Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity (22 page)

Lannon shook the vision away, feeling strangely empty. The Eye seemed to be leaping about too quickly, revealing the truths behind truths, teaching him things he wasn't ready for. He didn't want to know such things, for he felt unworthy. Why should he, of all people, be shown such knowledge? And was it even trustworthy? Perhaps the Eye was showing only possibilities, speculation. Or perhaps that's just what he hoped. He realized he would have to learn to control the Eye better, or it might eventually put a strain on his sanity.

Lannon focused on the Temple door. It bore a stout lock, but nothing Timlin couldn't handle. Lannon nodded to the little fellow, then stepped aside and let him go to work. It took Timlin several moments, but at last he got it unlocked.

"I don't want to go in by myself," said Timlin. "I know that was our plan--to have me check the place over--but I guess I'm still thinking about what happened before. Let's all go in there together."

"You don't have to," Aldreya said gently. "I'll go with you." She glared at the others. "Even if they won't."

"Don't worry about it, Timlin," said Lannon, feeling guilty beneath Aldreya's stare. "I wouldn't want to go in alone, either, even though this is a good place--not like the mines. We'll all go in."

Lannon was growing weary of receiving so much knowledge so quickly, and as he stepped inside, he drew the Eye partially within himself. There would be time for studying the true nature of things when he felt ready. The Eye was a powerful force, and already it had awakened deep fears within him. Perhaps the Divine Essence could help him understand it better.

They closed the door behind them, leaving it unlocked in case they needed a swift exit, and hurried down the short hallway, which still smelled of incense even though none was lit. The door at the end bore no lock. Lannon pulled it open and started through. Glancing back, he saw that Jerret hadn't moved.

"I don't think I can do this," Jerret said, looking grim. "It feels wrong. This is the Temple of the Divine Essence. What right have I to sneak in here?"

Lannon searched his own feelings. Surprisingly, he felt no guilt now that he had reached the Temple. He could feel the Divine Essence somewhere below. It wanted him to come here, to break the Laws.

"It's okay," said Lannon. "You can wait here if you want to."

"What?" said Vorden, with a disgusted look. "Come on, Jerret. Don't be a fool. You risked a lot to come here, and now you're going to turn away at the last moment? If you ask me, that's just plain stupid."

Jerret swallowed. "I just... Alright, Vorden, let's keep moving." Still looking grim, and a bit sheepish as he glanced at Aldreya, the Red Squire started forward.

They entered the sanctuary and hurried up the steps to the altar. The torchlight fell on it, revealing the runes of the Sacred Text.

"I guess we should push on it or something," said Lannon.

Vorden snickered. "Use the Eye, Lannon."

"Oh, that's right," said Lannon, his face reddening. He let the Eye extend out and probe the altar. At first a jumble of thoughts ran through his mind, revealing tiny glimpses of religion and worship throughout the ages, but Lannon ignored that fragmented knowledge and focused on finding the hidden entrance. He saw that the top of the altar simply lifted off, with a stairway leading down underneath. Lannon explained it to the others.

"We can't lift that," said Timlin. "It's solid stone. We need Clayith."

"We can do it," said Vorden. "Right, Jerret?"

"Sure," Jerret said reluctantly.

The four Squires grabbed the edges of the stone slab and strained to lift it. Putting forth a tremendous struggle, they still couldn't manage it. Months of rigorous strength training still had not given them enough power to move the great slab.

"Forgetting someone?" said Aldreya.

"It won't make any difference," said Vorden. "It's too heavy."

She placed her hands on the slab and concentrated. Her lips muttered silent words. The stone slab shuddered and shifted, suddenly filled with energy. "Lift it," she said, her voice strained.

The Squires pulled with all their might, but it wasn't necessary. The slab had grown much lighter, and they lifted it off the altar with ease and sat it aside.

Aldreya wiped sweat from her forehead and smiled. "Well, that drained me quite a bit. But I'll be okay. Let's get going, then."

A stone stairway descended from the very top of the altar down into the darkness. A dank, musty smell arose from below--a cold and wet smell.

Lannon suddenly felt afraid. Was he expected to go first? He drew the Eye back into him a ways, dreading what it might show him.

Vorden smiled at Lannon and leapt up onto the stairs. He started down, as if he needed no torchlight to find his way.

