Knights: Legends of Ollanhar

by Robert E. Keller

  "I'll go," said Lannon. "And if possible, I will avoid a fight. I'm not the type to antagonize someone."

  "It doesn't matter," said Doomar. "The giant will antagonize you, if he's so inclined. But if you stay quiet and humble, you should be able to avoid his wrath. If he demands a tax, pay it. I'll give you extra."

  Lannon nodded. "I will do my best to preserve peace in Callaboren. Just finish your meal and get some rest, Doomar."

  ***

  The next day, Lannon left Doomar's home with a bag of silver. The town of Callaboren was large enough that Bellis had taken an interest it, with many streets lined with shops, inns, and taverns. The townsfolk mostly consisted of dark-skinned people known as Aramats--forest dwellers who had once been bitter enemies of the Malrogs. They were kind, noble, and intelligent and took great interest in science and mathematics. They worshipped forest gods in large stone temples located in the wooded hills beyond their town.

  The Aramats were exceedingly friendly, greeting Lannon with smiles and nods as he walked the streets. They wore colorful robes. The men were bald and the women had orange braids. Lannon found the village to be very pleasant--except for a nervous feel that hung in the air, no doubt the result of the giant's presence. Some of the townsfolk whispered to each other as they glanced at him.

  Then one of the women stopped before him--a girl in her late teens with a worried look. She brushed her orange braids from her eyes, peering at Lannon with dire concern. She spoke to him in a strange language.

  Lannon summoned the Eye, and her words were revealed.

  "You seem to be wandering," she said. "An outsider wandering aimlessly is sure to attract suspicion from the giant Gralladus. If you need directions, just ask. Can you understand what I'm saying? This town is no longer safe, because of Bellis Kingdom. You could get killed here."

  Lannon nodded. "Thanks for the advice."

  She shook her head. "I don't understand Norack speech. Many Aramats do, but I never learned it. I suppose I never had the patience to learn it. But I'm glad you understand me. So what are you seeking here?"

  "Beef," he said. When she didn't respond, he said, "Cow."

  She shook her head.

  Lannon drew a cow in the dirt, then pretended to lift it to his mouth. "Cow," he said, pointing at it. "Meat."

  "Meat," she repeated, in his language. "I do know that word. There is a butcher shop down that street." She pointed. "It is good that you have a purpose here. If you encounter Gralladus, explain your mission and then do as he says."

  Lannon nodded. He gave her a smile.

  She smiled back, but still looked quite concerned.

  It was a sunny fall day, with the smell of wood smoke drifting through the town. Lannon would have loved to wander around and learn more about Callaboren and its people, but Doomar was waiting for his beef.

  Stone buildings adorned with vines and colorful, sacred symbols stood amongst the houses and shops. Each building displayed a "face" in the form of a single towering mask on one wall (usually on the wall that faced the street). Some of these faces were painted with bright colors, while others were entirely silver. Round doorways led into the buildings, and the smell of incense drifted out. Towering wooden statues of beasts that looked human from the waist down also stood here and there--some with hawk-like heads and others with the heads of bears, wolves, or fish. Baskets of fruit and bread lay at their feet.

  As Lannon started down the street toward the butcher shop, he happened upon Gralladus the giant. The towering figure was seated in the road, feasting on a basket of turkeys. His face and fingers were dripping with grease, and he periodically lifted a huge wooden mug of beer to his lips. His icy blue eyes were full of arrogance. He wore fancy, colorful clothes, with his red tunic displaying the golden Crest of Bellis on the chest. A tattoo of a crimson sun adorned the giant's bald head. He was so massive he seemed to block off the street.

  Lannon paused. The giant didn't seem to take notice of him. The townsfolk had abandoned this street, and Lannon could have slipped away like the others and waited for the giant to move on. But he was in a hurry.

  Lannon entered the shop.

  He purchased the beef--which cost a bit more than Doomar had anticipated--and then returned to the street. The giant was still eating turkey and drinking beer. Lannon glanced at him, then started off.

  "You there, halt!" came a rumbling command.

  Lannon turned around. "Can I help you?" He had almost made it, and he chastised himself for not moving faster.

