Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar (Ollanhar Series Book 1)

by Keller, Robert E.

  Jerret laughed, and raised a mug of ale. “Your king interprets things however he wants, to serve his own goals. I wondered how long it would take before Verlamer started complaining that we had violated the treaty.”

  “He has every right to complain, barbarian,” said the Lawkeeper. “In fact, he has every right to make war on your little kingdoms—both Ollanhar and Dremlock. It is only by his amazing generosity and love of peace that he currently refrains from doing so—in hope of a better solution.”

  “Love of peace?” Jerret grinned. “He doesn’t love peace anymore than I do. He lives to conquer. Are you speaking in jest?”

  “Perhaps you’ve had too much ale, barbarian,” said the Lawkeeper. “Peace is what King Verlamer lives for. His goal is to stop all of the wars that rage across Gallamerth, to make it one unified kingdom. Dremlock is seeking to disrupt that goal, and that is why I have come here—to insist that you stop this illegal expansion, abandon this tower, and return to your mountain. If you do so, you will be given more freedom to trade with the cities of Silverland. It will work to your advantage. Otherwise, I’m afraid another war is inevitable, and all of you know how the last one turned out for Dremlock.”

  “That is not our decision,” said Aldreya.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said the Lawkeeper. “You will report this to Dremlock, and Taris Warhawk and his High Council can decide.”

  “Then why didn’t you go directly to Dremlock?” asked Lannon.

  “Because I am assigned to another task,” said the Lawkeeper. “King Verlamer has requested that I place you under observation, Sunshield. So henceforth, I will be watching you and reporting what I observe.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Lannon. “The agreement never allowed for that. You are forbidden to remain at Ollanhar.”

  “Is it worth starting a war over?” asked the Lawkeeper.

  “You cannot threaten us with that,” said Aldreya. “Dremlock does not yield to the demands of a tyrant. If you go to war, then you break the treaty—and I assure you the Birlotes and Olrogs will be most displeased. Such agreements are considered sacred throughout Gallamerth.”

  “You have been living a lie,” said the Lawkeeper. “Believing in nonsense. The Birlotes and Olrogs will do nothing. Dremlock’s only hope is to withdraw from Ollanhar immediately and sign a new treaty stating that it will never seek to expand again. It’s as simple as that, and peace will result.”

  “We have your message,” said Lannon. “We will deliver it to Dremlock, and the High Council will decide. Is there anything else?”

  The Lawkeeper produced a leather pouch and laid it on the table. He fixed his gaze on Lannon. “I understand that you have made claims that King Verlamer stole from you. Is this true?”

  Lannon nodded. “He took my Glaetherin throwing star. It was an extremely rare and valuable item.”

  The Lawkeeper opened the pouch and took out a gleaming star blade. It looked exactly like the one Lannon used to own, but a quick scan with the Eye of Divinity revealed it was a fake—a replica made of Thallite steel.

  The Lawkeeper bore a smug look. “Our great king is no thief, so you can cease your complaining and smearing his reputation. The star blade was taken by accident.”

  Lannon took the throwing star and weighed it in his hand. It was roughly the same weight and the metal was quite durable—though certainty not as strong as pure Glaetherin. “It’s not my blade, but I’ll keep it anyway.”

  The Lawkeeper looked appalled. “Not your blade? But you’ll keep it?” He seemed speechless for a moment, his mouth hanging open.

  “Did you think Lannon wouldn’t know?” asked Aldreya. “He bears the Eye of Divinity. A foolish effort on King Verlamer’s part.”

  The Lawkeeper shook his head. “Such disrespect and arrogance! That is indeed your blade, Sunshield. I personally oversaw the testing of the metal. Either your precious Eye is mistaken, or you are not being truthful.”

  “There is no mistake,” said Lannon. “My throwing star rests in your king’s trophy collection, along with several other valuable items from Dremlock.”

  “Like Vorden’s sword,” said Jerret, with a laugh.

  “We have returned your blade, Sunshield,” said the Lawkeeper. “My scribe has witnessed and recorded the act. You can say whatever you want, but be assured that Bellis will dispute your claims. You will no longer be believed.”

  Lannon knew a response was pointless.

  “Is there anything further you would like to discuss?” asked Aldreya.

