Knights: The Blood of Kings (Knights Series)

by Robert E. Keller

  Vannas ignored Jerret and kept searching, his hands trembling as he moved objects about. Galvia awoke, and the young Knights scoured the tent for the black pouch that contained the Flamestone, but it was nowhere to be found. At last they gave up and stood staring at each other in disbelief. Lannon wondered if the Wolf was responsible. Had the stealthy beast somehow removed it from their heavily guarded tent? It seemed impossible, considering the Wolf's size.

  Then the prince's face turned crimson with rage. "Lothrin! It has to be him! He has finally stolen it!"

  "Calm down," said Lannon, appalled at the notion. "You don't have any proof of that. It could have been one of our foes."

  "Then where is he?" said Vannas. He was shaking with rage. "I'll bet he has taken the Flamestone and fled the camp! He is a Ranger and will be difficult to track down. It could take months, if we ever do find him." Vannas clutched his head and groaned. "Lothrin's greed will bring about the ruin of Dremlock!"

  "Lothrin wouldn't do that," said Jerret. "He's no thief."

  "I agree," said Galvia. "Lothrin has an honorable heart, and he obeys the Sacred Laws. You should know your cousin better than that."

  "I used to know him," said Vannas, "but he has changed. His mind is always on the Flamestone. He hides it well from the rest you. I must alert Taris at once!" His hands knotted into fists. "If Lothrin has betrayed Dremlock..."

  Vannas let his words trail off, as Lothrin stepped calmly into the tent. The Birlote Ranger looked confused. One hand was in his cloak pocket.

  "Good morning," Lothrin mumbled.

  "There you are," Vannas growled, stepping close to him menacingly. "And where is the White Flamestone?"

  Lothrin withdrew the gem from his pocket. His face was red with shame. "This is very strange. I don't even remember taking it or leaving the tent. I must have been sleepwalking."

  "Liar!" Vannas snarled. "You stole it!"

  Lothrin's eyes narrowed. "You have no right to say such a thing, cousin. As you can see, I have returned and admitted it was in my possession. Would a liar do that? No, instead I would have tried to flee the camp."

  Vannas hesitated, snared by the truth in Lothrin's words. Then he snatched the Flamestone from him. "Maybe you lost your nerve and decided you had better return it. After all, Dremlock doesn't look kindly upon traitors."

  Lothrin's face darkened. "Maybe you should learn to control yourself, my cousin, and start acting like the prince you're supposed to be."

  With a cry, Vannas punched Lothrin in the jaw, knocking him down. He started toward the fallen Ranger, but Lannon seized the prince from behind. Jerret helped Lothrin up and held him in place.

  Lothrin's eyes smoldered with fury. "How dare you strike me? I'm your cousin and a member of the royal family. You have brought shame to the Elder House. I expected better of you. Where is your patience and wisdom?"

  Vannas bowed his head, as he shoved the gem into his cloak pocket. "I shouldn't have struck you. But you need to stay away from the White Flamestone. The Divine Essence wanted it in my hands, and there it must remain. I will report this incident to Taris and let him decide what should be done."

  Lothrin shrugged. "As I said, I was sleepwalking. It has happened before. It is a common affliction. Yes, I am drawn to the Flamestone. Everyone knows it. But I would never deliberately steal it from you. Tell Taris that. And if you strike me again--prince or not, I will defend myself."

  Suddenly, Vannas' hand dropped to his sword hilt. His eyes were cold with purpose. "I have heard your warning, cousin--now hear mine. I will protect this Flamestone with my life--with my blade if necessary."

  Lothrin's eyes widened. "You would kill me if I laid hands on it? Then you have truly become lost to that gem's power. What a shame."

  "He wouldn't kill you," said Lannon, but he doubted his own words. Maybe Vannas would indeed kill Lothrin if it came to that. Lannon didn't understand the ways of Birlotes, and the two men were seething with anger.

  Vannas said nothing. He continued to direct an icy gaze at Lothrin. His hand remained on his sword hilt.

  Lothrin shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe what you are suggesting. You've been like a brother to me."

  "Enough!" said Galvia, shoving them apart. "If you two don't stop, I'll have Furlus come and deal with you."

