Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1) (24 page)

Meanwhile,
the other Ghoul had gone for Jerret, knocking him from his horse and ending up
on top of the Red Knight, choking him. Aldreya hurled a fireball at it and missed,
the burning orb exploding against the huge pine and making the tree shudder.
The Ghoul sought to crush Jerret’s throat as it grinned, drool dripping from
its gleaming fangs.

With
a grunt, Jerret shoved the creature off and rose, flaming broadsword in hand.
As the Ghoul leapt toward him again, reaching for him with fingers bent like
claws, Jerret cut off its arm. The Ghoul seized Jerret’s sword with its
remaining hand, but the flames that engulfed the weapon were burning so hot
that it screeched in agony and let go.

With
a sneer and a brutal swing, Jerret beheaded his foe.

Lannon
froze his adversary and shoved the Ghoul away—sending it hurtling into a tree
with a cracking of bone and wood. An instant later an arrow from Lothrin’s bow
lodged in the creature’s forehead. But the Ghoul tore the arrow away and
started forward again.

Lannon
rose, a cloaked shadow in the raging storm, and as the Ghoul staggered toward
him in a daze, its fingers reaching for his neck, he darted forward as swift as
the wind and cut off its head.

But
two more Ghouls had leapt from behind boulders and entered the fray—one of
them charging at Aldreya and the other pulling Jace from his horse.

The
Ghoul that attacked Aldreya didn’t fare too well, as she calmly hurled a green
fireball from her stone dagger and struck it in the face. The Ghoul’s head
exploded into glowing fragments that landed like stones pelting the earth and
trees. The headless body took a couple of steps and then toppled over.

Jace
rolled around on the ground, trying to dislodge his Ghoul before it could find
his throat with its fangs. Jerret and Lannon rushed over to assist him, but
they couldn’t get a clear swing at the creature. At last Jace managed to shove
it away, and the sorcerer rose, hands raised for battle.

But
before the Ghoul could charge Jace, Lannon and Jerret both impaled it with
their swords from behind, driving it to its knees. Then Jace leapt in for the
kill, slamming his fist down on the creature’s forehead—a shattering blow that
left the Ghoul instantly limp in death, the dark sorcery that animated it
fleeing from the body like a foul mist.

Jace
motioned to Lannon. “Cut off its head so it cannot live again.” He
spoke loudly to be heard over the storm—almost yelling.

Lannon
did as Jace wished.

The
sorcerer groaned, rubbing his shoulder. “Very powerful foes—and I fear
just a small sample of what is to come. What a wretched place this is!”
The rain quickly washed the dirt and pine needles from his hair and cloak.

They
climbed back onto their horses.

Daledus
frowned. “Well that happened rather quickly. I didn’t even get a chance to
join in.” His axe was still strapped to his back.

 
Dallsa shuddered, glancing fearfully toward
the trees and boulders. “How many of these things are lurking about?”

“Who
knows?” Aldreya replied. “The mountains could be crawling with them.
They remind me of the Stonemen of Old Hill Forest.”

“They
are very much like the Stonemen,” Lannon agreed, remembering his encounter
with the zombies that had pursued him so relentlessly.

“Such
horrible monsters,” said Dallsa. “It sickens me what was done to
Bekka—the pain and loss that she is enduring because of a single bite. I could
sense her feelings—that her very soul was devoured and she is now empty. It is
just a bitter illusion, but she doesn’t yet know that. I wish they were all
dead.”

“You
may get your wish,” said Jerret. “We may have to kill all of them to
regain possession of the White Flamestone.”

“Yet
it wasn’t a Ghoul that took Prince Vannas,” said Lannon. “It was
something much more powerful—perhaps whatever spawned these Ghouls. I’m
guessing a Barloak Demon, like the one I encountered in Old Hill Forest. If
that’s the case, we will have a rough time of it. I’m not sure we can
win.”

“Without
the Flamestone,” said Aldreya, “it won’t be easy. But what choice do
we have?” She looked doubtful. “Yes, we must continue on.”