  “Not today,” said the Lawkeeper. “I’m a busy man, and I like to keep my meetings brief. I should inform you, though, that I fully intend to do my duty and place you under observation, Sunshield. I will leave the tower but remain camped nearby. If you travel, I will travel with you.”

  “If you must,” said Lannon. “However, if you intend to meet with me again, you should give notice in advance. Otherwise I won’t be available.”

  The Lawkeeper’s face turned crimson. “I’m going to loosen my tongue a bit here and speak what’s on my mind.” He glared at his scribe. “The meeting is officially ended.”

  The scribe bowed and closed his record book.

  The Lawkeeper again fixed his gaze on Lannon. “You’re no High Watchman—just a weak puppet leader that should never have been appointed. You’re probably in league with the Deep Shadow.”

  “If the meeting is over,” said Lannon, “then leave.” He fought down the rising anger. The Lawkeeper seemed to know how to get to him.

  “If you haven’t fallen to Tharnin,” the Lawkeeper went on, “you will do so soon enough. Your kind always does. And that is exactly why King Verlamer has placed you under observation. A Dark Watchman…a monster…”

  The words stung Lannon, but he remained passive.

  Dallsa leapt up, pointing at the door. “Get out of here before…” She was shaking with rage.

  “Before what?” The Lawkeeper rose, and his warriors pressed closer. “Do you want to start a war here and now?”

  Jerret stood, knocking his chair over in the process, and drew his sword, his muscles tense and bulging beneath his armor. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  Weapons were drawn or raised throughout the chamber.

  Lannon remained seated, however. He rarely drew his blade unless he intended to use it—and he was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Another war was the last thing he wanted, and at the moment, Ollanhar Tower was without most of its fighters.

  “Sit down, Dallsa and Jerret!” Aldreya commanded. “That’s enough of this nonsense. This will be settled in a calm and rational manner.”

  Dallsa sat, her eyes smoldering, but Jerret didn’t move.

  Aldreya gazed at him sternly. “Sheath your sword, Jerret.”

  Reluctantly, Jerret did as ordered.

  Lannon folded his arms across his chest, appearing relaxed. He forced a smile. “Have a pleasant day, Lawkeeper.”

  For an instant, hatred flickered in the Lawkeeper’s green eyes. Then he gathered his books, turned, and bellowed, “Make way!” As his warriors parted, he strode from the chamber. The warriors followed, until the last Thallite Giant had lumbered through the doorway.

  Chapter 6:

  The Festival of Souls

  The following day was warm and cloudy, with a light sprinkle of rain in the air. Everyone gathered in the tower courtyard around noon at long, polished oak tables adorned with Birlote runes. Furlus and the others had returned victorious, which added to the celebratory mood and made it easier to forget the Lawkeeper’s visit. There was much food and drink to indulge in, and a bard on loan from Dremlock played songs now and then, did magic tricks, or read poetry. Orange Squires—servants who were never able to obtain Knighthood—moved about the courtyard serving drinks and replacing empty food platters with full ones.

  The Council of Ollanhar sat at one of the tables apart from the others, in wide chairs adorned with the mischievous faces of woodland creatures from the Birlot
e Tree City of Borenthia, discussing the implications of the Lawkeeper’s words. It was a pleasant day, the breeze fresh and the courtyard green and lush around them in the shadow of the mighty, vine-laden tower that rose into the grey sky above them. The sprinkle of rain carried on the breeze helped keep them cool.

  Vorden was doing remarkably better. In fact, he seemed almost fully healed as he indulged in beef and potatoes and sipped at a goblet of wine, showing no hint of pain and the color having returned to his skin. He seemed cheerful and full of vigor—with only his yellow eyes serving as a reminder that he would never be completely normal. Dallsa was not happy with his decision to leave his bedchamber, but she had to grudgingly admit that most of his strength had returned.

  It was hard not to feel good on this fine day. Furlus Goblincrusher, however, did not seem to be in a festive mood. He sat quietly for a time, gazing sullenly at his mug of ale. At last he muttered, “I sent a Hawk. But it won’t make any difference. We will continue our expansion even at the risk of war.”

