Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity

by Robert E. Keller

  Saranna leapt over and grabbed the Squires, holding them in a bunch to protect them and keep them from trying anything heroic.

  "We may have to flee," she whispered to them.

  "Let me help the others!" Aldreya pleaded. But the Ranger only tightened her grip on the Squires.

  Overcome with rage, Caldrek attacked the Worm with a flurry of blows. His sword burned with blue fire. A natural warrior of unsurpassed talent, he dodged globs of slime while seeking to find a weakness in the beast. But each stroke, no matter how sure, merely glanced away from the rubbery surface.

  "You'll pay for Shennen's life!" he grunted.

  But the Worm apparently grew tired of this game, and used four of its legs to trap Caldrek. Then it buried its fangs into the Red Knight's shoulder, piercing his armor. Caldrek's mouth gaped open. He tried to say something, but the words were lost as his body went limp from the poison.

  The Squires cried out in shock.

  Taris struck the Worm with several blazing fireballs that burned into its flesh. The beast, obviously sensing danger, suddenly leapt up and clung to the ceiling in a move that was so quick the eye could not follow it. Seeking to escape or perhaps gain a better vantage point, it scuttled across the ceiling. But the hissing fireball caught up with it and exploded with a deafening roar that shook the chamber. Streaming jets of flame dropped to the floor and lay burning.

  For an instant, they thought the Worm had been disintegrated. But then some barrels tipped over and the monster leapt out into the open, clumps of molten green fire falling from its body. It raced towards a dark hole in the stone wall. It screeched in rage at them, then crawled into the hole and was lost from sight.

  With Saranna still guarding the dismayed Squires, Taris raced over to his trapped companions. Furlus had managed to free one of his arms, and he was pulling slime from his beard and sputtering in fury. Taris helped finish freeing him, and then set to work on Shennen. A moment later the Blue Knight lay on his back on the floor, released of his prison.

  Shennen opened his eyes and started breathing, as if coming out of a deep trance. His face was grim. "It was too fast, too silent. I got caught off guard."

  "Are you okay?" said Taris.

  In answer, Shennen stood up.

  Caldrek was not dead, either. The poison had left him weak, yet he was conscious. Shennen lifted him, while Furlus quickly freed the head of the remaining figure. They discovered it was a dead Jackal Goblin.

  "Apparently," said Taris, as they fled the chamber, "that creature does not play favorites with other Goblins. All races are equal food in its eyes."

  When they reached the surface and closed the trapdoor, Caldrek shifted about, and whispered, "That felt wretched. But I think it's starting to wear off. I should be able to move around soon enough."

  "Perhaps we should take you back to Dremlock," said Furlus. "We haven't come that far."

  "No!" Caldrek sputtered, coughing. "Just give me a moment. The poison obviously isn't deadly. At least I hope not."

  "It's not supposed to be deadly," said Lannon. "According to my book The Truth about Goblins, that is. The poison was just meant to weaken you. Of course, that Worm wasn't supposed to exist, either."

  Taris chuckled. "You must know every word of that book, Lannon. How many times have you read it?"

  Caldrek stumbled to his feet. The Red Knight did not seem to have fully recovered, as he staggered a bit, but he insisted he was okay. "I can make it!" he insisted. "I'll be fine."

  "We'll see," Furlus said. "If you're anything less than perfect, you go back. I'll not have your death on my conscience."

  Caldrek nodded, then doubled over and went into a coughing fit. When he stood up, his eyes were watering, but he looked steadier.

  Furlus unscrewed one end of the cylinder and read the scroll aloud:

  Master,

  This message is extremely urgent. A lad named Lannon Sunshield has come to Dremlock, and apparently he bears the rare power known as the Eye of Divinity, which could eventually be a threat to our plans. It would be difficult to have him cast out, and even if we were able to, he could remain an outside threat. And so we have opted for the easier and more sturdy route. We shall have one of our servants kill Lannon. Don't worry, Master, the boy shall meet his end one way or another. I have trusted this letter to Creglin, so that he may get it to you with all speed. However, you need do nothing. I have the matter well in hand. Lannon Sunshield will die!

  Your Loyal Servant

  "There you have it!" growled Furlus. "The evidence we sought! Justice shall come of this, my friends."

  "And yet it fails to mention Kealin or Moten," said Taris.

  "It is Moten's writing," said Furlus. "I can tell Olrog handwriting, and Moten has a very unique style. And we can have this examined by a Scribe and a comparison made. Moten shall be found guilty. I have no doubt of it. We may find evidence down here against Kealin too."

  "Hopefully not as well guarded," said Shennen. "How could that scroll have ended up down there?"

  "The Jackal must have taken a wrong turn or something," said Taris. "Regardless, it is very fortunate for us that it met its doom. Now at least one corrupt member of the High Council will earn his rightful place in Dremlock Dungeon."

  "I want to go confront him myself," said Furlus. "But first we need to finish our mission down here. Yet I can hardly wait to face him! And though he will undoubtedly spend his years in the dungeon, being treated humanely, I have a better punishment in mind."

  "And what is that?" said Taris.

