Knights: Legends of Ollanhar (5 page)

Aldreya, Taith, Vorden, Lothrin, and Prince Vannas went to
shop for supplies, while the others--aside from Bekka--entered the inn. Bekka
was asleep in a wagon and no one wanted to disturb her.

Daledus' eyes lit up as he stepped inside, and he grinned.
He sniffed the air, savoring the smell of booze, sweat, and pipe smoke.
"Now this looks like heaven compared to those vile mountains."

Lannon patted him on the back. "Don't get in any
fights. We're here for friendly purposes, remember?"

Daledus nodded, frowning. "Of course. I have no plans
to fight. Just want to have some ale and relax." But his gaze wandered
toward some angry men who seemed about to trade blows over a dice game.

All eyes were upon the travelers as they walked to the bar.
The place had quieted down a bit when they entered, but now the noise picked up
again.

As Lannon stood at the bar, a blonde woman who was plump
and curvy confronted him. She stumbled, then kicked off her shoes in
irritation. Her dress was stained with wine. She reeked of booze.

"Honorable...Knights of Dremlock," she said,
falling toward him. She grabbed the bar to steady herself and laughed.
"You have the look."

Lannon nodded. "Can I help you with something?"

She threw her arms around his neck and planted a sloppy
kiss on his cheek. "I
love
Divine Knights...very much." She
then mumbled something unintelligible.

Dallsa stepped close to her, glaring. "Lannon isn't
interested."

Lannon's face reddened a bit. He found himself irritated
with Dallsa. He didn't need her to speak for him. He extracted himself from the
lady's grasp. "Thank you, but I wish to be alone now." He turned away
from her.

The lady snorted. "Whatever. It's your loss,
friend."

Jerret put his arm around her. "You'll get nowhere with
Lannon, my dear. I'll make for better company. Let's have a drink."

She threw her head back and laughed. "Someone with a
soul. Wonderful." Then she squeezed Jerret's arm muscles. "You must
be the strongest Knight of all. What do they feed you at Bellis?"

"
Dremlock
," Jerret corrected, his eyes
narrowing.

"That's what I said," she muttered. Then she
clamped her hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened. "Wait, did I
say...?"

 
Then Jerret smiled.
"No worries, my lady. I'm not a Divine Knight anymore, so say whatever you
want. I couldn't care less."

"Not a Knight?" she said, looking disappointed.
"But how is that possible? You're the strongest one of the bunch."
She pinched his arm again.

"Not quite," said Daledus, nudging Jerret.
"But close."

Jerret sneered at Daledus. "I'd like a rematch on that
test of strength. I think I had too much ale in me that night."

"No rematch," said Daledus, grinning, "until
the next Festival of Souls. Until then I remain the champion."

Jerret started to turn away, but the lady seized his
shoulder. "Knight, warrior, mercenary--what's the difference? Let's have
some ale!"

Jerret ordered drinks and then led her away to a table. He
was soon engaged in merrymaking, and none of the men dared challenge the
muscle-laden warrior. They didn't like or trust him, but they accepted him out
of fear. After ordering two pints of ale for himself, Daledus joined him.

Jace ordered three loaves of bread, two bowls of stew, a
platter of fried fish and mashed potatoes, and a pitcher of ale. "That
should take the edge off my hunger," he said to the wide-eyed, slender
young woman of about fifteen who was taking his order. "Oh, and one more
thing. Do you have any pudding?"

She shook her head. She had curly blonde hair and wore a
blue dress adorned with yellow flowers. "We have chocolate cake,
though."

"I'll take one," said Jace.

"A piece of cake?" she said, writing it down.

"No, a
whole
cake," Jace replied.
"Who eats just one piece?"

With a nod, she hurried off to the kitchen.

Lannon moved apart from the others and stood at the bar,
sipping a mug of milk. He ordered a bowl of stew, but didn't feel very hungry.
He didn't especially like taverns, for their very existence seemed to violate
the Sacred Laws, but they were a place to obtain food and drink and have some
good conversations. At the moment, Lannon wanted no part of the latter,
favoring a bit of solitude.

 
Yet his isolation
was interrupted by a rugged, bearded man with large fists and a pair of fur
traps hanging from his belt. The man stepped close to Lannon, sizing him up.
Lannon sighed, avoiding eye contact.