  No one really wanted to discuss such grim topics. They wanted to eat, drink, smoke pipes and celebrate the Festival of Souls that would honor all Divine Knights who had died in service of their god. But duty could not be ignored.

  “What about our forthcoming journey?” asked Lannon. “In light of this development, should the White Flamestone still go with us? With Bellis threatening war, taking it out of Silverland would seem like pure folly.”

  “I agree,” said Aldreya.

  Jace dropped his oversized spoon in bowl of stew with a splash. He was so agitated he accidentally leaned on his bread and smeared butter on his cloak sleeve. “What? Of course it is still going with us! It must!” He paused for a moment, wringing his huge, bony hands together, allowing himself a moment to calm down. “I assure you we will be confronting Bellis on the journey. King Verlamer will seek to make us disappear at land or sea, so that even our bodies will never be found. Without the White Flamestone, how would we survive?”

  “Yet how can Dremlock survive?” asked Aldreya, handing Jace a towel, “if Bellis goes to war and we have no Flamestone to defend the kingdom? Our survival is not as important as that of our god and kingdom.”

  “Perhaps,” said Jace. “But remember—there is another Flamestone out there, and we must obtain it before Bellis does. Could you imagine the devastation that would result if King Verlamer gained possession of it? Any lingering hope of preventing Bellis from taking all of Gallamerth and the lands beyond the sea would be crushed. It could mean victory for the Deep Shadow as well.”

  Lannon couldn’t deny that Jace’s argument was compelling.

  “King Verlamer has sought that Flamestone before,” said Aldreya. “And he has failed to obtain it. It may be impossible to remove it from the island. There is something dreadfully dark and dangerous out there. It haunts my dreams. We know very little about it. But war is a reality we have already faced. Without the White Flamestone for protection, Dremlock fell and many Knights perished. It was only because of Verlamer’s madness and stupidity in challenging Lannon to a duel that Dremlock is liberated today. He will not make that mistake twice. I am certain that if Dremlock falls to Bellis again, it will truly be the end for us.”

  “Yet nothing has changed,” said Furlus. “We knew that Bellis was unhappy with the expansion before this Lawkeeper arrived. This is just another attempt to scare us into retreating. It is very unlikely that Bellis will publicly break the agreement and make war on us. Instead, they’ll continue to use the Goblins and the Blood Legion to try to drive us out of Ollanhar. But as I said, I sent a Hawk and look forward to hearing what our Lord Knight has to say on the matter. Perhaps he will insist the White Flamestone remain here.”

  “I hope not,” said Prince Vannas, with a sigh. “I was really looking forward to this adventure.” The handsome Birlote leaned back in his chair, puffing at a pipe. He had been unusually quiet lately, allowing Aldreya and Lannon to make the decisions. He blew a perfect smoke ring that almost tickled Jace’s long nose.

  Lothrin sat next to the prince and also hadn’t spoken much lately—though that was not unusual for Lothrin. The lean warrior often kept to himself (when he wasn’t arguing with his cousin Vannas) and spent many hours wandering alone. He was still a Ranger at heart, favoring wild, uninhabited lands and solitude. Yet Lothrin was a wise man whose opinion was as valued as that of his royal cousins.

  “I, too, long for adventure,” said Lothrin. “But as much as it pains me to say it, our petty desires hold no weight. This is about the future of Dremlock and Gallamerth—a future which lies in great peril.”

  “Of course,” said Vannas, looking slightly annoyed. “As always, I will do whatever is best for our kingdom.

  The bard approached their table, grinning, his white-and-purple clothing shimmering as he bowed. His black hair hung in flamboyant curls from beneath his wide hat. He raised his flute to begin a song, but Aldreya dismissed him with a motion of her hand. With another quick bow, he hurried away.

  A large golden butterfly with blue swirls on its wings landed on the rim of Lannon’s silver goblet. Lannon watched it in amusement until Furlus leaned over with a scowl and blew a puff of air on it, sending it into flight. The confused butterfly then landed in Furlus’ bushy beard. The Grey Dwarf plucked it out and tossed it into the air, where it flew off.