  "Yes, stop the nonsense," said Jerret, looking troubled. "We have enough enemies to confront without battling each other."

  "This conversation is ended," said Vannas. "With Aldreya absent, I am in command here. We shall all go about our business."

  The others bowed--including Lothrin, though he muttered to himself under his breath. The tension was extreme in the tent, and Lannon hated it. They were all crammed together and guarded, given limited freedom. If they didn't find a way to resolve their differences, it was going to be wretched in the days ahead. Emotions were running so high between Vannas and Lothrin that Lannon feared bloodshed could result at any moment. And Vannas being second in command made the situation worse, for Lannon had no authority to establish boundaries that might prevent another fight. He decided to bring the issue to Aldreya.

  Lannon glanced down at the eye symbol on his Knightly sash. He was encouraged to avoid wearing the sash unless at Dremlock, for the sake of concealing his identity from his foes. But there it lay by his quilt--signifying his status. He was a Dark Watchman now and was supposed to have greater authority than the average Knight. But in the tent, amongst the Birlotes of the royal family, he was ranked third in command. Even Taris was not exempt from politics.

  Chapter 5: A Dream of Servitude

  The Knights spent the morning preparing for travel, gathering everything into saddle bags and wagons. At last they rode forth across the soggy grassland for Kalamede, leaving only crushed grass and charred wood behind to mark their campsite. Everyone knew there was a chance the journey could be abandoned, that they might be called back to Dremlock to help fortify the kingdom against Bellis. But the Tower Masters intended to ride on until told to do otherwise, as they eagerly awaited messages from the Elder Hawks.

  The fog lifted, and Lannon scanned the tall grass and hillsides for the Wolf; but if the ancient Goblin was pursuing him, it was somehow staying hidden. The Divine Shield rode at the heart of the battalion, and the young Knights were surrounded by Taris, Furlus, Jace, Trenton, Shennen, and Daledus. In spite of all the warfare this battalion had faced, it was still quite formidable, with its rows of armored Knights and banners flapping in the spring breeze. Lannon felt deep pride over what they had accomplished thus far. With the White Flamestone on their side, they were ready for anything--and tales of their grand victory over Bellis had no doubt spread throughout the land. Taris had already led this group to legendary status, and Lannon was certain more great deeds would be done.

  At one point late in the afternoon, Lannon spotted a hulking shadow on a hillside. It was so distant he could make out little more than a large patch of darkness, but when he blinked, the shadow was gone. He was certain he'd just caught a glimpse of the Wolf, and chills ran down his spine. Perhaps the beast had revealed itself to him deliberately. He informed Taris of what he'd seen.

  "I'm not surprised," said Taris. "You will glimpse this shadow again. Like it or not, you have a new companion, Lannon. This stalker will never let you rest, until you are destroyed. Unless, that is, we destroy it first."

  "Shouldn't we go and investigate?" asked Lannon. "The beast might be lurking close by."

  "That would be pointless," said Taris. "We would find nothing."

  "Have you thought of a way to trap it yet?" asked Lannon.

  "Yes," said Taris, "but I'm not going to reveal it to you."

  "Why not?" asked Lannon, not liking the strange look on Taris' face.

  "Your mind may not be entirely your own," said Taris. "You've had contact with the beast, and it might have played a trick on you."

  "What sort of trick?" asked Lannon, appalled.

  "A trick of sorcery," said Taris. "But I c
annot know for sure. Until then, I can reveal nothing. But Jace and I have worked on some ideas."

  Jace winked at Lannon. "Fear not, my young friend. That Wolf won't escape us indefinitely. I know how to trap Goblins--even the nastiest ones. I wrote the book on Goblins, remember?"

  Lannon managed a smile, remembering his favorite book The Truth about Goblins. He still had the shabby old book, though he hadn't opened it in a long time. The book had never specifically mentioned a creature like the Wolf, however.

  Jace raised his eyebrows. "I sense your doubt, Lannon. Actually, my book does mention the Five Horrors, as I named them. The Greater Dragons, the Phantoms, the Demons, the Fiends, and the Greater Goblins. That last category is where you will find your stalker. While it's true that I don't get into specifics, there is some sound advice in that book. You may want to crack it open again."

