Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows (2 page)

"Thank
you," said the Tower Master. "Now let's get right to business."
He pointed at the dead Jackal and said, "Dark sorcery infests this beast.
An exceptionally nasty sort that could give you trouble."

Lannon
glanced at the Goblin, his heart lurching. The Jackal's face was covered in a
dark cloth, but its spotted, muscular body was exposed in the torchlight, its
arms hanging down and its long claws touching the floor. It seemed that using
the Eye of Divinity was always perilous. "What kind of trouble?"

"We
don't know," said Furlus, raising his drooping eyebrows. The bulky Dwarf
was leaning on his battle axe, and his dark-grey beard--which was as broad as
his chest when flowing free--was set into four braids in honor of the Olrog
holiday called Rune Winter. His broad, weathered face didn't show much concern.
"Probably nothing you can't handle, though it might give you a
scare."

Jace
patted Lannon on the back. As usual, the towering sorcerer was dressed in a
flowing purple cloak and smoking a pipe. "Don't be too alarmed, Lannon.
It's undoubtedly nothing dangerous, but it might be rather unpleasant. Just keep
a calm head and be prepared." At nearly two-hundred years old, Jace looked
like a man in his early thirties. His curly black hair held not a hint of grey
and his face was smooth and youthful. Jace was a giant--standing nearly seven
feet tall with broad shoulders and bony hands that seemed like shovels.

Again,
Lannon glanced at the dead beast, wondering what sort of
unpleasant
sorcery still lingered inside the Jackal. In a way, the beast was still
alive--charged with foul magic.

Lannon
turned the Eye of Divinity's gaze on the creature. At first he merely saw a
shell empty of life or spirit. But he realized the shell wasn't entirely empty,
for some hideous darkness squirmed within it.

"I
see something," Lannon said, "like...writhing shadows."

"We
need you to peer into that evil sorcery," said Taris, "to learn
everything you can about it. Do not be hesitant."

Lannon did as Taris requested, sending the Eye deep into
the squirming mass of dark sorcery. He could almost glimpse what it was all
about--some dreadful purpose nearly revealed--but the answer eluded him. It
seemed to shift constantly beneath his gaze, always promising but never quite
delivering. He chased after it in frustration as the moments passed by and the
others watched in silence, until he began to grow weary and thought he must
surely give up.

"Do not surrender!" said Taris, in a commanding
tone. "No one else can do this task."

Somewhere amidst the haze of elusive shadows, Lannon began
to feel something calling to him. He glanced at the dark cloth that covered the
Jackal's face, the strange pull coming from beneath it. Lannon was certain the
secret lay beneath that cloth. With a trembling hand, he reached for it.

Furlus seized his arm. "No, Squire. You won't like
what you see."

"I have to," said Lannon.

 
With a shrug,
Furlus released him and stepped back.

Lannon trembled as he gazed at the dark cloth. He knew he
could never learn the truth until he removed the shroud. The people around him
seemed to fade into the shadows, leaving him alone with his task. He was
chilled at the prospect of what he might find when he lifted away the cloth.

But Lannon was honor bound to put aside his fear and learn
why two young Knights were dead. Whoever, or whatever, had killed them had
dispatched this beast in the same fashion. If Lannon surrendered to his fear,
more Knights could turn up dead. His hand feeling numb, he touched the edge of
the cloth. A cold shudder passed through him. For several moments he held that
pose, fighting his internal battle against fear while he gazed at the dark
outline of the face from which the evil sorcery was radiating so potently.

At last he shored up his will and Eye of Divinity
responded, engulfing him like armor. Lannon seized the cloth and tore it
away--to find himself gazing at a shockingly pale face with two crimson eyes,
the beast's closed muzzle stained with blood. There was something deeply
unsettling about that face, and Lannon was overwhelmed by the urge to cover it
again.

In that instant, the slain Jackal's muzzle parted to reveal
crooked fangs and its claws shot up and locked onto Lannon's throat. With a
cry, Lannon tore away from its grasp and reeled back, as his vision went black
for a moment.