“And
what of my cousin?” said Lothrin, pain in his eyes. “He must surely
be dead by now. There would be no reason for our enemies to keep him alive.
Surely they would view him as a threat and eliminate him quickly.”

“Don’t
underestimate the White Flamestone,” said Jace. “Vannas has grown
more powerful and will not be easy to kill—not even for a Barloak Demon. That
gives us a slim hope that we can save him.”

“I
don’t understand,” said Lothrin. “He is still a flesh-and-blood
mortal. If he was ambushed, how could the Flamestone protect him?”

“Sorcerers
are difficult to kill,” said Jace. “Our bodies change over time from
the magic we wield. We toughen up a bit.”

“My
cousin is not a sorcerer,” said Lothrin.

“I
beg to differ,” said Jace. “A sorcerer is one who uses sorcery on a
frequent basis. I believe our good prince fits that definition.”

They
fell silent, the effort too great of having to yell their words to be heard above
the storm. Lightning split the air close to them, striking a towering pine and
catching it on fire. The pine blazed like a torch, burning branches falling to
the ground. The riders halted, uncertain if they should attempt to continue on.

But
at last Aldreya motioned them forward.

Lannon
lost sight of Prince Vannas’ trail. It simply vanished—along with that of
whatever creature of Tharnin had been accompanying him. Lannon paused, scouring
the terrain in an effort to locate it again, as the others waited with bowed
heads in the lashing rain. Finally Lannon gave up.

“It
just ends,” he said, his voice filled with frustration. “I don’t
understand it. It’s like the two of them just vanished from existence.”

“Perhaps
sorcery was used to cover the trail,” said Jace. “Perhaps the Eye is
confused. Do you sense anything unusual?”

Lannon
shook his head. “If sorcery is confusing my sight, it’s so clever that I
can’t even glimpse it. I must truly be blinded by it.”

“We
will continue on,” said Aldreya, “and see if you can pick up the
trail again. It could just be a temporary issue.”

They
went a bit further and then Lothrin called out to the others in a frantic tone.
“Prince Vannas is nearby!” he yelled, pointing toward a rocky wall
that was just barely visible through the trees. “I caught a glimpse of him
running in that direction. Hurry, we must catch him before he escapes!”

“Are
you sure it was him?” asked Aldreya, looking skeptical.

“I
glimpsed his cloak,” said Lothrin.

“Why
would the prince run from us?” said Vorden. “This could be a trick of
the Deep Shadow to slow us—or lure us into a trap.”

“I
agree,” said Aldreya. “Our enemy is clever.”

Lannon
scanned the ground where Lothrin had pointed. “I sense the presence of
evil sorcery, but it’s not whatever I sensed before. This is weaker—possibly
one of those Ghouls. But there are no traces of the prince.”

“It
was definitely my cousin’s cloak,” said Lothrin, “though I couldn’t
tell if it was him wearing it. But even if it wasn’t him, maybe he is being
held prisoner somewhere nearby. We must find him!”

Lannon
led the way, following the trail of dark sorcery that wound between the pines
and boulders. Soon they came to a cave in the mountainside. The cave mouth
looked hungry, waiting to devour anyone who dared enter. It was a natural
cavern, but one that was choked with the Deep Shadow and made almost alive from
it. Even the stone walls hated these Knights and wanted them dead. Lannon was
unable to see very far into the tunnel, but he could sense whispered warnings
of doom from the darkness, demanding the Knights turn back.

Lightning
struck in the cliffs overhead—so bright that for an instant it was like
daylight. The swaying pines cracked from the roaring wind.

“The
trail leads into this ugly cave,” Lannon called out. “If the prince
is in there somewhere, I cannot glimpse him.”

“This
could indeed be a trap,” said Jace. “Probably is. On the other hand,
this is the best lead we have right now. I suppose…we should take our chances
in there.” He gazed at the cave doubtfully.

They
dismounted, unable to take their horses into the narrow entrance. With their
Birlote torches to guide them, they entered the cave. They were glad to be
sheltered from the raging storm—even if it had to be in a smelly, evil tunnel
that seemed to close in around them menacingly. The sounds of the storm faded
as they made their way along the tunnel. They moved slowly, watching for
danger.