Lannon and the others quickly followed.

At the bottom of the stairs were two doors of Glaetherin--one on the right and one on the left, with a wheel lock at the center of each. Lannon let the Eye probe the door on the right, peering beyond it into the passage. He glimpsed a powerful force up ahead, though from this distance he couldn't make out anything about it except that it was not an evil power. Beyond the left door, he sensed something dark and powerful--and quite evil--that he didn't dwell on for more than an instant.

"We should go right," he said, his body trembling.

Vorden nodded. "Whatever you say, Lannon. Lead the way."

Lannon focused the Eye on the wheel lock, and it took him only a moment to solve it. Then the door stood open.

Jerret gasped in amazement. "Lannon, how did you do that? Those things are supposed to be impossible to solve."

"He does that all the time," said Aldreya, shaking her head. "Don't bother asking, because apparently he likes to keep it to himself."

Lannon felt a surge of pride, but could think of nothing to say for a moment. At last he shrugged and said, "I guess I just have the gift."

Lannon suddenly began to feel ill and weary. His stomach felt heavy. It seemed the Eye had been out too long and had revealed too much. He needed a break from it. Having accomplished this major task in solving the wheel lock, he drew the Eye all the way into himself, and the halves of his mind merged into one.

As the Squires started through the doorway, a noise behind them made them jump. Someone was coming down the steps--heavy footsteps and panting. They froze in horror, not even able to ready their weapons, while the figure descended.

"Hey!" a familiar voice called out. "Don't forget about me."

A tall, burly form stepped into the torchlight. It was Clayith Ironback.

The others breathed sighs of relief.

"You scared the wits out of us!" whispered Jerret. "But I'm glad to see you. How did you find this place in the storm?"

Clayith shrugged. "I just got lucky, I suppose." His skin was pale, his hair and eyebrows frosted with snow and ice. He licked his lips. "It wasn't so bad, you know. Just follow the east wind, like winter's breath..."

"What?" said Jerret. "Are you alright? You look like a snowman."

Clayith laughed. "No, I'm just fine. Hey, that purple thing's up ahead, you know. We should go deal with it." He cleared his throat, looking confused.

"Purple thing?" said Lannon. "Oh, you mean the Divine Essence. Right, let's get going. I think we're past the hard part now."

They passed through the doorway and found themselves moving down a short hallway. The hallway ended at a trapdoor, which bore a huge iron padlock.

"It's all yours, Timlin," said Lannon.

Timlin knelt down, and a moment later the lock was open. "I'm getting faster," he said, grinning, while the others looked on in admiration.

Vorden lifted the trap door, revealing an iron ladder that stretched down beyond the torchlight. The sound of running water came from below.

The ladder looked sturdy, and they immediately started down, with Vorden in the lead. They descended about thirty feet and ended up in a round stone chamber. Four tunnels lad away from the chamber, but three of them had been sealed permanently with solid barriers of Glaetherin that bore no locks. Flowing through the middle of the cavern was a little stream that came out of a hole in one wall and disappeared through a hole in the opposite wall. The chamber, and the stream, looked like natural formations.

"I guess we've got one choice," said Vorden.

His heart pounding with anxiety and growing excitement, Lannon hurried towards the open cavern. As they passed along it, they could see shards of multi-colored crystal protruding from the rock.

"We're getting close!" Lannon breathed excitedly.

"Ugly things!" muttered Clayith. "Those crystals hurt my head."

The others heard him, but paid little heed. They were bent on seeing the Divine Essence and nothing could distract them. The cavern curved up ahead, and the crystals became the walls, replacing the stone. The Squires could feel optimism building in their minds. As the light of truth fell upon them, they felt like anything was possible, that all would work out for a greater purpose. Behind them, Clayith began to whimper.

As they rounded the curve, the light became radiant, and then before them, in the chamber of fantastically colored crystal, stood the three purple Flamestones that made up the Mind of the White Guardian. Tall, pointy gems rising from a flat base, they were narrow at the bottom and widened out at the top. They were spaced unevenly apart, forming a triangle. The gems were rugged, a bit misshapen--far from the perfection the Squires had been imagining. Yet the Divine Essence was revealed at last, and the Squires were swept away with emotions, bathed in a wondrous glow of truth. Vorden and Timlin stood transfixed, while Jerret dropped to his knees.