When Lannon's vision returned, the dark cloth still covered
the Jackal's face. Lannon had never actually removed it, but had fallen victim
to an illusion that the Eye had failed to see through. He told the others what
had happened.

"A foul trick of the sorcery," said Taris.
"It seems the answer is buried too deeply for even the Eye of Divinity to
discover."

Jace looked troubled as he smoked his pipe. "Power
that turns away even the mighty Eye. Just what manner of assassin are we
dealing with?"

"I suppose the only way we'll know," said Taris,
"is to hunt him down. Meanwhile, let this fallen monster be laid to rest
with a proper burial."

"We
should summon the other Squires," said Furlus. "Any of them could be
targets. The Divine Shield must be assembled immediately."

Taris
fixed his gaze on Lannon. "Our spies have informed us that your old friend
Timlin Woodmaster is now the leader of the Blood Legion. We believe he is
determined to launch an attack on this fortress in the near future. This
assassin--as powerful as he seems to be--may simply be an attempt to distract
us."

A
shaft of pain pierced Lannon's heart at the mention of Timlin, but his resolve
did not crumble. "I'm still hoping he will surrender."

Taris
sighed. "Young Squire, you still don't understand the ways of this world.
The Deep Shadow will never surrender its hold on Timlin now--just as Vorden is
forever lost to it. You should harden your heart in preparation, for Timlin is
now our greatest enemy and marked for death by Dremlock."

"Marked
for death?" said Lannon, though the statement needed no explanation.
Lannon's stomach churned at the thought.

"What
that means," said Shennen, stepping close to Lannon, "is that Timlin
is on the assassination list of the Blue Knights. As a traitor to Dremlock and
someone corrupted by Tharnin, his death would be a blessing upon this
land." Shennen's eyes were cold, holding a glint of grim purpose in the
dim, flickering torchlight.

"I
can't give up on my friend," said Lannon.

"He's
not our friend anymore, Lannon," said Jerret, his head bowed. "He
hates us now, just like Vorden does. We have to accept that."

"Jerret
speaks true," said Taris. "Timlin would kill you in an instant,
Lannon, if he had the chance. He is no better than a savage Goblin now. Tenneth
Bard is dead and Vorden is gone from our world. While Timlin is still here
physically, he is just as lost as they are. Face up to that fact."

"I
can't do that," said Lannon.

"I
know," said Taris, giving Lannon's shoulder a squeeze. "You have a
noble heart. I admire that quality. But there comes a time when you must begin
to think and act like a Knight--and make the harsh choices. Knights are not
coddled. A Knight must stand alone, even with his fellow Knights at his side.
Do you know what the means, to stand alone? Your duties come before friendship.
Timlin is our sworn enemy, and your duty is to view him as such."

Lannon
felt cold inside. He felt the Knights were too demanding of Squires, shoving
them into battle and leaving them to sort out their thoughts alone. Taris had
given Lannon much guidance, but ultimately, Lannon felt alone most of the time,
left to suffer in silence and work out his troubles on his own. He knew it was
expected and demanded of him. It was the way of Dremlock to build total
self-reliance while providing only what guidance was absolutely necessary. But
Lannon wasn't fond of it nonetheless. Dremlock could quickly and easily turn
its back on a traitor like Timlin and expect Lannon to do the same, while
offering him no wisdom or comfort for making such a harsh decision. Duty was
all that mattered.

"Timlin's
heart is completely lost to darkness," said Furlus. The Grey Dwarf's
bearded face showed a hint of sadness. "When I looked into that lad's
eyes, before the gates of Dorok's Hand, I saw only pure evil."

"And
that is why Timlin is doomed," said Shennen, in a tone of voice that
chilled Lannon to the bone. "The Blue Knights will not accept failure in
this matter. Yet we only mark for death those who have become the most vile
creations of Tharnin, those who would never surrender anyway."

Lannon
glanced at Jace for hope, and Jace winked at Lannon. "Who knows what the
future has in store?"