  Everyone fell silent, and Lannon took the book from his pack. It was nearly falling apart. The faded cover art depicted a mythical Fairy Dragon perched on a mushroom with human skulls and pieces of armor laying on the ground. Lannon could have simply asked Jace for advice, but he didn't feel like talking and this gave him an excuse to glance at his favorite book once more. Lannon scanned the table of contents and found the chapter concerning the Five Horrors. He found the Greater Goblin section and read it:

  There are a number of greater beasts found in the Realm of Tharnin and in our realm as well. How many, you ask? Well, perhaps you ask too many questions! Do you honestly think I know all the answers to everything? No, I do not. But I do know these beasts come in various shapes and sizes, and all of them are quite cunning. They are also unusually determined (kind of like your wonderful author here).

  Oh, I can't be bothered to explain that fanaticism in detail. Some would call it insanity, but rest assured (always rest assured when I am giving advice) ... rest assured that these Greater Goblins are NOT insane. In fact, the Noracks, Birlotes, and Olrogs are more insane than these beasts who are driven by personalities our simple minds cannot grasp. Simply because we cannot understand what motivates them does not mean they're crazed halfwits. However, they are unstable (to us) because we cannot predict their actions.

  It is positively dreadful (DREADFUL) when some unfortunate soul ends up in the clutches of a Greater Goblin. And by that I mean: being stalked. If you have a Greater Goblin sniffing around your campsite, well, my friend, I feel deep pity for you! They will haunt you until you come to ruin. Yes, some will simply attack right out of the gate (or cave, which is more likely), but others will toy with you like a Tree Goblin does with a sorry little leaf snake. So what can you do?

  Set a trap, of course. Dig a hole. Pray to your god. Have some cheese. Drink some wine (if you're of such weak character that you must mask your troubles with spirits--goodness knows I've had my share in times of weakness). Now where was I? My ink bottle is running out, unfortunately, but I want to finish this report. It is, after all, a report, is it not? I am reporting a bit of news for your benefit. Anyway, running out of ink. As I said, you must set a trap--or more than one, if you're to have any success. Keep trying to trap that beast, even as it thinks it has YOU trapped. Use yourself as bait, then laugh heartily when it dies in your snare.

  Ah, dirty Goblins! I've run out of...

  Lannon closed the book and sighed. How was he supposed to set all these traps and use himself as bait? Couldn't Jace have been a bit more specific? Apparently he'd forgotten to finish the section after acquiring more ink, as the book moved on to a new topic past that point. Regardless, Lannon knew this was meant to be vague, as circumstances were different for each individual and his stalker.

  As evening approached, Vannas and Lothrin took to arguing. The prince was angry because Lothrin had been riding too close to him. "Keep your distance!" Vannas snarled at him, hand on his sword hilt. "I don't want you to accidentally seize the White Flamestone again."

  "You treat me like a common thief!" Lothrin snarled back. "Your own cousin. And all because of an incident I had no control over."

  "No control?" said Vannas. "So you claim."

  "It is the truth," said Lothrin. "Taris has accepted that, so why can't you?"

  "Taris doesn't know you as well as I do," said Vannas.

  Lannon wondered why Taris didn't speak up. The sorcerer was close enough to hear what they were saying, but he rode on in silence. Jace and the other Knights seemed to ignore the situation as well, content to let the Grey Keepers handle their own affairs. It was a sign that Lannon and his friends were now being treated as Knights, which made Vannas' childish behavior all the more embarrassing. Lannon believed that Lothrin had told the truth about sleepwalking, but the prince refused to even consider the possibility of Lothrin's innocence. Lannon wanted to grab Vannas and shake some sense into him.

  "I've heard enough from you two," said Aldreya, glaring at them. "I want you both to ignore each other until you can make peace."

  Lothrin bowed. "As you wish. I am ready to make peace anytime our prince will agree to it. I never wanted a quarrel in the first place."

  Vannas' eyes widened. "So, Aldreya, you would treat a prince of Borenthia like a child? I must take issue with that."

  Aldreya hesitated, her eyes doubtful. Then her lips tightened. "Taris has placed me in charge, and you will obey."

  Vannas glared at her. "I question your leadership."