The trapper moved closer. Dry leaves clung to his tunic and
tangled black hair as if he had been sleeping in the woods. "You're with
the Divine Knights, right? Saw your horses through the window. There's no
mistaking the Greywinds. Don't take this the wrong way, but didn't Bellis crush
you fools?"

"No," said Lannon. "Our kingdom remains
free."

"If you're a Knight," said the trapper, "why
are you so average in size? I thought Knights were supposed to be big." He
leaned closer. "Like
me
."

"Size isn't everything," said Lannon.

"Yes, it is!" insisted the trapper. He made an
odd growling sound in his throat. "I'm strong like a bear. You don't tame
me." He thumped his chest. "Divine Knights are nothing in these
parts. You should be afraid."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Lannon. "You
made your point, whatever it is. I think you've had too much to drink and
you're not thinking clearly. Could you move along now, please? I really just
want to be alone."

"You're a rude wretch," the trapper growled. He
lifted one of his traps. "I put a man's finger in here two nights ago. Cut
it clean off."

"I'm sure you're proud of that," said Lannon.

"
Very
proud," said the trapper. "I
enjoy teaching lessons."

Lannon didn't respond. He focused on his milk.

The trapper's eyes narrowed. "You're beyond Silverland
now, little man. You're going to die out here, lost and forgotten." He
jabbed his finger into Lannon's shoulder. "Divine Knights are lying
tricksters who worship evil!"

"I've heard enough out of you," said Lannon,
irritation gripping him. "I suggest you go away before you get hurt."

The trapper's eyes widened at that bold threat. Then he
took a swing at Lannon's jaw. Lannon grabbed the fist and squeezed, and the
trapper cried out in pain.

Lannon released him. "Enough."

The trapper glared at him, rubbing his fist.

"That was a cowardly punch," Lannon said.
"Is that how you win your fights? Attacking someone by surprise?"

The trapper shrugged. "Usually works. And you deserved
it for threatening me. I don't take kindly to threats from strangers."

Lannon shook his head in disbelief.

"You're stronger than you look," said the
trapper, his bloodshot eyes narrowing. He squeezed Lannon's arm. "You
actually do have some muscle under that cloak. You're hard as a rock."

Lannon pushed him away. "Can I just finish my milk in
peace?"

The trapper frowned. "Sure, why not? But you should
work on that attitude if you want to fit in around here."

"
My
attitude needs work?" said Lannon.
"What about yours? You cut off a man's finger in one of your traps! Isn't
that a poor attitude?"

The trapper raised his hands. "Just telling you how it
is, for your own good. If you want to ignore me, go right ahead. And that's the
thanks I get for trying to set a man straight." He kicked a bar stool and
walked away.

Lannon gazed after him for a moment. Then he went back to
sipping his milk, wondering if was somehow projecting a negative attitude to
the locals. He prided himself on being polite and friendly. After pondering it
for a moment, he concluded it had merely been a case of crossing paths with a
drunken fool.

Someone moved close to Lannon and plopped an ale mug down
next to him. A female voice said, "The most powerful Knight of Dremlock,
yet you're the only man in this entire tavern drinking milk."

Lannon groaned inwardly. After the incident with the
trapper, he didn't want company. Then he looked up--to find Saranna smiling at
him. It had been a long time since he had crossed paths with the Ranger. She
wore battered leather armor over her green tunic--armor that appeared to bear
claw marks--and was armed with bow and dagger. Her long auburn hair was set in
a single braid. She had been hardened by rugged living but still retained her
beauty.

Lannon returned her smile. "Good to see you again. I'm
surprised to find you outside of Silverland."

She didn't respond to that. Instead, they talked about old
times for a while, and how Lannon and the other Knights were faring under the
threat of Bellis. Eventually Jace and Dallsa came over to greet her. (Jerret
and Daledus, however, were too distracted by merrymaking to bother--talking and
laughing with the women and arm wrestling with the men.)

Saranna was both saddened and angry to learn of Galvia's
death, and she expressed her deep contempt for Bellis.

