The Blood of Kings (Book 4)

by Robert E. Keller

  "What's wrong?" Taris asked. The Birlote sorcerer was having his own issues from too much exertion--his old injuries causing him pain that gave him labored breathing. He kept himself composed, yet Aldreya could sense the burning agony inside him. She was unable to fathom how he withstood it so calmly.

  "I'm fine," said Vorden. "Are the others okay?"

  "They should awaken," said Jace. "We just have to give them time. I must again apologize for striking you. I temporarily lost my wits."

  Vorden shrugged. "Think nothing of it."

  "Yet something else troubles you, Vorden," said Taris.

  Vorden hesitated, then nodded. "I don't know what it is. For one thing, I nearly beheaded Aldreya, and I'm not too happy about that. But...I also feel like I don't have a right to be doing this. I'm ashamed of myself."

  "You have every right," said Taris. "You're a Divine Squire of Dremlock, who is on the path to Knighthood."

  "Yet I was granted my abilities by evil," said Vorden. "Thus, I don't deserve them. It feels wrong, but I can't turn back the clock. I'm stuck with who I am, and I hate it. I wonder if I should even be here."

  Jace smiled and took out his pipe. "Ah, I've seen this before. Someone gains power from the Deep Shadow but later breaks free of Tharnin's hold. However, the power remains. Rest assured, Vorden, you will likely find yourself using it. One seldom neglects to use power when the situation grows desperate. If fact, I've seen retired sorcerers go back to using magic to cure a simple toothache--even after swearing an oath never to practice the mystical arts again."

  Taris sneered. "They broke their oath over a toothache?"

  Jace nodded. "I've seen it happen on two occasions."

  "That's rather pathetic," said Aldreya.

  Jace shrugged. "A toothache is nothing to fool with."

  Taris shook his head in amusement.

  "I don't want to use my power--ever," said Vorden. "I want to start over and be the man I was--just a normal warrior. I was talented and could have become a great Knight. At least, that's what everyone tells me. I don't want to earn Knighthood because I'm some freak of Tharnin."

  "Yet as you said," Taris reminded him, "you can't turn back the clock. You are what you are, my young friend. You must make the most of it."

  "I hate that kind of wisdom," said Vorden, groaning. "I don't want to accept who I am, because it's not fair. Why should people have to accept it when their lives turn out far differently than what they had hoped for?"

  "You have a valid point," said Jace. "When something is unfair, it is incredibly annoying. But there is a simple answer. The answer is that you keep on fighting. Never give up, even to your last pathetic breath."

  "I don't know," said Vorden. "I've always heard it was better to accept what you can't change--and maybe that's true. Maybe I should give up on Knighthood--accept the fact that my dream is finished. Maybe I'll feel better if I do."

  "No," said Taris. "Jace's answer holds a bit of truth. I believe there is a way to accomplish almost anything in this world. For example, I will never stop trying to overcome my injuries and my pain, because I know it can be done. Many would tell me it is impossible, but it is not. I was close to death recently, but I never stopped seeking an answer within myself. Had I died, I would have died struggling to find a cure. Some are not cut out to simply give up and accept things. I am one of those people. I think you are the same way--a born fighter."

  "I never give up on anything," said Jace, a twinkle in his eye. "Not even the dead."

  Aldreya shivered, wondering what he meant. Sometimes Uncle Jace seemed creepy even for a sorcerer, though she loved to hear him talk.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" said Vorden. "That's crazy."

  "Don't call me crazy," said Jace, "simply because you don't understand me. In my mind, I always hold out hope that things will be resolved for the better. The alternative is to admit defeat. But how can you admit defeat when the universe itself hasn't given up? Only a fool believes that anything of this world is set in stone, my very young friend." He tapped his chest. "Yet always remember that in here exists immortality and hope unchanging."

  "And three loaves of bread," said Aldreya, in reference to their earlier dinner at the City Lord's mansion. She poked him in the stomach.

  Vorden sighed. "I don't understand all of that. It just sounds crazy to me. If I may speak freely, you sorcerers are a strange lot. You don't see the world like...well, like anyone normal would."

