Knights: Legends of Ollanhar

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Knights: Legends of Ollanhar Page 14

by Robert E. Keller


  "Greetings," said Lannon, nodding.

  They didn't nod back.

  "What are you doing in our house?" one of them asked.

  "This is your house?" said Lannon. "I thought it was abandoned."

  "It belonged to my grandfather," the Hill Dwarf said. "He's dead, but the house is mine to look after.

  "And I'm sure you've done a fine job," said Lannon.

  "Are you mocking me?" the Malrog asked. He put a rock in his sling and twirled it a couple of times.

  "Not at all," said Lannon. "We're just headed back to the road, where we will resume our journey."

  "Well, why were you here?" another Hill Dwarf asked. "Nothing in that old house but moss and acorns. You must be spies or thieves looking for treasure."

  "We don't want your treasure," said Jerret. "I was just wandering around, and then Lannon came looking for me. That's the whole story."

  "Says you," one of them muttered. "And why should we believe it? I think we should take you deep into the hills and put you to rest."

  "Put us to rest?" said Lannon. "What does that mean?"

  "It means kill us," said Jerret, obviously. He drew his broadsword.

  The Dwarves' grim faces didn't change expression. One of them said, "Outsiders don't fare well in these hills. But we like to give everyone a fair chance. So hand over everything, even your clothes. We want it all. Then we'll let you go back to the road. That's the toll we demand for sneaking around on our property."

  "You're dreaming," said Jerret, "if you think we're going to give up our goods. You'll have to take them by force."

  "Not a problem," a Dwarf said. "But if we have to do that, the price will be steeper. You'll have to be put to rest."

  Lannon hesitated, wondering how to avoid a fight.

  "Um, Lannon?" Jerret mumbled. "You're not seriously thinking of complying just to avoid violence?"

  Lannon drew his sword. "Of course not, Jerret. Don't be silly. No one is taking my sword. Or my clothes, for that matter."

  "Never doubted you at all," said Jerret, looking sheepish.

  "Think carefully, boys," a Dwarf said.

  "We could make a deal," said Lannon. "I am willing to offer ten silver pieces in compensation for trespassing. That's a lot of silver for such a minor crime. I would prefer that we part ways peacefully."

  "We'll get your silver anyway," a Dwarf said. "All of it."

  "You don't want this," another Dwarf said. He spat in the leaves. "Go naked to the road. Your goods don't matter."

  "Not going to happen," said Lannon.

  The Hill Dwarves glanced at each other, then twirled their slings. Their stones flew at Lannon and Jerret.

  Lannon deflected two of the stones and Jerret took out the other two with his burning broadsword. Lannon pulled the stone from his pocket and hurled it at one of the Dwarves, using his power to guide it to its target. It struck the Dwarf in the forehead and he toppled over, unconscious.

  Enraged, the other Dwarves drew thick, curved short swords and charged.

  Lannon seized the first Dwarf to reach him and hurled him against the crooked house, causing the ancient structure to collapse.

  "Wonderful," Lannon muttered, as he glanced at the pile of boards that had once been a house.

  The other Dwarves paused, their eyes wide.

  "Another ten silver for the loss of the house?" Lannon asked, still hoping to make a deal.

  Then the Dwarves did something unexpected. They seized their injured companions and hurried off down the hill.

  "That was strange," said Jerret, as the Malrogs vanished from view amongst the tree trunks.

  "I think they're regrouping," said Lannon. "They'll probably come back in greater numbers. We need to leave here quickly."

  Jerret nodded. "They'll definitely return."

  "I think you started a war," said Lannon, glaring at him.

  "Sorry," said Jerret, shrugging. "I didn't mean to. And it was you who knocked down the house."

  "I refuse to take the blame for this," said Lannon. "You should never have come here. We're deep in these hills, surrounded by probably thousands of Dwarves, and you had to find a way to provoke them."

  "You sound angry, Lannon," said Jerret.

  "I am angry," said Lannon. "This was irresponsible. Divine Knights do not go looking for fights. We treat people with respect."