"Bellis can rot," she muttered. "King
Verlamer makes life hard for everyone. Anyone trying to run a legitimate
business is harassed constantly, and the taxes are outrageous. Innocent people
are imprisoned or executed as spies. Fathers torn away from their families in
the dead of night--accused of conspiring against the king--and thrown in
dungeons or made to work in horrid conditions. Yet there is nothing I can do
about it. I'm just a lowly Ranger trying to earn my pay."

"Not necessarily," said Dallsa. "I'm not
much of a fighter, obviously, but I'm doing my part to thwart Bellis."

Saranna studied her for a moment, then said, "A
healer?"

Dallsa nodded. "Still in training and not yet a
Knight." She lowered her voice and added, "But Bellis has reason to
fear me. If my mission succeeds, it could bring about the downfall of
Verlamer's empire."

Saranna looked skeptical. "How can Bellis ever fall?
Their warriors and spies are everywhere, from sea to sea, and their resources
are unlimited. It would take divine intervention to defeat them."

"Yes," said Jace, his eyes shining. "That's
exactly what it would take. The power of a god." He placed his huge hand
on Lannon's shoulder. "A power that lies in certain burning stones, and in
this man right here."

"The Flamestones," said Saranna. "You
already had one, last I knew."

"We still do," said Jace. "But we need one
more."

With that, Jace returned to his meal.

They fell silent for a time, as Saranna and Dallsa ordered
some stew. They all stood at the bar, eating and barely talking for a while.

"So why did you come here, Saranna?" asked
Lannon, just to break the awkward silence.

"To escape Bellis," she replied. "Silverland
has become much too hostile toward Rangers. King Verlamer has no respect for my
kind. He prefers to let his soldiers deal with Goblins and bandits. He thinks
we demand too much pay." She laughed. "We barely scrape by, yet we
demand too much pay. For someone who rules all of Gallamerth, he sure is
greedy."

Lannon nodded. "His greed knows no limits."

Saranna shook her head in amusement. "There I
go--bringing up the topic of Bellis again. Can't escape talking about it. It's
very tiresome."

"There is so much fear these days," said Dallsa.
"Bellis is like the Deep Shadow itself, seeking to consume everything. You
can't really escape Verlamer's presence, no matter where you go."

"Actually, I'm doing well here," said Saranna.
"Rarely is a soldier of Bellis seen in this unimportant region. And there
is plenty of work."

For a moment Saranna's gaze was distant, almost sad.
"I have to admit that I do get tired of this lifestyle sometimes, though,
but being a Ranger is all I know. Every day I get up and it's the same as the
day before--someone needs a Goblin or two hunted down, or someone needs
protection from bandits. I'm always out looking for work, when I'm not injured
from combat. That's all I do, aside from a bit of merrymaking in the
taverns."

Lannon had a solution to her problem, but he wanted to
approach it carefully. "Ever thought about traveling? Seeing new
lands?"

"That's why I'm here," she said.

"I mean a bigger journey," said Lannon.
"Across Gallamerth."

Her eyes narrowed. "Get to the point, Lannon."

He lowered his voice and said, "We're looking for
stout warriors to accompany us on a dangerous mission that will take us out to
sea. We might not return for a long time--if we ever do. It's definitely not
for someone looking to settle down, but for someone with a heart for
adventure."

"We're seeking a Flamestone," said Dallsa.
"If we obtain it, Bellis will have great reason to fear us. If we fail--or
if we die out there--then Dremlock may fall. We are gambling everything on this
quest."

Saranna stood in silence for a time. Then she said,
"I'm certainly not ready to settle down. In fact, I doubt I'll ever marry
or raise children. It's just not my way. I do crave adventure, however. Count
me in. I'm ready to leave this town. I'm so bored with it--you can't even
imagine how I feel."

"Are you certain?" asked Lannon. "I just
want you to understand the risks. There is a good chance this mission could
mean your death."

Saranna shrugged. "Battling Goblins or bandits could
get me killed, too. What's the difference? And if I ever do decide to settle
down and raise a family, I want it to be in a free land. I refuse to surrender
my offspring to that tyrant and his bloated kingdom. This looks to be worth the
risk--a cause I can accept dying for. Yes, I just made a quick decision, but
it's a firm one."

Lannon nodded. He was surprised at how quickly she had
agreed, with no discussion of a contract, but was also delighted. "Then
we're glad to have you along. You're a great warrior and an exceptional
Ranger."