  "I detest normal," said Jace, blowing a feeble smoke ring. He grinned broadly. "I like to go places that make others tremble, where the timid would never dare look--let alone venture! While others hide away in the safe and comfortable, I search for the deepest answers that might disrupt the very fate of our world! What a lovely way to live! Ha!" He sighed deeply as if relishing the moment and ran his fingers through his curly hair, causing that hair to stick up afterward. He looked insane.

  Vorden turned away, as if he wanted no part of Jace's words.

  Taris smiled. "Overly dramatic speech, yes--but Jace once again has a point. Don't be afraid of who you are, Vorden. Don't be afraid to search for answers and to use your abilities for the good of humanity."

  Aldreya kicked Jace in the leg. "Uncle Jace, your hair is sticking up. You look like a gigantic drowned sewer rat. And a crazy one at that."

  With a shrug, Jace blew pipe smoke at her. "Get a whiff of that, my dear. The finest Norack tobacco money can buy." He leaned close to her, until his long nose was almost touching her forehead. "Oh, maybe Uncle Jace isn't so crazy after all, because he knows good leaf when he smells it and can block out the stink of humanity's creations with a mere puff of smoke. If that isn't the definition of a Wizard, then I don't know what is."

  She sniffed at it, then coughed. "I think I prefer the smell of the sewers, come to think of it."

  "Ah, you silly girl," he said, straightening up.

  She kicked him in the leg again. "Put that pipe away, before you blow us all into pieces. You'll forget and carry it out of this tunnel."

  Jace raised his eyebrows, then extinguished the pipe and shoved it in his pocket. "Unfortunately, you're right. You know me all too well."

  "Our work is finished here," said Taris. "The City Guardsmen were plotting against us--which means that Vanaxe may be our enemy as well. As soon as the others awaken, we shall leave these sewers and make for Dremlock. We may have to fight our way out of Kalamede."

  "Yes, unfortunately," said Jace. "So much violence lately. Quite a pity."

  "A prelude to war," said Taris.

  Chapter 15: The Ironheart Priests

  As Lannon and the others searched the temple, they encountered one more Priest who was hiding behind the statue of the deity. He stepped forth calmly to greet them. He carried no weapon, and his orange face was peaceful beneath the hood of his cloak. He regarded them fearlessly.

  Snarling, the Dwarves moved in to cut him down, but Lannon ordered them to halt. They turned toward him, glaring.

  "He poses no threat," said Lannon, scanning the Priest with the Eye. "Perhaps we can learn something from him."

  Valedos motioned toward the two fallen Dwarves. "I'd rather avenge my brothers, Lannon. This filthy wretch will speak nothing but lies."

  "I have no lies to tell," said the Priest. His voice was deep and calm--inhuman in its perfection. "You came to my temple seeking answers. I will be more than happy to provide them in exchange for my life and freedom."

  Valedos and the other Dwarves laughed.

  "Agreed," said Lannon. "If you answer my questions, you can go free."

  "Now hold on a moment!" growled Valedos.

  "We came here for answers," Lannon reminded him, "and not just to clean out this cult. This is a golden opportunity."

  Valedos scowled. "Lad, you are exceeding your authority."

  "We need to find Taris," said Lannon. "This Priest might know where he is. With Dremlock's future at stake, we need to question him."

  The Dark Knight
glared at Lannon, but nodded. "Although it pains me greatly to let him live, I will agree to it for Dremlock's sake."

  "Thank you," said Lannon, relieved. He turned to the cultist again. "Have you seen any other Divine Knights lurking about in these tunnels?"

  "Do you mean Taris Warhawk and his battalion?" said the Priest. "They have likely fallen victim to a trap by now, in another area of the sewers."

  "Where, exactly?" asked Lannon.

  The Priest shrugged. "I wasn't informed. There are many trapped areas down here."

  "This is a waste of time," said Valedos. "I would rather see his head roll."

  "Why did you come to Kalamede?" asked Lannon.

  "We have always been here," said the Priest. "The sewers were built around us. We have four temples in Silverland, and this is one of them. We made a pact with the City Lord long ago that allows us to live in peace."

  "But you don't live in peace," said Lannon. "You have been terrorizing the city and abducting people."