  "We should toss him down there," said Furlus, nodding to the trapdoor. "Let one fiend prey upon another. That would be true justice."

  Taris frowned. "And yet you should bear in mind how your people once administered punishments like that."

  Furlus sighed and nodded. "It is true. But nevertheless, if anyone deserves to be fed to an oversized Worm, it is Moten."

  "The Worm..." Taris pondered. "That was a creature of extraordinary power, and I hope never to encounter it again."

  "It may have been leftover from the Great War," said Furlus. "It probably fled into these mines to escape Olzet Ka and the Crimson Flamestone."

  "As for that scroll," said Taris, "perhaps we should take it to Cordus before we continue on. If we meet a bad end down here, the scroll might vanish with us, and justice would not be served."

  Furlus put the scroll back in its case and stowed it away in his backpack. "Like I said, I want to confront Moten myself. And we can afford no more delays. The Goblin Lord and the assassin are escaping even as we speak."

  Taris said nothing, seeing the determined look on Furlus' face and perhaps knowing it was useless to argue with a stubborn Dwarf.

  Chapter 17: Into the Depths

  They cautiously proceeded past the iron door and along another tunnel. It turned a corner and began to slope downward, and they soon encountered a tangle of black roots that had been chopped through. The roots grew out of cracks in the stone walls, and ceiling, and the tunnel floor was stained dark with blood from them.

  "The Iracus roots grow thick here," said Furlus. "There is a huge den of Black Mothers down this way. The Mothers have been sealed off, but their roots still creep all over through the stone, splitting it and sometimes causing cave-ins."

  "You know this area?" said Taris, in amazement.

  "Of course I do," said Furlus. "I've never been here in person, but there are stacks of old books down by the Deep Forge, some of which have these areas mapped out in great detail. I've studied them thoroughly."

  "Yet haven't you claimed on many occasions," mused Taris, "that I spend too much time with my books?"

  Furlus ignored this, and concentrated on leading the company down the long, sloping course. Eventually it leveled off and they emerged into a round chamber. At the center of the room was the opening of a mineshaft, about fifteen-feet wide, with old wooden planks partially covering it. Lying off to one side were old mining tools, piles of rotten rope, bucket
s, and some sort of badly rusted device that stood about nine feet tall and displayed many gears, levers, and wheels, with piles of thick chain at the foot of it. Furlus gazed at that last device with pride shining in his grey eyes.

  "What is that thing?" said Taris.

  "It was called a God Arm," said Furlus. "It helped pull Glaetherin ore up the mineshaft. It could drag tons of it up with no difficulty. If that doesn't represent Olrog ingenuity, I don't know what does."

  Taris nodded. "The Olrogs are amazing inventors."

  Furlus went to the edge of the shaft and knelt, holding his lantern over the hole. "It looks like someone carved a ladder right into the stone, but we'll use our ropes just to be on the safe side. Now, who wants to get lowered down first?"

  Caldrek stepped forward. Furlus tied his rope around Caldrek and lowered him over the edge. Shennen and Saranna held the rope's end, adding extra support, while the wolf stayed alert to danger. Caldrek said nothing as he was being lowered. But at last the rope went slack, and his whisper arose from the pit.

  "As far as I can tell, it's safe to come down."

  "How deep is it?" Furlus asked.

  "At least forty feet," said Caldrek. "But that is merely a crude guess. Regardless, a fall could be fatal, so be careful!"

  "I better go next," said Furlus, "since I'm the heaviest and it will probably take all of you to lower me down."

  One by one the others (including Darius) were lowered in, until all of them except Shennen stood on the stone floor below. They were in a large chamber with a low ceiling, its walls hidden in shadow beyond their lantern light. From where the mineshaft (and the stone ladder) ended eight feet above them, an iron ladder hung down to the floor.

  Aldreya glanced upward. "What about Shennen?"

  "Stand aside," came Shennen's whisper. "I'm climbing down. I don't want anyone under me in case I slip."

  Moments later, Shennen's lean form descended into the light. He was moving swiftly down the rope. When he reached the chamber floor, he readied his weapon. Shennen had fastened the rope to something above, and it continued to hang down, offering a second means of climbing up in case a swift escape was needed.

  Shennen nodded. "Let the wolf lead the way."

  "Darius is already on it," said Saranna, pointing to where the wolf was crouched at the edge of the lantern light, his nose pressed to the floor.

  They followed Darius, passing huge mining carts and buckets, piles of ore that glittered silver, and heaps of rusted pickaxes. The gloom hung thick in the air here, the feeling of doom and despair and of being closed in. They could feel the countless tons of rock bearing down on them, and they could only imagine what the miners must have dealt with spending endless days and nights in this place. Yet the miners had been Olrogs, stout of heart like Furlus. They had chosen to devote their lives to the mines, and in grim proof of that, Olrog bones and skulls were strewn here and there.

  Furlus bowed his head in respect. "They fought to the last to defend what was theirs," he said. "But the Deep Shadow was too strong."

  Suddenly Timlin stopped. He was breathing heavily, his eyes darting into the shadows. He avoided looking at the others.

  "What's wrong, Timlin?" said Lannon.