Lannon
nodded, cheered up a bit by Jace's optimism. Jace seemed able to affect
Lannon's mood with ease--almost as if he were using some form of sorcery on the
lad. Lannon didn't know what Jace was capable of, because the giant was somehow
shielded completely from the Eye of Divinity. Lannon still didn't fully trust
Jace, but the Knights--with the exception of Trenton Shadowbane, the
cantankerous Investigator of Dremlock--seemed to trust him enough. Regardless,
Lannon was once again grateful for Jace's presence.

"Don't
give the boy false hope, Jace," said Shennen, glaring at the sorcerer.
"It will only make this worse for him."

Jace
blew a shaky smoke ring and frowned at it. It was such a terrible smoke ring
that he batted it into ruin with a huge hand. "No false hope, just
reality. The future is unknown to us."

"It
troubles me," said Taris, "that a former Squire is marked for death,
but Timlin was spawned by the Hand of Tharnin--a weapon so evil and unstable
that even the Tharnin Lords have condemned its use. He is the last link to that
bitter device. Yet Timlin is aware of our Sacred Laws. If he chose to come to
us and surrender, we would be forced to spare his life and lock him in a
dungeon. But he will never do that. He will resist to the bitter end."

Lannon
knew they were right, but he still couldn't bring himself to accept it. Timlin
was purely evil--a monster in armor infested with the Deep Shadow. Timlin would
seek to bring death and suffering to the Divine Knights and the people of
Silverland. Even his own Blood Legion feared and despised him, in spite of
being forced to obey his commands.

"For
now, my friends," said Taris, "we need to find this assassin and
capture him alive, if possible, so we can learn why Timlin sent him and
anything else he might know of the Blood Legion's plans."

"I
have a request, Taris," said Shennen. He hesitated, looking uncertain.
"I would like to spend some time alone with Lannon, as I have need of his
skills. I want him to examine the bones of the Dragon. I know this may not be a
good time, but my research is very important."

Taris
stood in silence for a moment. At last, he nodded. "I will allow it, but
take care of your business quickly. After that, I want Lannon and his friends
under constant guard. And take Jace with you."

Shennen's
expression soured. "Jace? But why?"

Taris
gazed at the Blue Knight sternly. "Jace's vast knowledge may prove helpful
to your research. Also, I'm not an expert concerning Dragon bones, but I'm
guessing this could be a dangerous task. I want Jace to see to Lannon's
safety."

Jace
bowed. "I shall do my best."

"Are
you saying I cannot protect the lad?" asked Shennen.

"Of
course not," said Taris. "But two guards are better than one. In
fact, have Thrake accompany you as well."

Shennen
grimaced. "Why not just send half the Knights in Dorok's Hand, then, if
you're so worried about Lannon's safety?"

Taris
said nothing. He simply gazed at Shennen from under his hood, his green eyes
shining in the torchlight.

Shennen
lowered his gaze. "I meant no disrespect. It shall be done."

Taris
turned away and didn't see Shennen's scowl.

Lannon
wanted only to return to his chamber and rest. He certainly didn't want any
part of that Dragon's remains. And Shennen seemed to be behaving a bit
strangely, and his face looked very pale. Lannon wondered if the Blue Knight
had spent too much time with those charred bones and had somehow been affected
by whatever dark sorcery lingered within them.

Chapter
2:
 
Knight and Dragon

Shennen
led Lannon, Jace, and Thrake along a few dark tunnels and then down some steps
to a small chamber where the Dragon bones jutted up from a long, narrow stone
table. A pair of torches in iron holders, from which cobwebs dangled, lighted
the room. Mushrooms that stood more than two-feet tall, with purple and yellow
caps, grew in troughs in the corners, and shelves were lined with books and
strange, metal instruments. The room had a charred, damp smell, and the air
felt clammy and made Lannon's flesh crawl.