  "That is a lie," said the Priest. "We are simply defending our sacred temple. We were told the Divine Knights would come to destroy us, which is why we attacked you."

  It suddenly made sense to Lannon. "Then Vanaxe lied to us, in order to use you to destroy Taris and his warriors."

  The Priest stood silent.

  "How do you know he speaks the truth, Lannon?" asked Valedos. "The wretch could simply be lying to save his skin."

  "I sense it with the Eye," said Lannon. "He seems to be telling the truth, though I must admit he is hiding something important." Lannon searched deeper but was unable to discover what the Priest was concealing.

  "What are you hiding?" demanded Valedos, glowering at the Priest.

  "Many things," said the Priest. "Regardless, this fight could have been avoided. Now many lie dead. It deeply saddens me. It appears you were tricked into this conflict. To make amends, I will cure the poisoned Knight." He fixed his black eyes on Valedos. "Will you permit me to help him?"

  Valedos scowled. "If this is a trick..."

  "I offer no deception," said the Priest. He got a flask of liquid and poured some in the fallen Dwarf's mouth, forcing him to swallow. "It is done. He should recover in time, though his belly will hurt for days."

  "We greatly appreciate this," said Lannon. "And we're sorry for all the bloodshed. We offer peace, if the Ironheart Priests will accept it."

  "I am the High Priest of our order in Kalamede," said the cultist. "My word holds much sway. Because I believe in the way of peace, I will form a pact with the Divine Knights of Dremlock--that we bring each other no harm."

  "Agreed," said Lannon, glancing at Valedos.

  The Dwarf nodded. "Since it appears that we were all manipulated, I will agree to this pact. The one who caused this--Vanaxe the Snake--is dead. Let us not continue the bloodshed in that coward's name."

  "Come, my friends," said the High Priest. "As a show of faith, I will allow you to gaze upon our most precious relics. Then you will know my word is good. After that, you may depart freely and leave us to grieve the fallen. One of my brothers will help you search for Taris Warhawk."

  The temple contained a hidden door, leading to several chambers filled with cultists who guarded their most sacred treasures by candlelight. Among many strange items on display was an ugly, spiked battle axe that glowed with the crimson fires of Tharnin that could burn through steel, a hideous iron mask that supposedly made the wearer invincible, a crossbow that fired arrows that could willingly seek out a target, a hammer that was said to crush foes from a distance or shatter boulders, a great horn that could deafen and confuse an army, and a steam-powered shovel on wheels that could dig faster than twenty men.

  The Dwarves were astonished by this treasure trove. "Why didn't you use these items against us?" they wondered. Like all Dwarves, they loved weapons and tools and could not conceive of locking them away unused. Also, the items were forged by the Olrogs in ancient times when they were servants of the Deep Shadow. Even though the items were cursed and forbidden, Valedos and his warriors gazed at them with wonder and desire.

  "We are unworthy of them," said the High Priest. "We keep them for others to wield. I will speak no more of that topic."

  It was a sad day for the Ironheart Priests, as many had fallen in battle defending their home. The bodies had to be prepared for a burial that would take place outside of Kalamede at a sacred site in the hills. But these creatures--servants of evil though they were--had strong faith that the souls of the dead would live on peacefully in another realm.

  Lannon wasn't fond of having dealings with creatures of Tharnin, but with Bellis on the move, there was no time to fully resolve the situation. It appeared the cultists only wished to be left alone to practice their dark religion, and as a Divine Knight it was his duty to let the peaceful live as they would. If it turned out that the High Priest was lying and that his cult actually had malicious intent, Dremlock's forces could return later to deal with the situation. If there was a later, Lannon thought. If Bellis hadn't conquered Dremlock and absorbed its resources.

  ***

  With the help of one of the Priests, it didn't take long for Lannon and the Dwarves to locate Taris and the others. The Priest led them to all the most likely places, and at last the two parties came face to face in a tunnel. Then the cultist slipped away through the maze of passageways and left them alone. Lannon was greeted warmly and with delight. Meanwhile, the healers set to work on the poisoned Dwarf, who seemed to be stable enough.

  "At last!" said Prince Vannas. "The hope of Dremlock has returned! And you've brought a few warriors with you."

  Lannon's smiled. "Glad to be back."

