Knights: Book 02 - The Hand of Tharnin (8 page)

As they worked their way down the long, steep, muddy slope of a hill, Taris suddenly toppled from his horse. Ordering the company to halt and hold position, Thrake Wolfaxe--the second in command--leapt down from the saddle and knelt by the sorcerer. Thrake tried to lift Taris, but Taris pushed his hands away. The sorcerer's eyes smoldered with anger and frustration.

"I can stand on my own," Taris insisted, trying to rise.

"Let Thrake help you," Lannon said, stunned at what he saw.

"Yes, let him help you," Aldreya said, her eyes wide.

"I'm fine," Taris said. "I just need a moment. My mind... It grew weak and clouded. I gave in." At last, he struggled up from the ground and managed to climb back onto his horse. He seemed to be gasping for breath in the saddle.

 
Lannon hated to see the Tower Master in such a feeble condition. "Maybe you should return to Dremlock, Master Taris."

"No!" Taris interrupted, his devilish face twisted with disgust at the thought. "I will press on, and I will be fine. And none of you shall speak of what you saw. If word gets around that a Tower Master fell off his horse..." His face turned crimson with shame.

"We should call this off," said Thrake. "A Knight is dead, a Knight has returned to Dremlock bearing the body, and we are weakened and weary. This was a foolish venture to begin with. Riding out into seemingly endless ambush with only a small company of Knights..."

Taris nodded. "Perhaps, but I will give Lannon the choice. He is the one who must partake in the duel. What say you, Lannon?"

Lannon sighed, wishing the burden was not his to bear. If he decided to continue, more Knights--or even some of his friends--could die. But if he didn't continue, they would not gain possession of the demon man's gauntlet, and Taris could not be cured. Lannon feared for Taris' life.

"I don't know," said Lannon, shrugging helplessly.

"You must make a firm decision," said Taris.

"I say we press on," said Vorden. The dark-haired lad seemed eager for combat, his hand locked in a fierce grip around the hilt of his bizarre spider sword.

"I agree," said Timlin. "I want to kill more Goblins!"

"It's your decision, Lannon," said Aldreya. She gazed at Taris with fear in her eyes. "But maybe we should turn back."

"I think we've had enough," said Jerret, who looked terrified. "This seems to be an ill-fated quest."

"I'm all for turning back," said Thrake. "What about you, Jace?"

"I think we should continue on," said Jace, "if Taris thinks he can endure it. We came this far. The ruins of Serenlock are near."

"You have heard the others," said Taris, "and myself. Now, Lannon, what is
your
decision? You alone will bear the responsibility."

Lannon felt a twinge of anger. Why was Taris placing such a huge burden on a mere Squire? "I guess we'll keep going for now," said Lannon. "We're almost there. And I guess it's our duty to see it through."

Taris gazed at him sternly. "Then you're prepared to fight this duel?"

Lannon nodded, wondering if he'd lost his wits.

"Then we ride for Serenlock," said Taris.

"Maybe not," Jace said casually. "We might not have to go there." Jace pointed at a nearby hill. A dark figure stood atop it, watching them. "My eyesight isn't the greatest, but I do believe that is our demon fellow."

Taris squinted. "Yes, it is him! Ride!"

With that, the Tower Master rode off through the wet grass. The others followed, the Greywinds leaping over rocks and bleached logs that were barely visible in the tall grass. The figure on the hilltop stood motionless, but once the company started up the hill, the figure turned and fled.

When they reached the top, they found themselves gazing down into a valley of dead pines, ash, and hardened lava--called a Fire Reach. Through the center of the dead forest, winding like a crimson snake, was a swirling river of lava that never cooled. Rain hissed as it landed in the river, causing jets of steam to rise. What kept the lava in molten form was not known, but such eternally smoldering rivers were unique to Silverland. The demon man stood by the crimson river below, motioning to them with his gauntlet-covered hand. The two blue, glowing crystals in the glove beckoned them with a cold light.

"A Fire Reach!" said Thrake. "Very dangerous. This is a region sacred to Tharnin. It is certain to contain a well-guarded shrine."

"We ride on," Taris insisted, starting down the hill.