"The King of Dremlock!" Aldreya breathed. Then she knelt next to Jerret.

Instantly Lannon's mind split of its own accord, and the Eye of Divinity came forth--as if being pulled out of him. It surged straight into the Divine Essence. It showed him things about the Essence that astounded him. Despite everything the Knights of Dremlock seemed to believe, this was not some all-knowing god. This was a lonely child with an uncertain future, a child partially destroyed yet still clinging to life. It was a lone candle burning in the darkness, struggling to give hope, yet threatened from all sides by the swarming shadows.

Lannon was overcome with a desire to help this child, to make it whole again and allow it to grow. But that was beyond his power. The White Guardian was no more--just shattered fragments that still pulsed with life.

Lannon was deeply saddened, and in his despair, the Eye of Divinity drew back inside him. Yet even as it retracted it revealed images, and he glimpsed a dark danger just behind him. Someone else in this chamber, like the Essence, was lonely and suffering--a puppet controlled by rage and hatred. In his mind he saw the poison blade slice the air towards his back, but he saw it too late to take action.

Lannon screamed as the cold steel pierced his shoulder. His body went numb and his legs gave out. He collapsed, but for a moment he remained coherent and was able to lift his head long enough to glimpse what was happening around him. He heard shouts, and he saw Vorden leap across the floor towards Clayith. Clayith was holding a black dagger, and his eyes gleamed with insanity. Vorden's axe bore down upon the burly Squire. Then Lannon's mind went black.

Chapter 12:
 
Squires on Trial

When Lannon awoke, he was lying on a bed in a huge rectangular room. The room was lined with beds, and had much greenery in it, with tall plants in the corners and flowered vines growing on the walls and twined around some of the bedposts. A stone fountain stood at the center of the chamber, with statues of tiny, mythical Fairy Goblins in dancing poses around the water flow. Some of the beds were occupied by wounded Knights, who were being tended to by White Knights. Lannon recognized none of the wounded by name, but he had seen a few of them before.

Standing over Lannon was Vesselin Hopebringer, the ancient Lord of the White Knights. Firelight gave a red tint to his flowing silver hair and beard as he leaned forward with his gnarled hand clutching one of the bedposts. Vesselin smiled. "It is good that you have awakened, Lannon. I was very concerned. Yet it appears that you shall fully recover."

Recent memories flooded Lannon's mind, and he groaned, wondering where he was and how much time had passed. His throat felt as dry as dust, the flesh feeling ready to crack apart. He couldn't feel any pain his shoulder where Clayith's blade had struck, but he couldn't bring himself to probe the injury to see if it was healed. He simply waited for Vesselin to explain things.

"You went through a horrible ordeal, young one," said Vesselin. "I shall try to answer any questions you might have."

Lannon tried to speak, but nothing came out. He pointed to his throat. "I need some water," he managed to croak.

Vesselin called to one of the healers, who brought a mug of water to Lannon. The boy slurped it down, spilling much of it on his chest. When he could manage to talk, he blurted out, "Where are my friends?"

"They're all fine," said Vesselin. "Except for Clayith Ironback, who unfortunately is dead."

Lannon sighed and looked away. Clayith was dead, and Vorden had slain him. Lannon had seen it with his own eyes.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Two nights. But we need not speak of these things right now, if you wish. You can get more rest before we talk."

"Tell me everything. I need to know what happened."

"Very well." Vesselin lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Clayith Ironback was possessed by the Deep Shadow. He was being controlled by someone unknown to us. He attempted to murder you with a poison dagger. It was a deadly poison, needing only to prick your skin to bring instant death. In fact, the dagger wound was quite shallow, as just the tip managed to pierce your armor. But that's all that was needed. We believe Clayith learned how to concoct this poison after studying one of the books in the East Tower Library--a book which has since been removed. After Clayith attacked you, your friend Vorden Flameblade slew Clayith, which is understandable but very unfortunate, because we might have been able to free his mind and learn who his master was. Yet it is too late to dwell on such things. We must now look to the future."

"How did I survive?" Lannon asked.

"We believe the Divine Essence saved you," said Vesselin. "It cast a healing light upon you that neutralized the poison. Yet you remained unconscious, leading us to fear that too much damage had been done for even the Divine Essence to heal."