  Aldreya glanced at Lannon. She seemed uncertain of what to do, and Lannon felt pity for her. She'd been raised to have deep respect and loyalty for Borenthia's princes, and Taris had placed her in a very tough position.

  "Then you question Taris' leadership as well," said Lannon. "If he placed Aldreya in charge, ignoring her commands would be the same as ignoring his. Are you prepared to do that, Prince Vannas?"

  Vannas hesitated, then forced a smile. "Of course not, Lannon. You know me better than that. I was just testing her."

  "Test me again," said Aldreya, "and I will take the issue to Taris. Is that understood?"

  The prince bowed. "Do what you must."

  ***

  They camped that night on a hill close to the Watchmen's Keep--the same hill they had camped upon the last time Lannon had visited the ancient tower. After they had feasted on venison and bread and gathered in their tents for the evening, Lannon wondered if Taris would summon him again to explore the keep. The sight of the tower rising up above the trees in the moonlight had stirred longing within him. He wanted to test his skills again and see if he could unlock the Glaetherin safe at the tower's peak that seemed to hold so many secrets. Lannon lay awake for hours, waiting, but Taris never showed.

  At one point Lannon must have drifted off, for he found himself in a dream where a shadow was stalking him. He was fleeing through a forest, his heart pounding in his ears, and something dark and huge crashed through the underbrush behind him. No matter how fast he ran, the thing chasing him was drawing closer--until at last it caught him. A large, rugged paw pinned him to the earth and a disembodied voice whispered in his mind, "It is time to feed me!"

  Lannon awoke, knowing it was indeed time. He was awake but somehow still in a dream, as if partially submerged. He felt detached from reality, but it wasn't the Eye of Dreams this time. It was something else. He'd left his old self behind and embraced a new life, and he had no regrets. His old way of living seemed like folly. He sneered at the man he'd once been. He had a wonderful purpose now--a master to serve--and that was all he needed in life.

  Everyone else in the tent was asleep, and Lannon grabbed his gear and crept outside. As usual, four Knights were guarding the tent. They glanced at Lannon questioningly. Lannon felt deep annoyance at the sight of these warriors, knowing they would focus on his every move. He was allowed to leave his tent, of course, but what he was about to do was sure to raise suspicions. But then he remembered he was very important now, and the guards would obey him. His master's voice was whispering in his mind, giving him instructions.

  "This is Eye of Divinity business," sa
id Lannon, gazing at them sternly. "I need to take a little walk--alone--and do a few things."

  "Stay where we can see you, then," one of them answered. "That's the latest order from Taris Warhawk, mind you. And try to make it quick."

  "I'm just going down the hill," said Lannon, "by the trees." He pointed to the valley below. "I require some provisions from the wagons."

  The Knights looked puzzled, but motioned him along. Lannon was glad Shennen wasn't with them, or surely he would have been detained and questioned extensively. He hurried off and gathered some food in a cart--meat from a spit and several loaves of bread. He took two jugs of Birlote wine from a wagon and a large bowl. Meanwhile, the four Knights watched him with baffled and concerned expressions. With the small cart filled with food and drink, Lannon smiled at the guards and then pushed it along down the hillside. He knew the Knights were debating whether or not to alert Taris, but he didn't care. As long as he was able to accomplish his mission, what happened after that meant little to him.

  Lannon gazed up at the Watchmen's Keep that rose above the treetops and hills. It looked dark and sinister in the moonlight, and he wondered how he could ever have considered it his home. That was part of his old life--a life spent serving the Divine Essence and being bound by the Sacred Laws. He was free of such folly now, and the tower only represented ugliness to him and war against the Deep Shadow. He hoped it would collapse into rubble and bury its secrets forever.

  When Lannon neared a mighty oak tree at the base of the hill--an oak that had lived through the rise and fall of kingdoms--he could sense a welcome presence lurking behind it. His master hid there, waiting to be fed--a huge shadow with a drooling mouth. Two great black paws were stretched around the enormous oak, resting on gnarled roots.

  Lannon laid down the bowl and filled it with wine.

  "You feast is prepared, Master," he whispered.

  The grinning Wolf peered around the oak. "You have done well, Lannon. You took the wine from Shennen Silverarrow's wagon. His rage will be fierce when he discovers it missing."