  The giant nodded. "You're an outsider, obviously. That's a fine side of beef you have there. Should make you a tasty meal. But there are taxes to be paid in this town whenever a purchase is made. Such taxes are not paid to the shopkeepers--they are paid to me. I am the official tax collector here, as authorized by King Verlamer of Bellis."

  Lannon sighed. "How much do I owe?"

  "It's simple," said the giant. "Taxes are thirty percent of the purchase cost. I assume you can do math. If not, I'll calculate it for you."

  Lannon shook his head in disgust. "Thirty percent? Those are hardly fair taxes. How can anyone afford anything in this town?"

  The giant shrugged. "Don't like the taxes, put the beef back. By the way, I would also accept a third of the meat as payment."

  "I need all of it," said Lannon. "And I can't afford your tax. I'm sorry, but I must move on now. I have a sick friend in need."

  The giant wiped his mouth on his sleeve and rose. He approached Lannon, gazing down at him, a half-eaten turkey still in hand. "Are you challenging my authority? A Norack only half my height, daring to oppose me? I'll snap your neck if you disobey. Now either pay up, or take that beef right back into the shop. Last warning!" He took a bite of turkey and then flung the carcass aside.

  Lannon shook his head. "Sorry, but I cannot comply." He could have fled, but it might have brought trouble to Doomar.

  The Thallite swung his huge fist at Lannon, but the Dark Watchman dodged it. The giant then tried to grab him, to no avail.

  Gralladus frowned. "You're a quick one. But I'm not defeated. I will simply demand that everyone pay for your greed." He raised his hands to his mouth and bellowed, "Come to me, people of Callaboren! Come forth and pay your taxes--three silver for each household! If you avoid me, I will come to your homes and extract a grim price!" He shouted some more dire warnings.

  Lannon didn't think the townsfolk would obey, but to his surprise they gathered in the street, silver in hand. Their heads bowed, they came forward and laid their coins at the giant's feet.

  Gralladus gazed smugly at Lannon. "See how they obey me? They crawl to my feet at the mere sound of my voice. They would rather go hungry than refuse to pay me, for they know my power."

  "This is pure theft," said Lannon. "Aren't you ashamed?"

  The giant shook his head. "You should have paid your tax. This is all your fault, little man. You should feel terrible about this."

  "Actually, this evil is your doing," said Lannon. "You're blindly obeying King Verlamer. Can't you think for yourself?"

  Gralladus waved him away. "I serve my king by free will, for he is wise and generous. Now go enjoy your beef. Savor every bite, knowing that others cannot eat dinner today because of you. Three silver is a lot to these people, and you have cheated them out of it."

  Anger gripped Lannon. He sat the beef down on a porch. "I can't let you get away with such thievery. This issue must be settled."

  The giant again waved him away. "I don't want to fight you. You're not a lawman and have no authority here. I have paperwork to prove my authority. You have your precious beef, so stop bothering me and go away. Unless, that is, you're a lawbreaker who doesn't respect legal authority."

  Lannon hesitated, unsure of what to do. He had assured Doomar he would avoid a fight, but something had to be done about this.

  "Go on, little man," said the giant. "Run along and fill your greedy belly." He turned his back to Lannon. He started humming a merry tune as he
gathered up his silver, stuffing his deep pockets.

  Lannon's annoyance grew. At last he seized the giant's arm. "I demand that you return their silver!"

  "No," said the giant, pulling away from him. "It belongs to King Verlamer now. Let these fools starve. Little folk are inferior beings anyway, like worthless insects that need to be stomped into slime."

  But Lannon wasn't about to give up. "By the authority of Dremlock Kingdom, I am taking you prisoner for the crime of theft."

  "Dremlock has no authority here," said the giant. "You are far from Silverland, oh foolish Knight."

  "I bring the authority with me," said Lannon.

  The giant moved his face close to Lannon. "Go ahead and strike me, then. Give it your best. Break my nose, if you can--and if it makes you feel good to do so. So who's the thief here? I think it's you, little man."

  Lannon hesitated. He had never encountered someone like this. It wasn't his way to attack a foe who refused to fight, but what else could he do? If he walked away, the townsfolk would go hungry.