  “What is best for this kingdom,” Furlus muttered, “is for us to go and retrieve that Flamestone. Then, with two Flamestones at our command, Bellis will truly fear us. I am certain Taris will agree with me. The Flamestones are the greatest weapons in all the land, greater even than anything the Olrogs or Thallites could invent. They belong to the Divine Essence—our god, whose word is law—and thus they belong to Dremlock. We have every right to lay claim to them.”

  “Say no more,” said Prince Vannas, smiling. “I will be happy to use the power of the White Flamestone to defeat any enemies who seek to interfere with our quest. And I will attempt to use that same power as a guide.”

  “How?” asked Aldreya, looking puzzled.

  “All of the Flamestones are linked,” said the prince. “They’re all part of the White Guardian. It stands to reason that one Flamestone could be aware of the presence of another. It’s certainly worth putting to the test.”

  Jace nodded. “It just might be possible! Perhaps your Flamestone can lead us directly to the other one, no matter how well hidden it us.”

  “You’re just guessing, though,” said Bekka. “You don’t actually have any evidence that it will work.”

  “I don’t need evidence,” said Prince Vannas, with a smug look. “My heart tells me it is so. My instincts tell me. That is all I need.”

  Bekka shook her head. She was taller than Vannas and more muscular, with broad shoulders and very dark skin. Not easily impressed by words, she demanded proof whenever someone made boasts. “If I trusted my heart every time it told me something, it would have been cut out long ago.”

  Prince Vannas nodded. “But that’s you, Norack. I am a Birlote, and a Birlote can trust his heart to lead him to the truth.”

  “Agreed,” said Aldreya, pride in her voice. “A Birlote’s instincts are not to be taken lightly. We can sense things Noracks and Olrogs cannot.”

  “Believe what you will,” said Bekka, “but until I see some evidence that this White Flamestone can actually guide us, I won’t be relying on it.”

  “Nor will I,” said Jerret.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Furlus. “Whether it can guide you or not, the journey will likely proceed.” He winked at Bekka and muttered in a low voice, “But I wouldn’t trust a Birlote’s instincts either.”

  “Exactly,” Daledus Oakfist mumbled in response. The brawny Dwarf had three mugs of ale and a heaping platter of beef in front of him.

  The Birlotes frowned but said nothing.

  ***

  They enjoyed the remainder of the afternoon, avoiding any serious topics of conversation and instead focusing o
n the food and entertainment. The clouds parted in the afternoon and left blue sky overhead, while the pleasant breeze continued to keep them cool. It was shaping up to be a wonderful evening for sitting beneath the stars and partaking in the Festival of Souls. There was not a Goblin to be seen within miles of Ollanhar (though the Lawkeeper and his warriors were camped just beyond the oak grove), and an attack seemed unlikely.

  As nightfall settled over the land, they built a huge bonfire that sent sparks soaring into the starry heavens. The tables were laden with all manner of food, though all but the heartiest eaters had already tired of feasting. Wine and ale poured constantly into mugs and goblets, and a few of the Knights had already lapsed into slumber for the evening, seated at tables. (It was considered unacceptable for a Knight to drink until unable to sit or stand—though the rule was often broken without consequence if the circumstances were right.)

  Aldreya, Dallsa, and Lannon sat apart from the others. Never willing to drink alcohol, Lannon sipped sweetened milk from a goblet—a special Birlote beverage that was supposed to invigorate him. However, it had the opposite effect in that it quickly made him tired. The milk was delicious, though, and he drank three servings of it before he grew dizzy. Puzzled, he found himself thinking strange thoughts—admiring Aldreya’s beauty and wondering why she looked so perfect. He kept staring at her until he noticed that Dallsa was glaring at him, and then he looked away, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

  “Are you okay, Lannon?” Dallsa asked, frowning. “You seem to be watching our Green Knight rather intently.”

  Aldreya seemed to take no notice, however, her eyes fixed on the bard as he sang and danced.

  “It’s nothing,” said Lannon, waving at her. His words sounded strange to him—distant. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

  Dallsa looked shocked (though delighted).

  Lannon was startled by his words. He realized he wasn’t entirely in control of his thoughts or actions. He gazed at his goblet of Birlote milk, wondering what the beverage contained. One of the Blue Knights had given it to him with a grin and a wink, stating that if Lannon didn’t like wine or ale then he might as well have some truly invigorating milk. Suddenly the truth dawned on Lannon.