  "Even these warty savages?" asked Jerret.

  "Yes, all people," said Lannon. He sighed. "All we had to do was stay on the road and they would leave us alone. I think you did this because you want a war--even if it costs people their lives."

  "I love a good fight," said Jerret, "but I don't want anyone to die. Why shouldn't I be able to take a walk in the hills? Should I live in fear of offending people? If those drunken savages want a fight, we'll give them one. And I'm not a Divine Knight, so stop lecturing me on what Divine Knights do or don't do."

  Lannon sighed. "Why do I bother?"

  "Bother with what?" asked Jerret.

  "Bother trying to reason with you," Lannon replied.

  "We better hurry," said Jerret. "These hills are soon to be crawling with angry Malrogs. And with my sore ankle, I'm not at full strength. If they come for us, Lannon, you'll have to do most of the fighting."

  Again, Lannon glared at him.

  ***

  But the Malrogs didn't return that day, and after Jerret received a stern lecture from Aldreya and a temporary pay cut, the ride through the hills was peaceful. The light rain faded out, and patches of blue sky appeared through the clouds here and there. The wind picked up, rustling the colorful treetops.

  Lannon was confident the Hill Dwarves had decided to let them pass. After all, the old house had been ready to collapse anyway, and it had been an accident. Surely they wouldn't go to war over something so petty. And there were others in the hills right now who needed to be watched--Ethella and her warriors, and possibly the Blue Vultures if they were still following. The Dwarves would have their hands full guarding their homes against those servants of evil.

  When Lannon revealed his thoughts to Jace, the sorcerer disagreed with him emphatically.

  "You assume the Malrogs are reasonable," said Jace. "Don't assume that. They don't think like you. They will want some heavy toll as compensation, and if they don't get it, they will try to claim vengeance. Before we leave these hills, we will have to confront them."

  "But what about the other distractions?" said Lannon.

  "If Bellis and the Blue Vultures are following," said Jace, "then all they have to do is stay on the road to avoid trouble." He sighed. "That's all we would have needed to do. But we didn't. Now we must pay the price."

  "Surely they can't defeat us," said Lannon.

  Jace shrugged. "If they band together into an army, they could overpower us with their numbers. I suppose it would depend on Prince Vannas and the White Flamestone. But it would be a brutal fight regardless, with many dead and wounded. A terrible thing, especially since it could have easily been avoided. But there is a good chance they will try something sneaky instead. These aren't dumb savages we're dealing with. They know we're not ordinary travelers, and they will proceed with caution. They've already witnessed your strength, Lannon."

  "That was a mistake," Lannon said sheepishly. "I wasn't trying to knock down the house."

  "But you did," said Jace. "And we will pay for it."

  ***

  The next day, Jace's words turned out to be true. As the travelers approached a stone bridge covered in vines that spanned a river, they encountered an army of Hill Dwarves with hammers, spears, and crossbows who were guarding the bridge. If that wasn't enough, they also had three small, loaded catapults ready to launch steel balls in an instant. The Malrogs seemed ready to explode into battle--barely able to contain themselves. They craved bloodshed. Their faces showed murderous rage, and they pointed the crossbows at the Knights.

  Lannon and Aldreya rode forward to talk to them.

  A Dwarven Elder
rode forth to meet them. He was so ancient that his long hair and beard were white as snow--which for a Dwarf meant he was hundreds of years old. He wore a plain brown cloak and carried a twisted oak staff. He looked like a wizard, though sorcery was not practiced by the Malrogs.

  "I am Henati," said the Dwarven Elder. His eyes smoldered with pride. "The Wisdom of the Hills and the Oldest of the Highland Clan. You outsiders have violated our scared laws and destroyed one of our precious dwellings. You must compensate us fairly by handing over all your money and goods. However, in our great generosity we will allow you to keep your horses and wagons, and your clothing. We will also spare your food and drink--except for your ale."

  "Your demands are unfair," said Aldreya. "All of our goods and treasure for a shoddy old house? It's ridiculous."