When the company reached the blackened river bank, the demon man had already fled deeper into the dead forest. Lannon had never been in an area as strange as the Fire Reach. It had the same holy feel as the Temple of Dremlock--but it also had a sinister and evil aura. This seemed to be a place of profound suffering and sacrifice. The huge dead pines were like charred bones rising from the lava-encrusted earth. The horses' iron shoes made loud clopping noises on the hard, black forest floor. Unsure of which way to go, they simply followed Taris along the river. In spite of the cool rain, the heat from the molten lava made them sweat.

At last they spotted a shrine through the trees. It was an arch with a pillar on either side--and it seemed to be made of hardened lava. The pillars and arch were lumpy with the shapes of skulls and bones. Also on each pillar was a large, demonic face. At the base of the shine were urns filled with ash.

Standing below the arch was the demon man, flanked by two Goblin Lords. The Goblin Lords held dark, twisted staffs, and crimson runes were painted on their foreheads. These were Priests of Tharnin--extremely powerful and intelligent Goblins who commanded sorcery. Their black eyes were filled with evil. The demon man still wore no shirt, and his bare chest was marked with ash runes. His gaunt face and bony ribs made him look half starved. He'd shaved his head bald, but had left a few crude patches of hair in the process.

"Welcome!" said the demon man. "I grew a bit impatient and decided to meet you here." He grinned at Lannon. "Are you ready for the duel?"

Lannon nodded, struggling to hide the terror he was feeling. This area made him feel weak, like an intruder in a sacred realm who must surely be destroyed. He felt like he was committing a grave wrong by being there.

"The Goblins must stand aside," said Taris. "If they try to interfere, my archers will make quick work of them."

"They tend this shrine," said the demon man. "They have no interest in interfering. We are the intruders here. These urns contain the ashes of those who have died fighting for the Lords of Tharnin. In this case, members of the Blood Legion who sacrificed themselves. Fallen Knights. Dremlock considers itself a holy kingdom, but it's really a fortress of despair built around a feeble creature that calls itself a god. Real gods dwell in the Realm of Tharnin."

"We didn't come here to be lectured," said Taris, "especially by a slave like you. We came for the duel."

The demon man laughed. "Well, this slave scarred your face and left you a weak, sickened man. Does that enrage you, Birlote? Have you come to see me destroyed, so you will have revenge?"

Taris didn't reply, though his face twitched.

A hint of a smile appeared on Jace's lips. The demon man glanced toward Jace and hissed. "What amuses you, Knight?"

"I'm not a Knight," said Jace. "And I'm amused by your weak personality. You remind me of a simple Goblin--like your priests there. The gauntlet you wear--this Hand of Tharnin--is an awkward fit for you. I'm convinced it could not have chosen a weaker host."

"You speak nonsense," said the demon man. "How dare you mock me? I'll kill you for that insult!"

"Listen to yourself," said Jace, with a chuckle. "You're not capable of intelligent conversation. You might as well just hiss like a snake. The gauntlet has failed miserably to enhance you and would probably just as soon be free of you. And that's precisely why Lannon will defeat you."

Lannon wasn't sure if it was wise for Jace to enrage the demon man, but he suspected Jace had some strategy in mind.

"Send the priests away," said Taris. "Then the duel can begin."

"Of course," said the demon man, waving them away. "As I said, they will not interfere unless the shrine is threatened."

The priests moved off amongst the trees, but stood watching. The archers trained their arrows on them.

Lannon glanced at Taris for instructions, but Taris simply motioned him toward the demon man. Slowly, Lannon dismounted and approached him, until the two foes stood about five feet apart in the rain. The demon man held up his gauntlet, so the two blue stones were facing Lannon. The light that the stones emitted was cold, but the air suddenly felt warped with heat. The Eye of Divinity revealed that the Fire Reach was an appropriate name, for the soil and air were infested with a fiery type of dark sorcery. These flames of evil were drawn into the gauntlet, enhancing its power. The demon man's face displayed a leer of supreme confidence--like the hideous faces sculpted on the pillars of the shrine.

The rain hissed as it made contact with the demon man, steam rising from his flesh. The air grew so hot the others--save for Taris--moved back a bit, protecting their faces. Lannon used the Eye of Divinity like a shield against the heat. Flames rose from the blackened earth, and the shrine pillars grew red hot.