Thrake
stood guard outside the door, while Jace stayed by Lannon' side, his pipe smoke
drifting past the boy's head. Lannon gazed at the bones in dread, memories of
the carnage the Dragon had inflicted on its foes flashing through his mind. He
was filled with revulsion and wanted to leave the chamber, but he held his
ground, waiting for Shennen's instructions.

 
An intense aura of gloom and fear filled the
room, radiating from the worm-like layout of charred bones. Yet Shennen's face,
bathed in crimson from the torchlight, bore a broad grin as he stood before the
bones.

"Amazing,
aren't they?" said Shennen, running his hand over what appeared to be a
long, curved rib bone. "The key to Tharnin."

 
Jace frowned and adjusted his cloak, looking
uncomfortable, sweat on his brow. "Yes, they are extraordinary. And
apparently still quite active."

Shennen's
breath rushed out in a sigh. "So many secrets to be discovered, Lannon, in
the bones of a Great Dragon. I would never have imagined such remains would end
up in my possession...in the possession of Dremlock."

Lannon
nodded, but did not share Shennen's enthusiasm. While Lannon understood that
unlocking the secrets of Tharnin was essential to winning the war against the
Deep Shadow, this somehow seemed very wrong.

The
bones were laid out with great care. They were badly charred with pieces burned
away, but enough of the beast's huge skull remained to chill Lannon's soul. The
eye sockets were dark and empty, the purple, hypnotic orbs that had seemed to
hold endless depth burned away, but the Dragon's terrible will still seemed to
emanate from them. Fangs jutted down from a long snout that seemed to be split
open in a malicious grin. Lannon was certain life still lingered there, that
the Dragon was still plotting Dremlock's downfall. His immediate thought was
that the bones should be buried deep in the earth, far from sight and mind.

"I'll
give my opinion," said Jace, "though no one has asked for it. I think
it's too bad the White Fire didn't burn these bones completely to ash. From
what I can sense, they are extremely dangerous."

"I
felt that way at first," said Shennen. "It's a natural response. But
the more I've studied these remains, the more I've come to realize what a
wonderful gift we have here. And Taris and Furlus fully support this
research."

"But
this research could destroy us all," said Jace. "This is a Great
Dragon of Tharnin--a beast of all beasts and one that is supposed to be
immortal. Its death alone is an abomination of sorts. While its flesh has been
stripped away, its real life force--the power of the Deep Shadow--has not
diminished. These bones are cursed beyond hope and should be buried."

Shennen
glared at the huge sorcerer. "Don't be so dramatic, Jace. And I didn't
come here to listen to your protests, but to make use of Lannon's sight. So if
there is nothing else, we shall get on with this task."

Shennen's
words reached Lannon's ears, but they seemed to come from far away. Lannon's
gaze was bound to the Dragon's skull, to those empty eye sockets. He vaguely
realized he'd taken a few steps toward the skull. The Eye of Divinity had
awakened and was pulling Lannon toward the bones. The Eye seemed to be acting
with its own will. He could hear Shennen and Jace arguing in the background but
couldn't make out what they were saying.

 
The moments seemed to drag by slowly, as
Lannon found himself waiting for something important to be revealed. Surely the
Eye was leading him to some worthy destination. He found his fear was now
dulled, as the Eye fortified his mind against the effects of the dark sorcery.
He suddenly felt so comfortable and sure of himself that it bordered on
arrogant. He felt certain he could do what Shennen wished and probe all of the
Dragon's secrets with ease.

Lannon
reached toward the skull, and the chamber around him disappeared
completely--lost in a thick fog that glowed with a blue light. The smell of
fresh, damp air filled Lannon's nostrils and a light rain seemed to be falling
on him--though he couldn't actually see the raindrops.

A
mass of darkness writhed in the Dragon's mouth, and Lannon recoiled from it.
The darkness slipped from between the jaws and took form in front of Lannon,
revealing a man-shaped figure of shifting shadows and eyes of violet that
smoldered with insanity--
Tenneth Bard.