Lothrin
motioned for them to pick up the pace. He held one of the two Birlote torches
and was in the lead. “We must hurry!”

“No,”
said Aldreya, seizing his tunic. “If we go too fast, we will certainly end
up blundering into a trap. You must calm yourself.”

Lothrin
pulled away from her. “But they’re going to kill him!”

“Hand
over your torch,” Aldreya commanded.

But
Lothrin ignored her and raced off through the cave. They heard him splash into
water ahead. “I’ve found a cold, shallow lake,” he called back.
“There is solid rock beneath it. The cave is aglow with strange
lights.”

The
tunnel opened into a wide cavern where the lake sat. The Knights entered the
icy water, which came up to their knees. Green crystals glowed in the walls and
ceiling, giving them a glimpse of how large the cavern was. It was at least
three-hundred feet wide with the ceiling looming about twenty feet above them.
A strange smell hung in the air that almost reminded them of salt water mixed
with some ancient spice. It was an unpleasant smell that brought to mind things
cold and fishy. The air in the chamber was clammy and seemed to cling to their skin.
The Deep Shadow emanated strongly from the lake—an invisible fog that engulfed
the Knights and whispered of hopelessness and despair.

 
Lannon avoided gazing at the unpleasant water
and instead found himself mesmerized by the green crystals in the walls and
ceiling. He studied them carefully with the Eye and discovered they held traces
of energy similar to that which infested living things. The crystals were
alive, but unlike any life form Lannon had ever encountered. They were shelled
organisms that lived their lives mostly fixed in one spot like plants, yet they
seemed more like animals.

As
the warriors neared the middle of the lake, where Lothrin was waiting for them,
Lannon forced himself to scan the dark water. He glimpsed traces of evil and
suffering from centuries past that made him feel sick to his stomach and want
to look away, but he resisted and kept searching. His vigilance paid off, as a
sunken stone walkway was revealed that led across the lake. They were standing
on the walkway—which had dropped beneath the dark surface due to crumbling
pillars beneath it—with much deeper water on either side. In that deep water
Lannon glimpsed piles of human bones—some ancient and covered in slime.
Grinning skulls lay everywhere down there. Coiled up amongst the bones were
several Pit Crawlers. It was a shocking sight, these dark, coiled serpents
lying as still as statues in the deep.

Lannon
motioned for everyone to halt. “We have a bit of an issue here,” he
whispered, pointing at the water. He revealed what he had seen.

“Ugh!”
Dallsa whispered. She pressed close to Lannon.

“They
probably aren’t aware of us yet,” said Aldreya. “They could even be
sleeping. If we move very slowly, we might avoid a fight.”

With
grim faces, the Knights crept forward through the water. They had no wish to
confront a group of Pit Crawlers—beasts that could cause instant death with a
single bite. Many Knights throughout the ages had fallen victims to these
stealthy Goblins that hid in quiet, dark places waiting to ambush their prey.

They
made it a bit farther and then Dallsa let out a scream and fell over, splashing
about. “Something brushed my leg!” she cried.

“It
was just an eel,” said Lannon, who had glimpsed the creature as it swam
by. He pulled Dallsa to her feet, a feeling of dread gripping him.

An
instant later the water exploded as six huge Pit Crawlers rose up, their jaws
open wide and dripping venom. They swayed back and forth, as thick as tree
trunks, their faces those of leering human females.

***

Taith
made every effort to flee the camp. He ran for all he was worth, as the Knights
formed a wall of protection in front of him. One of Bellis’ warriors—grinning
at the sight of the fleeing boy—shot an arrow at Taith’s back, but Wreld
Greendagger, the stocky Red Knight who was third in command at the camp,
deflected it with his burning broadsword.

Taith
made it beyond the circle of tents—but there he found another soldier with a
crossbow waiting for him. As the battle raged in the camp, the soldier
approached the boy with a grim expression. He aimed the crossbow at Taith’s
chest, squinting, his finger tightening on the trigger.