"So this is where it ends," said the demon man. "You should never have been brought to Dremlock. You are not even a grown man yet. I hate to have to slay a child. It is rather unbecoming of a warrior like me. But I am left with no choice. The Knights, however, are to blame for your death."

Lannon said nothing, struggling to stay focused and block out the raging heat. He had no idea how Taris was able to withstand it, but the sorcerer sat rigidly in the saddle, stone dagger in hand. The scarred region of Taris' face seemed darkened by shadow, with his left eye gleaming yellow.

The demon man licked his lips. "The Eye of Divinity versus The Hand of Tharnin. What a grand duel that would be, were you not a pathetic and unskilled lad who was never fit to be a Knight to begin with."

Lannon realized the demon man might be trying to tire him, as Lannon had to keep protecting himself from the heat. The demon man undoubtedly expected Lannon to keep listening to his boasts and wait for him to make the first move.

"Your death will very painful," the demon man went on. "You will be roasted alive. Before all is said and done--"

Lannon seized him with Eye of Divinity, squeezing with all his might. He hoped to catch the demon man off guard and simply crush him--and be done with the whole affair. He hated the thought of killing a man (even a man as vile as this) but he was desperate to end the duel quickly. And for an instant he thought he was succeeding brilliantly. The demon man's eyes sprang open wide and his flesh gave way beneath the power of the Eye. But then the blue stones in the gauntlet shone brighter, and the Eye was pushed back.

The demon man snarled in rage and the heat grew more intense. Lannon thought his clothes and hair might burst into flames. The metal glove turned red hot, with the blue stones contrasting it. Slowly, the demon man began to move toward Lannon, the gauntlet turning and the fingers opening like claws. The smell of scorching iron was strong in Lannon's nostrils.

Lannon fought back fiercely, but his panic began to disrupt his focus. He could only watch in horror as the fingers reached for his throat. Then the Eye seemed to strengthen, and he shoved the demon man away.

With a snarl, the demon man lifted a rock with the gauntlet and flung it at Jace. The projectile nearly caught Jace off guard, but he ducked at the last instant and it missed his head by inches.

"The duel is broken!" Taris cried.

The demon man charged at Lannon, but again the Squire seized him with the Eye and froze him, while intense heat again threatened to overcome Lannon. And then a dark blade hurtled past Lannon and stuck in the demon man's shoulder--Vorden's spider sword, thrown like a spear. With a howl, the demon man staggered, clutching at the weapon. The flames and heat died down.

Weakened, Lannon fell to one knee. Taris jumped from his horse and attacked the demon man with his burning dagger, but the demon man knocked the weapon aside with his gauntlet and shoved Taris into a tree. The sorcerer fell to the ground and lay still, clutching his head with both hands.

The demon man hurled Vorden's sword aside, and then three arrows from the archers struck him--but the arrows glanced off an invisible shield. Hissing in fury, the demon man hurled a fireball from his gauntlet at the archers, scattering them. Timlin rode off to one side, preparing to shoot, and the demon man turned to face him. Timlin fired two arrows with astounding speed, but both were deflected as if they were simply annoying twigs.

Then Jace leapt from his horse and charged the demon man. When the demon man glimpsed the fact that Jace was unarmed, he sneered in contempt, not bothering to guard himself. Jace smashed his hand down on the fellow's head. The demon man stared at Jace, looking dazed. Jace smashed him twice more on the skull, and this time the demon man's eyes rolled back. He grabbed Jace with the gauntlet and hurled the huge man onto some rocks.

Thrake charged the demon man from horseback, slamming his smoldering axe down for the kill. But the demon man smashed the powerful axe aside with his gauntlet, causing an explosion of fire and sparks, and Thrake was thrown from his horse. The Red Knight landed with a clatter of armor.

The demon man turned back toward Lannon, deflecting more arrows and flame from Aldreya's dagger. But he couldn't seem to focus. He staggered, his eyes still showing their whites from the blows Jace had inflicted.

Lannon managed to regain some of his strength, and once again he seized the demon man with the Eye of Divinity. This time he squeezed the man's throat--and found little resistance. He easily choked the man until he was unconscious, and then quickly released him, hoping he hadn't killed him. But the Eye revealed that Lannon's foe was alive and not critically wounded.

Groaning, Jace rose from the rocks and rolled the demon man over. "Vorden, fetch the coil of Birlote rope from my horse."