"It saved me?" Lannon whispered in awe.

"Yes, it did," said Vesselin. "You know there is something different about you. You know the Knights have special plans for you, that the fate Dremlock may depend upon the Eye of Divinity. The fact that the Divine Essence brought you back from certain death confirms that your gift is of great importance, I believe."

"What happened after that?" said Lannon.

"Two of your friends waited in the Temple with you, while Vorden Flameblade and Jerret Dragonsbane went out seeking help. The boys got lost and nearly froze to death in the woods. Finally they made it to the North Tower and reported what had happened. We expected to find you dead."

Lannon didn't know what to say, and so he stayed silent.

"You Squires brought much trouble upon yourselves," said Vesselin. "The High Council is up in arms. A trial has been set for tomorrow evening, to determine the fate of you and your friends."

Lannon grimaced. "You mean...we could be banished?"

Vesselin nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, yes. This is a very serious matter. Not even the East and West Tower Masters are permitted to see the Divine Essence. Only a Lord Knight is allowed to do so. The Scriptures clearly state that."

Lannon closed his eyes, his thoughts twisting like a whirlpool. How had this all happened? Was it his fault? He thought of Clayith, and to his horror, he realized the lad might have been specifically targeting him.

"Why did he try to kill me?" Lannon asked.

Vesselin's face was grim. "That's a good question, Lannon. Perhaps he was just striking out at someone randomly."

Lannon searched Vesselin's face. "But you don't believe that, do you?"

"No, I do not."

Lannon glanced about nervously. "Then am I in any danger?"

"You will be watched closely from this point on. Always someone will look after you, though you may be unaware of their presence. Yet I would advise using all the knowledge you have learned--your skills as a Blue Squire and the Eye of Divinity. Trust no one fully--not even those who seemingly have earned your trust--and keep your eyes open. Be alert for signs, Lannon. That's the only advice I can give."

His heart racing, Lannon gave a quick nod.

"We made a grave mistake," said Vesselin. "We should have watched you from the start. We felt secure in the knowledge that no Squire can access the truly forbidden areas. We didn't count on you using the Eye of Divinity to solve the wheel locks. Yet there are other reasons you should have been looked after more closely, and I think what happened last night has opened our eyes to that. But as far as the trial goes, the High Council is made up of several stubborn men, who may not take into account your importance to the kingdom when deciding your fate."

Vesselin sighed. "This all should have been handled very differently, right from the moment you first entered Dremlock. We brought this trouble upon ourselves."

Lannon said nothing, knowing Vesselin was wrong. It was Lannon's fault this had occurred, for without use of the Eye, the journey below the Temple would never have taken place--and Clayith might still be alive.

"I must leave you now," said Vesselin. "I'll be back later on to check on your progress. Until then, try to get some rest."

Vesselin left the Hall. Lannon closed his eyes, knowing he could not simply rest as Vesselin had suggested. Far too much was on his mind. But after a while, he did begin to doze a bit, and he knew he was still suffering the after effects of the poison, which felt like hands trying to drag him back down into the blackness.

Lannon heard soft footsteps approaching and snapped awake. Garrin Daggerblood stood before him, a disappointed look on his face.

"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused, Master Garrin," Lannon said. "It won't ever happen again." His words sounded weak and pitiful.

"You should have come to me," said Garrin. "You should have told me you had unlocked the Eye of Divinity. I would have helped you. Now I fear you are beyond my help. I am not part of the High Council, and my words shall go unheeded. I feel betrayed by you, Lannon Sunshield. I expected better of you." With that, the Blue Knight turned and walked away.

"Wait!" Lannon called out, but Garrin left the hall without looking back.

Lannon closed his eyes, almost wishing he had died down there instead of Clayith. Clayith's mind had been possessed by darkness. What was Lannon's excuse? He had knowingly violated the Sacred Laws, and his dreams of being a great Knight were crumbling apart. He sighed, longing for home, for as unhappy his old life had been, it seemed preferable to this in some ways.

From that point on, Lannon lay awake all day long and late into the night, deeply troubled, wishing he had someone to talk to about his anxieties. He avoided thinking of his father, for such thoughts were like daggers of pain in his heart.
 