  "It had value to us beyond money," Henati replied, his face passive. "Something outsiders like you wouldn't understand. Our dwellings are sacred and must be allowed to return to the earth naturally. If you won't give up your goods, then you must hand him over to us." His hand trembling, the ancient Dwarf pointed at Lannon. Though his body was a bit unsteady with age, his face was hard and his eyes determined. "We will punish this lawbreaker as we see fit."

  "You would murder me," said Lannon. "Tell the truth."

  "The punishment would be fair," said Henati, shrugging.

  "We reject your demands," said Aldreya. "Do as you will, but bear in mind that we're Divine Knights from Dremlock Kingdom. You cannot defeat us in battle. Are you prepared to see so many of your people die over a rotting house? Think carefully."

  Henati gazed at her piercingly. "You harbor a secret. You possibly bear a mighty weapon--something hidden. I see it in your eyes."

  "Yes," said Aldreya. "A weapon that can burn your people to ash. Since you know I speak the truth, why not accept lesser compensation for the dwelling? We are willing to pay you thirty silver pieces."

  "Thirty silver is not enough," said Henati. "I do not fear your weapon, if in fact it actually exists. We are ready to die, if need be. And I've seen such weapons before, and it will not be effective at close range--just as our catapults are rendered useless once friend and foe are mixed on the battlefield."

  "You're wrong," said Aldreya, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "What need is there for bloodshed? Take the silver and let us pass."

  Henati sat in silence for a few moments. Then he said, "It is not enough. If you want to cross this bridge, you must either surrender your goods or surrender the lawbreaker for punishment. The choice is yours. And don't think you can find another way across. The river is deep and the current strong. You would be washed away to ruin, and lose everything regardless."

  With that, the Elder rode back to his army.

  ***

  While they contemplated the situation, the Knights set up camp in the road. They discovered that Ethella and her soldiers were camped less than a mile away from them--boldly visible along the road, the flags of Bellis flying high in the fall breeze. Ethella seemed thoroughly confident that the Divine Knights would not attack, and she was right. With so many Hill Dwarves ready to go to war (and the Blue Vultures still possibly lurking somewhere along the road), Ollanhar's warriors were surrounded by enemies. They dared not strike the first blow.

  "Our situation is perilous," said Aldreya. "If both the Malrogs and Bellis attack us at the same time, we could be defeated."

  They sat around a campfire, drinking tea.

  "Why would Bellis attack?" said Jace. "Aren't they hoping we'll obtain the Green Flamestone so they can steal it from us?" The sorcerer's teacup looked laughably tiny in his huge, bony hand. His extravagant purple cloak was somewhat tattered and streaked with dust.

  "I don't know," said Aldreya. "Is that their plan? Or do they simply want to destroy us? It would be quite a gamble for them to allow us to claim the Green Flamestone."

  "Yet King Verlamer is unpredictable," said Lannon. "He is not afraid to take extreme risks--like challenging me to a duel just to boost his fame. It's impossible to know what he is thinking."

  "That's because he's a raving lunatic," said Daledus. The Grey Dwarf shunned tea in favor of a strong, black coffee. The beans he used to brew it were expensive, and coffee was typically only consumed by Olrogs. He took a sip and frowned. "Too weak. I should have been more generous with the beans."

  "Weak swill or strong swill," said Jace. "Makes no difference. That coffee you drink will never be popular with the Noracks or Birlotes of the land. It is too bitter. Perhaps if you added some milk and sugar. Even then, I can never see it catching on like tea has." Giving the Dwarf a smug look, Jace sipped his tea.

  Daledus shrugged. "I don't expect a Norack to understand. Your bellies are weak, and your food and drink is bland. Even your pipe leaf is tasteless."

  "Let's stay on topic here," said Bekka.

  "I fear this will end in terrible bloodshed," said Aldreya. "The Hill Dwarves are extremely stubborn and territorial. They will fight to the death, believing they are defending their land from outsiders."

  "I share your fears," said Prince Vannas. "I am expected to do most of the killing. I don't relish the thought of turning so many people to ash. I will do my duty as a Divine Knight, of course. But I pray we can avoid bloodshed."