  Aldreya gave him a warm hug. "I feared you would never return."

  "It wasn't easy," said Lannon. "I'll tell you about it sometime. I had quite an adventure."

  Jerret patted him on the back. "I never doubted you for a second. By the way, who is your friend here?" He fixed his gaze on Dallsa, a twinkle in his eye. "This one is too tall and pretty to be a Dwarf."

  "Her name is Dallsa," said Lannon, deciding to get the petty stuff out of the way before he revealed the news about Bellis. "She has healing abilities and wants to be a Squire." He gazed at Taris. "I made her a Grey Keeper--if that's allowed."

  Taris simply nodded to Dallsa. "Welcome, Squire."

  Her eyes widened. "I'm a Squire? Just like that?"

  "If Lannon has deemed you worthy," said Taris, "then I see no reason to dispute him. I wish you well on your new path."

  "Thank you!" said Dallsa, bowing. She beamed. "This is so exciting! I can't wait to send news to my father!"

  Lannon hadn't expected Taris to accept her so easily--without even testing her. He was delighted that Taris had such confidence in him.

  Vorden smiled at Lannon, a relieved look on his face. "I am greatly pleased to see you again, old friend. Like Aldreya, I had feared the worst."

  Jace chuckled. "You young Knights are so dramatic. I think this Dark Watchman can take care of himself."

  "But what news have you brought us?" asked Taris, searching Lannon's face. The Tower Master seemed to sense Lannon's mood.

  "Ill news," said Valedos. "If Lannon's Eye can be trusted."

  "I trust it," said Taris, "with the fate of Dremlock. We have ill news of our own, Lannon. Many of our Knights have fallen. We have encountered much bloodshed since your departure."

  Lannon revealed all he knew. It was time to leave and send forth the Elder Hawks to warn Dremlock. Yet thanks to the ruse in Kalamede, Bellis had likely won the race. What would they find when they reached the Firepit Mountains? Lannon imagined the legendary kingdom reduced to smoking rubble, laced with the bones of the dead.

  ***

  The Divine Knights were able to escape Kalamede without a fight. The City Guard was not prepared to deal with Taris, Lannon, Prince Vannas, and all of the other powerful warriors who rode with them. The City Council refused to speak to them while the investigation concerning Lord
Vanaxe was in progress. And so the Knights were allowed to take their horses, wagons, and goods and leave the city. Some of the Knights had perished or vanished in the sewers, and the size of the battalion was reduced even further--to less than fifty battle-ready warriors. There was no time to search for the dead or the living in the tunnels below, and so the others simply made for Dremlock with heavy hearts.

  As the Divine Knights rode out, they caught site of a huge army closing in on Kalamede. Golden banners revealed it was a battalion from Bellis--likely on route to secure the city as the invasion of Silverland progressed. They realized how fortunate they had been to escape both the Ironheart Priests and the Knights of Bellis. They had survived the trap, but the damage had been done. Bellis' army was advancing toward Dremlock, and the White Flamestone was far away.

  "We were fools," said Taris. "We should have rode back to Dremlock long ago. For some reason we thought we could liberate Kalamede and still return in time to fortify our kingdom. I should have known better."

  "Decisions, decisions," said Jace, with a shrug. "Every decision is a bad one if it doesn't work. Dremlock was not ready to submit to the will of Bellis. Kalamede was too important to ignore. Yet now the truth is revealed--that a real war has begun that is not likely to end after one battle."

  "There is still hope," said Prince Vannas, "as long as we possess the White Flamestone. I've believed that from the beginning."

  "Certainly," said Jace. "And the Eye of Divinity, which seems to have been forgotten as of late. But if Bellis conquers Dremlock before we arrive, the situation will become much more difficult."

  "I agree," said Lannon, nodding to the prince. "We can't give up hope, no matter what we find in the Firepit Mountains."

  "Of course not," said Taris, his tone rigid. "No one suggests we should give up, even if we believe we're going to our doom. Nevertheless, I was foolish for journeying to Kalamede and I regret the decision. Nothing is going to change my thoughts on that. Now I must seek to make amends."

  "Amends will be made," said Prince Vannas, "when we drive Bellis from Silverland."