"You
can't be real!" Lannon said, raising his hands defensively. "I killed
you!" But he doubted his own words.

"Yet
you know the truth," said Tenneth Bard. "Your eyes betray you. I live
as the Dragon lives, bound forever to its will. Knight and Dragon are forever
one. You have just made a dreadful mistake, young Squire of Dremlock!"

The
mass of shifting shadows lunged forward and a clawed hand seized Lannon's
throat, while the violet eyes burned into him and tried to crush his will.
Tenneth Bard's strength seemed endless--merged with the power of the Dragon.
Lannon fought back fiercely with the Eye of Divinity, but slowly he was driven
to his knees.

"Just
relax and surrender to it," whispered Tenneth Bard. "There is no need
to fight. Your death will be swift and easy."

The
hands were tightening on Lannon's throat, choking off his breath, as Tenneth
Bard continued to urge him to give in. Soon Lannon would go to sleep forever.
He almost accepted it as his fate.

But
Lannon surprised himself, as his survival instinct suddenly flared to life and
broke the spell of Tenneth Bard's whispers. His will to live returned tenfold,
becoming a panic. He lashed out with the Eye of Divinity, tearing the Black
Knight's hand from his throat and shoving the mass of shadows away.

Moments
later, the fog disappeared along with Tenneth Bard, and Lannon was back in the
chamber. He was trembling from head to toe.

"What
happened to you?" said Jace. "You froze and would not respond to
us."

 
Lannon told what he'd experienced.

But
Shennen dismissed it. "A mere illusion, Lannon. You were only dreaming.
Tenneth Bard is undoubtedly dead--killed by your own hand. And even if he
somehow survived such a devastating attack, he could not emerge from the bones
of the beast as you described. What you encountered was the Dragon's will,
playing a trick on your mind. It sensed your deepest fears and reacted."

"It
felt very real," said Lannon. "I thought I was going to die. I had to
fight for my life."

"You
simply used the Eye to break the illusion," said Shennen. "Remember
the dead Jackal you examined earlier? You thought you were attacked then as
well, but Taris told you it was a trick. This was no different."

"Yet
an illusion can be dangerous," said Jace. "I believe Lannon should
avoid this task until he better understands what he's dealing with."

Shennen's
face darkened with anger. "You've reached this conclusion so quickly,
because of a simple illusion? I have studied these bones extensively, and my
finding is that it is perfectly safe for Lannon to proceed."

"I
was ordered to protect Lannon," said Jace, with a shrug. "Therefore,
I cannot allow him to continue this research."

"You're
exceeding your authority," said Shennen. "I will not take orders from
a failed Knight who is only here because he is being paid!"

Jace
shrugged. "Take it up with Taris. My feeling is that these Dragon remains
are radiating too much evil sorcery for a young man like Lannon to cope with.
However, I understand the importance of your research, Shennen, and I'm willing
to assist you if you will accept my help."

Shennen
scowled. "Jace the Wanderer, always trying to make everything his
business. It grows tiresome. Nevertheless, I like you, Jace. I'm not Trenton.
But you're beginning to annoy me. I guess I will indeed speak to Taris about
this, and the issue shall soon be resolved."

"Good,"
said Jace, puffing his pipe. "That is all I ask."

Shennen
scowled. "I know that Taris doesn't fully trust the Blue Knights,
especially after what happened with Garrin Daggerblood. It's a shame, but I
suppose it's just the way of things."

Shennen
was clutching one of the Dragon's charred rib bones, his knuckles white in the
torchlight. A strange shadow seemed to have fallen over his face, making him
look more sinister and devilish than usual. Knight and Dragon seemed bound
together somehow by invisible strands--inseparable. Lannon shuddered, wanting
Shennen to let go of that rib bone.

Jace's
eyes widened. "You look different, Shennen. What has happened to you?
Perhaps we should speak to Taris right now!"