  "That's a first," said Lothrin, as he sharpened his Flayer. "Usually you're eager to put that Flamestone to use."

  "I'm never eager to kill," said Vannas, his eyes flashing with anger. "Are you suggesting that I enjoy causing destruction?"

  Lothrin shrugged. "Sometimes it seems that way."

  "Well, it isn't that way," said the prince. "And I would appreciate you keeping such opinions to yourself."

  "No one here wants to kill," said Lannon. "We all want peace."

  "Speak for yourself," Jerret muttered.

  "That's enough, Jerret," said Aldreya. "Your desire for combat is what has put us in this dire situation. You're reckless and irresponsible, and you don't seem to care who gets hurt in the process. I'm having doubts about this mercenary business. You seem to be more trouble than you're worth."

  Galandra and Brakthas glanced at each other.

  "I'm speaking only of Jerret," said Aldreya, "and not you two. I'm happy to have you serving Ollanhar."

  "Thank you," said Galandra. "And we're happy to be here."

  "I'm happy to be here as well," said Jerret. "I want to finish this quest and earn some money. I'm sorry for my mistake."

  "Are you?" asked Aldreya. "I have my doubts."

  "Let's not argue about this," said Lannon. "What's done is done, and Jerret at least is trying to express regret. Right now we need all the warriors we can get, and Jerret is one of the best. Let's move on."

  "Thank you, my friend," said Jerret, nodding to Lannon.

  "I'm not giving you a pass, Jerret," said Lannon. "I'm still angry over what you did, and it better not happen again."

  "It won't," Jerret promised. "I'm changing my ways. I want to serve Ollanhar and Dremlock for a long time to come. Since I can no longer be a Knight, the life of a mercenary is all that's left for me. I don't want to waste this opportunity and have to go work on a fishing boat or something."

  "What's wrong with fishing?" asked Brakthas. "It's an honest living, and no one gets killed. Usually."

  "That's not for me," said Jerret. "I worked hard to obtain what skills I have. I want to make my living by the sword. And having friends who have provided me with employment is a true blessing. I'm going to follow the rules and bring glory to Ollanhar and Dremlock."

  Lannon raised his eyebrows. "That's a good attitude, Jerret. I'm glad to hear you're having such a change of heart."

  Vorden extended his hand to Jerret. "You're gaining wisdom, old friend. There is hope for you yet."

  Jerret shook it. "I'm just seeing reality for once."

  Though Jerret sounded sincere, Aldreya wasn't convinced. "Talk is cheap, Jerret. You must prove yourself with actions."

  "I will," said Jerre
t. "Without a doubt."

  "I hope so," said Aldreya, "or you won't have the blessing of employment for very long. Is that understood?"

  Jerret bowed. "Absolutely, your Green Knightedness."

  "Enough of this," said Daledus. "The Malrogs could attack us at any moment. We need to decide how we're going to proceed."

  "I have an idea," said Lannon. "I think I should surrender to them. Temporarily. They can take me prisoner, while the rest of you move on. Once you're beyond the Oldermar Hills, I will escape and catch up with you." He waited for the negative reactions that were certain to follow.

  "Very noble of you, Lannon," said Jerret. "But I'm the reason for this problem we face, and I can't let you risk your life over my foolishness."

  "I will not agree to that!" Dallsa said, her eyes wide. "Too dangerous. We need to stay together, no matter what happens."

  "There would be great risk," said Daledus. "The Hill Dwarves are cunning and powerful. If you surrender, they will take your irreplaceable sword--and what is a Dark Watchman without his sword? You could perish."

  "Not necessarily," said Lannon. "I've learned to fight fairly well without a weapon. And we could switch my sword for a lesser one."

  "You can take mine," said Prince Vannas. "It is expensive, but nothing that cannot be replaced. Not that I'm necessarily agreeing to this."

  "I don't like this idea at all," said Bekka, shaking her head. "If you surrender to them, Lannon, they will bind your hands. You will be totally at their mercy. And judging from their great anger, they will kill you slowly."

 

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