  "I'm afraid," Timlin said, his face reddening. "This reminds me of the last time we were down here. I don't want to go any farther."

  "Timlin!" Vorden sighed disgustedly. "What's the matter with you? We have Knights with us this time, and a Ranger. It's not like before, when it was just us. Now quit being such a weakling and get moving."

  Aldreya shook her head in confusion. "Look at what we just went through down in those tombs. You were brave enough then. I can't understand you, Timlin."

  "It's different now," Timlin whispered. "We're closer to..." He closed his mouth, and shook his head.

  Shennen placed his hand on Timlin's shoulder. "Fear is not always a bad thing. It can help keep you alert. But it is important to stay focused. Do you really want to go back, and leave Lannon with no means to summon his Eye of Divinity?"

  Timlin shook his head. "I just feel afraid."

  "We will protect you," said Shennen.

  "If you can," said Timlin, looking at the floor.

  "The boy has a point," said Furlus. "We may not be able to protect him. In fact, that Worm was nearly too much for us, and that certainly might not be the worst creature lurking in the mines. He could die down here."

  "Furlus, what are you trying to do?" said Caldrek, raising his eyebrows. "We should be trying to comfort the lad."

  "I'm just being truthful," said Furlus. "If he goes any farther, he could be killed. After all, we don't know what's down here. So if you want to turn back, Timlin, you can, and the rest of us will too. And then we won't know what's in these mines, or whether Dremlock could be attacked from below. The choice is yours. Furlus Goblincrusher is no slave driver. If you want to go back, say so now."

  Timlin was quiet for a moment. Then he whispered, "I'll keep going, I guess. I don't want to ruin things for everyone."

  Saranna stepped next to Timlin and smiled at him. "I'll stay close to you, Timlin. If anything attacks us, we'll face it together."

  "Don't worry about me," said Timlin. "I just don't like the mines, because they remind me of something."

  "What do they remind you of?" Saranna asked, touching his shoulder. Timlin flinched away from her.

  Timlin's voice grew bitter. "Never mind. Just something that happened once when I was younger. It's not important." He held up his flayer, a gleam in his eyes. "But I feel better now, and I'm ready to find that Tenneth Bard fellow. He tried to kill Lannon, and he needs to pay. So let's get going."

  Saranna gazed at Timlin with uncertainty. She seemed about to ask him something more, but Timlin had already started forward, a small and silent shadow, his flayer held ready.

  Lannon watched Saranna, impressed with her kindness and courage (and even more impressed with her beauty). Despite his fears, and his need to stay alert, he found himself glancing her way more often than he should have.

  After a time, the chamber floor became covered in silver dust, and they could make out boot prints in it. The tracks led them into a tunnel blocked by an iron door that was locked. The Knights studied the lock, and came to the conclusion that Lannon would have to use the Eye. But Timlin begged to be allowed to try picking it, and so he was given a set of tools.

  "Give it a quick try," said Furlus. "But this lock is very stout."

  "You can do this, Timlin," said Shennen. "If you stay focused and let nothing distract your mind, the lock will succumb to your will."

  Timlin went to work, his tiny fingers moving skillfully, his face set in a determined look. Just when the others were beginning to grow impatient, a click arose. Timlin backed away, grinning. "I got it!" he said.

  "Well done," said Shennen, patting him on the back. "Amazing, really. I myself would have struggled with it. Your Knightly essence must be very strong. And those tiny, quick fingers you have are a bonus."

  The Squires were instructed to stand behind the four men, with Saranna and Darius guarding the rear. While Taris and Furlus readied their weapons, Caldrek yanked the door open--to reveal a short hallway that ended at another door. The floor of this hallway was strewn with loose boards and rusty spikes.

  Caldrek and Taris started forward, but Furlus ordered them to stop. "Hold on, now. Don't be wandering off without knowing what you're getting into."

  "What's wrong?" said Taris.

  Furlus pointed to the debris in the passageway. "Doesn't that look a little out of place to you?"

  "It looks like loose boards and spikes," said Taris. "There is a lot of debris down here. What's different about this?"

  Caldrek shook his head. "Even I cannot glimpse what Furlus sees."

  "I see it," said Shennen. "Those boards may have been put there deliberately. They look a bit too randomly placed. See how none of them overlap? This could be a trap of some sort."

  Furlus held
forth a lantern, studying the tunnel. "The walls and ceiling look okay. The trap, if it exists, must be under the boards themselves." He frowned. "I guess I'll go first. You others wait for me. I have a suspicion..."

  The Olrog carefully stepped along the tunnel, avoiding the loose boards. When he drew close to two of them lying side by side, near the tunnel's end, he sat his lantern down and raised his axe. The others could hear his raspy breathing as he cautiously stepped towards the two planks.

  Then the planks exploded into the air and a dark, serpent-like shape surged out of a hole in the stone floor. The others caught a glimpse of a humanoid head, its reddish mouth split wide to reveal dripping fangs. Yet the instant that head popped up from the hole, Furlus' swung his axe and severed it from its body. The head rolled away, while the body writhed about, oozing dark fluid, until it lay still.