
gloomy. Galvia wondered why her, of all the Knights, had to be left at camp.
Surely her friends were going to find themselves engaged in brutal combat and
would need her skills to ensure victory. Recently, her abilities had reached a
new level. She had mastered her rare gift of Fire, a form of sorcery unique to
the Grey Dwarves. She was eager to put it to the test against the servants of Tharnin.

“You
look worried,” said Taith. He picked up a stick and tossed it into the
fire. A winged shadow soared across the campsite—an ugly shadow that indicated
a Goblin Vulture out on the hunt. The horses snorted and stomped. Taith
shivered.

Galvia
glared at him. “I’m not worried—just pondering things. And you should be
in bed.” She waved him away. “Go to your tent and sleep, little man.
We have a lot of riding to do tomorrow…after the others return.”

Taith
didn’t move. “I’m worried too. What if Lannon never comes back? Who will
look after me? Not Daledus, I hope.”

“Daledus
is a great warrior,” said Galvia. “Show him some respect. He may seem
harsh to you, but he would defend you with his life.”

“That
Dwarf scares me,” said Taith, “and he’s extremely loud like my
father. I’m afraid he might beat me. But Lannon isn’t like that. Lannon treats
me kindly most of the time. I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“Lannon
is a Dark Watchman,” said Galvia. “He can look after himself.”
The winged shadow passed over the campsite again, and Galvia glanced up,
catching a glimpse of a dark, hideous shape.

“What
does that mean?” asked Taith. “To be a Dark Watchman?”

Wolf
howls came from the peaks, and then more howls erupted in response from another
direction. Taith looked around fearfully. Goblin Wolves, by the sound of them.
Other noises could be heard—strange cries and shrieks. The mountains were
thoroughly infested with Goblins and other terrors.

Galvia
hesitated, wondering how to respond. She wasn’t sure she was qualified to
answer that, considering how little she knew about Lannon and his predecessors.
At last she said, “It means he’s not a normal Knight. He’s much more
powerful—more like Taris Warhawk the sorcerer. But different even than Taris.”

“Like
Kuran Darkender, maybe?” asked Taith. “I saw his statue in the
shrine. He looked very strong. Was he a Dark Watchman?”

Galvia
shook her head. “Kuran Darkender was a shield-bearing Brown Knight, which
was the first color class appointed by the Divine Essence. He was very powerful
for a Knight, but he wasn’t a Dark Watchman. Lannon has a special gift that not
even Kuran Darkender possessed—the Eye of Divinity. It makes him more of a
sorcerer than a warrior.” She wasn’t sure why she was bothering to explain
all this to a mere lad, but talking about it seemed to make her feel better and
restored her confidence that Lannon and the others would prevail.

“I
have that power too,” said Taith. “Well, I can’t make it work right
now, but maybe when I get older. I can’t wait to learn how to use it.”

Galvia
nodded. “Your time will come, Taith.”

They
sat in silence for a while, gazing at the fire. The winged shadow did not
return. The mountains seemed suddenly very quiet.

“Who
would win in a fight?” asked Taith, finally breaking the silence.
“Lannon, or Kuran Darkender? I’m betting Lannon would win.”

Galvia
laughed. It was a childish question, but one she found very interesting to
contemplate. “It is said that Kuran Darkender was nearly invincible, but
who knows? He never fought a Dark Watchman, to my knowledge. I’ve seen Lannon
fight, and I know what he is capable of.” She hesitated, not daring to
suggest that Kuran Darkender could lose—but not wanting to diminish Lannon’s
stature either. At last she simply shrugged and said, “It would be an
intriguing battle.”

“I’d
love to see that,” said Taith, “as long as it wasn’t to the death.
You look like a strong warrior too, especially for a girl. You look like you
could break me in half! I’m glad you’re here to protect me.”

Galvia
nodded. “Amongst the Grey Dwarves, many of the women are as strong as the
men. We can do everything they can do.”

“Then
where is your beard?” asked Taith. “Daledus seems to love his beard,
even though he told me some of it was burned off. He said a thick beard is very
important to a Grey Dwarf, yet you don’t have one.”