If Lannon were cast out of Dremlock, what would Doanan think of him? How could he ever go home and face his father? Also, he felt partially responsible for Clayith's death.

Lannon turned his thoughts towards the Divine Essence, but no help existed there. The Essence, in spite of its great power, was a scared and lonely child, not a god that could answer prayers and change the future. A deep emptiness swelled within Lannon--the realization that things might indeed be hopeless. Dremlock was in grave danger, and it appeared no one could stop it. If the rumors were true, not many Knights were left to defend the kingdom, and Goblins were on the move. He had believed the Divine Essence would give him answers, but instead it had left him feeling that all hope was lost.

***

The next day, Lannon remained in the Hall of Healing, bored and anxious, hoping someone of importance would come along to speak to him. But no one did--not even Vesselin Hopebringer. Yet he noted that White Knights were always watching him from close by, and he was not allowed to leave the Hall, or even his bed, most of the time. The day crept by very slowly towards the trial that would decide his fate.

Trenton Shadowbane, the Investigator, at last came to escort him to the trial. He entered the Hall and approached Lannon with a grim look on his face, while taking quick puffs of a small wooden pipe. "The trial is set to begin," he said, "so hurry up now. We can't keep the Council waiting. Your things are under the bed."

Lannon grabbed his pack and donned his winter cloak, but noticed that his weapons and armor were missing. He never went anywhere without his armor and sword these days, and he felt naked without them. He glanced questioningly at Trenton.

"Where is my sword and armor?"

"You are a possible threat to this kingdom," Trenton said, frowning. "Your weapons will be returned to you if you are found innocent." He smiled--a predatory grin that showed perfect teeth. "But if found guilty, you won't be needing them anyway, of course."

Lannon nodded, gazing at the floor. "Where are my friends?"

"I escorted them to the North Tower earlier," said Trenton. "They are in Dremlock Hall, where all trials are conducted. Now let us be off."

Lannon followed Trenton from the Hall of Healing. It was another cold day, with a grey sky from which sprinkled snow. The path to the North Tower had been shoveled out after the blizzard, leaving snow banks taller than Lannon on either side. The Investigator made great strides as his boots crunched along the path, puffs of smoke from his lips blowing a sweet tobacco scent back towards Lannon, who had to struggle to keep pace with him. The lad was shaking from the cold and his anxieties as he stumbled along, and he was weary from lack of sleep. His stomach felt like he'd swallowed a lump of lead. Lannon could not see the Temple, which lay upon the opposite side of the North Tower, and he was glad of that. He had no desire to look upon it this day.

"You and your friends have caused quite a turmoil," said Trenton. "Some Council members are calling for your heads...not literally, of course. Well, actually, maybe some are being literal, but that's not my point. You need to be punished, and punished severely. Dremlock doesn't need this foolishness right now!"

Lannon kept silent, knowing if he said the wrong thing, it could make his position worse--if that were possible.

But Trenton would not let it be. He stopped and turned towards Lannon. "Don't think you're going to get away with this, boy. Tell me, what motivates you, Lannon Sunshield? Do you like things as they are?" His grey eyes shone with accusation as he glared at Lannon. He reminded Lannon very much of a wolf studying its prey, and out of sheer nervousness, Lannon was forced to speak.

"I regret what I did," he said.

The grey eyes narrowed. "How pathetic, child. You lack conviction in your words.
 
There can only be one fate for the likes of you."

Lannon sighed, already knowing what Trenton's vote would be. If there were more people like this Investigator on the High Council, his career at Dremlock was definitely finished.

"I get your point," Lannon said, losing his temper. "You don't like me. But there is no use in beating me over the head with it!"

Trenton raised his eyebrows. "It has nothing to do with my personal feelings toward you. The Sacred Laws must always be obeyed!"

Trenton started walking again at an even faster pace. Lannon had to practically run to keep up. The North Tower was nearly the width of the East and West towers combined, and at least thirty feet taller than either, with six balconies encircling it. The black and silver Crest of Dremlock was emblazoned upon a giant flag that stood atop the peak. Six Red Knights, heavily armed, stood guard atop stone steps that led up to a towering iron door. They didn't move a muscle as the two approached, and their bearded faces were stern. They were part of the elite force of Knights that would defend the North Tower to their last breaths.