But
then Shennen stepped away from the bones. He appeared normal again, aside from
his pale skin. "Relax, my friend. I have allowed my impatience to anger
me, and you have allowed your fears of Tharnin to get the best of you. However,
you are correct in that we have to be very careful in dealing with these
remains. We will consult with Taris in due time, but for now, let us concern
ourselves with the assassin and see to it that Lannon and his friends are well
protected."

Jace
hesitated, then nodded. "Agreed." But Jace's eyes were filled with
doubt and conflict. He held his pipe loosely in one hand, as if he'd forgotten
about it. This was the first time Lannon had ever seen the sorcerer appear
truly afraid.

***

When
Lannon returned to his bedchamber, he told the other Squires of his latest
encounter with Tenneth Bard (or the illusion that had been impersonating the
Black Knight, if that was the case). Aldreya Silverhawk, whose knowledge of
sorcery far exceeded that of the other Squires, dismissed the incident as a
trick of the Deep Shadow. But Lannon still wasn't convinced. It had seemed too
vivid to be a mere illusion. In fact, his throat still felt sore from being
choked.

"And
you fear that Shennen is possessed by Tharnin," said Aldreya, giving
Lannon a piercing stare as she ran a brush through her curly silver hair. They
were sitting across from each other on beds in Lannon's room. Jerret and Prince
Vannas, Lannon's roommates, were also present. A single lantern on a small
table between the beds lighted the chamber. The cold of the mountain hung in
the air and they shivered beneath their fur cloaks.

Lannon
nodded. "And I think Jace feels the same."

"This
proves nothing," said Aldreya. "Shennen is always very focused on
anything he does, to the point of getting angry if someone interferes. It's
just his way. It doesn't mean he has been corrupted by the Deep Shadow. You
should have some sort of proof before you say such a thing."

Lannon
knew Aldreya spoke true, but he couldn't help what he was feeling. "I'm
not accusing Shennen of anything yet."

"This
whole fortress seems corrupted by the Deep Shadow," said Jerret, as he
paced the room. "I can't wait to get back to Dremlock. It's always dark
and freezing cold in here. Maybe if I was a Dwarf I'd find it more
appealing."

"I
don't believe it, Lannon," said Prince Vannas, a flash of anger in his
green eyes. Unlike the others, Vannas wasn't wearing a simple fur cloak.
Instead, he wore a thick, fur-lined blue robe with gold trim, and his long,
silver hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing his pointed ears. He held
a leather-bound book of Birlote poetry in one hand. "Shennen has a noble
heart and a great deal of wisdom. I don't know what you saw or felt, my friend,
but you were mistaken."

Aldreya
nodded to her cousin, who sat next to her. "I couldn't agree more. Shennen
is so careful in everything he does. It just doesn't seem possible. Some
Knights are simply beyond the reach of Tharnin."

Jerret
placed his hand on Aldreya's shoulder. "Anything can happen, my dear. You
should know that by now. And as much as we respect Shennen, if he has fallen
victim to the Deep Shadow's charms, we're all in great danger. We'll have to
report this to the High Council and watch him closely."

Aldreya
shrugged off Jerret's hand and rose, the copper-colored skin of her face
turning crimson with anger. "Shennen is not a puppet of Tharnin. I know
that for a fact!"

"How
can we know anything for a fact?" said Jerret, shrugging his broad
shoulders. "Just because Shennen is a Birlote like you doesn't mean
he..." Jerret let his words trail off as Aldreya gave him a death stare.

Aldreya
sat down again, her face troubled. As Aldreya matured, she was also growing
more sullen and stubborn. Lannon noticed that in spite of her beauty and kind
heart, she rarely smiled these days. She'd come to Dremlock with visions of
advancing as far as her considerable skills would take her in a shining and
noble kingdom. But the relentless darkness of Tharnin had clearly sapped the
joy from her heart. Now she was just another desperate and hunted Squire hiding
in a cold mountain fortress. Aldreya had once seemed almost snobbish, but her
ego appeared to have shrunk and she treated everyone equally. Lannon liked her
better now, finding her far easier to relate to, but he wished she seemed a bit
happier.