“Thankfully,”
said Galvia, rolling her eyes. “The men boast of their beards, but the
women know it is meaningless and are just fine without them. It’s all talk.
Does a beard help in combat? No, it only gets in the way.”

Taith
laughed. “You would not look good with a beard. I just pictured that in my
mind. It was not a pleasant thing to imagine.”

“I
would guess not,” said Galvia, and they shared a laugh.

“Are
your parents still alive?” asked Taith.

Galvia
nodded. “Alive, and still fairly young by Olrog standards. I just got a
letter from them two weeks ago. They are very proud of my progress. I haven’t
had a chance to write them back yet.” That last statement made her
anxious. Her father especially was waiting to hear from her, and she had so
much to tell both of them. Emotion gripped her heart, but her face remained
stony.

“Where
did you grow up?” Taith asked.

“In
a mountain city,” said Galvia. “I spent most of my youth in tunnels
and caverns. Life was very hard. All I did was work and study. Be glad you’re
not an Olrog, Taith. It’s so much easier for me at Dremlock. It wasn’t at
first, when I was a Squire, but now that I’m a Knight I have more freedom.
That’s something you can look forward to.”

“I
want to be a great warrior like Lannon,” said Taith. “I know he’ll
look after me and make sure I do my best.”

Galvia
smiled. “You’ve changed rather quickly. Not long ago you were very
obnoxious, but now I find myself enjoying your company.”

“Daledus
changed me,” said Taith, frowning. “He scares me. I never know what
he’s going to do or say. And his fists are huge.”

“Don’t
be afraid of him,” said Galvia. “Just show him respect.”

Taith
nodded, his eyes wide. “Definitely.”

Garaloth
Demonfoe, the self-appointed bard, approached them. He shivered, moving closer
to the fire. “The night grows cold, my dear friends, and we are left to
fend for ourselves against the mountains. The cold is everywhere thanks to the
Deep Shadow.” He raised his flute. “Perhaps a song would warm
us.”

“Later,”
said Galvia, not in the mood for music.

Garaloth
bowed. “No worries. I only play to entertain and when everyone is in
agreement.” A shadow darkened his face. “Perhaps I wanted a bit of
music only because the mountains seemed so quiet all of a sudden. It seems the
Goblins have all gone to sleep for the night.”

“Or
perhaps they are feasting,” said Galvia.

Garaloth
shuddered. “I would be honored to assume the first period of guard duty.
I’m wide awake, you see—still fired up from that magnificent Crimson Feast. I
still cannot believe the Divine Essence actually spoke through me!” He
shook his head in amazement. “I will always consider that my greatest
honor as a Knight, no matter what happens in the years to come.”

Galvia
smiled. “Of course. And that’s why you will be second in command here,
Garaloth. The Divine Essence must have chosen you for a reason. That will
probably earn you a promotion from the Council.”

Garaloth
bowed twice, his expression eager. “I can only hope.”

“About
the guard duty,” said Galvia. ” I want three warriors on watch all
night—at three different points around the camp. Our enemies might choose to
attack us while our numbers are diminished and Prince Vannas and Lannon are
away.”

Garaloth
glanced about, a flicker of fear in his eyes. “Ah, I didn’t think of that.
I figured we would be safe here, while the others would be the ones in peril.
But you’re definitely right about that.”

Taith
rose, his eyes wide. “We’re going to be attacked?”

Galvia
realized her mistake in speaking freely in front of the boy. “It’s a
possibility, Taith, and nothing more. But rest assured we will do everything
possible to protect you. We have many stout Knights on hand.”

Garaloth
winked at the boy. “Fear nothing, Taith, for the Divine Essence will
protect us. I shall play a song for you on my flute. If Galvia will allow
it.”

Galvia
nodded. “For Taith, then.”

Garaloth
played a soft and gentle tune—a haunting melody that made Taith close his eyes
and appear to drift off to sleep. The music merged with the crackling of the
fire, and a peaceful feeling settled over the camp, promising that it would be
a night of warmth, safety, and pleasant dreams in spite of their grim
surroundings.

Galvia
sat down with her back to a tree, her war hammer lying next to her. She closed
her eyes, letting the music relax her toward sleep. She thought of
Jerret—already missing her best friend. Time seemed to slow until it became
meaningless, drifting away like the notes in the air, until all that remained
was the timeless music that existed beyond mortal pain and fear. Convinced that
nothing would harm them, she said a prayer of thanks to the Divine Essence for
blessing her with Knighthood and then let herself drift into a peaceful
slumber.

She
fell asleep convinced all would be well.

Yet
when Galvia awoke sometime later, when the fire had died down to coals and
Taith and Garaloth were sound asleep, she realized it was all an illusion.
There was no peace or safety to be found in the Soddurn Mountains. This was a
place of terror and death, and something ugly was bound to happen here. Yet the
attack did not come from the creatures of the peaks—but from Bellis.

The
Lawkeeper and his warriors had entered the camp with their weapons
drawn—intent on bloodshed. Their faces were twisted with malice, and they
never spoke a word as they charged in for the kill.

“Flee,
Taith!” Galvia cried, to the sleeping lad—causing him to snap awake. She
rose, war hammer in hand—dread gripping her heart.

This
was a fight to the death.

***

As
the Council of Ollanhar moved higher into the mountains, the weather turned
foul. It started slowly, with the wind picking up and thunder rumbling—the
great pines swaying and creaking around them. Lightning flashed in the peaks,
and then the rain began. It started as a drizzle and soon became a raging
downpour beneath the pitch-black sky, sweeping over the riders in sheets.

The
Knights used a pair of Birlote torches to guide them. The glowing gems fastened
to silver rods were impervious to the rain, casting a crimson glow around the
party. The storm seemed sinister—a deliberate attempt by the Deep Shadow to
slow their progress. But the warriors would not be slowed, for they were
desperate to rescue the prince and the White Flamestone. The fate of Dremlock
Kingdom, Ollanhar Tower, and perhaps all the land depended upon this mission.

Lannon
hunkered down beneath his hooded cloak, the water rolling off the Birlote silk.
Like everyone else, he was concerned about the lightning—knowing that a bolt
could strike without warning and kill both rider and horse. Lannon was able to
shield himself with his sorcery, but sustaining such a shield was tiresome and
he had no idea if it could stop a lightning bolt completely. Even the Bearer of
the Eye was not necessarily safe from the wrath of the storm.

As
he guided his horse over the gnarled roots of a huge pine, Lannon paused to
gaze at the tree, which was ugly and twisted—with big knobs protruding from
the bark that looked vaguely like demonic faces. As the lightning flashed, the
face-like bulbs were revealed, leering down at Lannon and sending chills along
his spine. The Eye of Divinity showed that the tree was infested with the Deep
Shadow and filled with hatred toward the riders, craving their doom. The roots
trembled beneath the hoofs of Lannon’s horse, recoiling at the animal’s touch.

Then
another lightning flash revealed two figures standing by a boulder near the
tree—handsome men with pale skin and jaws that hung open to an unnatural
degree to reveal long, curved fangs. Like the ancient pine, these creatures
despised humans and delighted in their destruction.

Lannon
cried a warning, as the Ghouls leapt in for the kill.

One
of the creatures went for Dallsa, seizing her leg and trying to pull her off
her horse. The healer cried out in disgust and smashed the Ghoul in the head
with her steel mace, but the weapon deflected off the skull as if it had struck
stone. The Ghoul ripped the mace from Dallsa’s hand and flung it aside.

Lannon
leapt from his saddle high into the air—right over Dallsa and the Ghoul—and
landed behind the creature, sword in hand. He plunged the weapon into the
Ghoul’s back. The Ghoul hissed in displeasure and released Dallsa. Lannon
withdrew his blade, focused his energy, and tried to behead the creature. But
the Ghoul ducked the stroke and tackled Lannon, bearing him to the ground.