  The people stood watching from a distance.

  "This discussion is over, Gralladus," said Lannon. "Give them back the silver or I'll take it by force."

  The Thallite's eyes widened. "So you are a thief!" He hurled Lannon away from him with such force that only the Eye saved Lannon from a host of broken bones. The Dark Watchman struck a wagon and left much of it in pieces. Lannon lay stunned for a moment, then rose.

  "Be gone, wretch!" the giant bellowed at him.

  Instead, Lannon charged the Thallite and struck him in the stomach with his fist. The giant doubled over in pain.

  "Return the silver," Lannon commanded.

  In response, the giant swung a mighty fist at Lannon's head--a fist that could have smashed through bricks. But Lannon ducked the blow and punched the giant again, this time delivering a stronger impact.

  Winded, the giant gasped for breath. "This is nothing but a...a brutal assault from a...sorry...rogue..."

  Lannon tried to reach into the giant's pockets, but the Thallite again shoved him away viciously--this time into a thick wooden post. The post snapped in two. The townsfolk looked horrified, thinking Lannon was finished.

  Sighing, Lannon rose from the ground. He lifted the broken post and charged the Thallite, swinging it at his head. The giant seized the post in one hand and ripped it from Lannon's grasp, then swung it back at the Dark Watchman with such speed and fury that he almost made contact. Lannon barely dodged the blow.

  They circled each other, as the crowd looked on.

  "You started this," said the giant. "Now I shall end it!" He launched a flurry of blows at Lannon, one of which caught his shoulder. Though the Eye shielded him to some extent, the blow was so vicious that Lannon's shoulder was damaged by the impact. He found he could barely move his arm.

  The giant raised the club to finish Lannon, but Lannon kicked him in the shin, causing the Thallite to lower his weapon and hop in pain for a moment. Lannon struck out with his good arm and again connected with the giant's stomach. The giant backed off, again gasping for breath.

  Lannon rubbed his shoulder. "This is ridiculous. Just give back the silver."

  "You'll have to steal it, thief," the giant replied.

  Lannon moved in on his foe again, and this time he swatted the club from the giant's hand, sending it flying onto a rooftop. He went for the Thallite's pocket, but the giant got him in a bear hug and tried to crush his bones. Only the Eye saved Lannon from being squeezed into oblivion in that monstrous grasp. Unable to crush Lannon, the giant flung him down the street. Lannon toppled head over heals before lying still in a dusty heap.

  Lannon rose, knowing he needed to act quickly. He was exhausted and the Eye was running low on energy. Another severe impact might end his fight.

  This was it. He needed to finish this.

  Summoning what energy he still had, Lannon charged in and caught the giant's nose with a solid punch that rocked the Thallite's head back.

  The giant's eyes widened in disbelief as he clutched his bleeding nose. He slumped down in the street, barely conscious.

  "Finish me, Knight of Dremlock," he mumbled.

  Lannon nodded. He raised his fist. "The silver, or another blow!"

  "Take it, then," the giant muttered, emptying his pockets. "Take it all and be gone with you." He shook off the dizziness and rose on shaky legs. "I will report this to King Verlamer, and this town will be punished."

  The crowd groaned. Some of them glared at Lannon. Some shook their heads in despair. All of them refused to touch the silver.

  Lannon was disgusted with himself. What had he just done? Now surely the townsfolk would suffer all the more. Even killing the giant wouldn't help, as that would just provoke King Verlamer's anger to a greater degree. He realized there had been no path to victory in this situation. His desire to help Doomar and resume his journey had cost the townsfolk dearly.

  "This quest had better succeed," Lannon whispered to himself. If they could obtain the Green Flamestone, perhaps there was hope for these people. Meanwhile, they would surely face terrible hardships.

  His heart full of weariness, and feeling frustrated with himself, Lannon lifted the side of beef and trudged off down the road.

  ***

  Over the next couple of days, Lannon cooked beef for Doomar and nursed him back to health. Doomar's constitution was mighty even by Dwarven standards, and he was soon up and moving about. Now that Doomar could care for himself, Lannon knew it was time to move on.

  They had just eaten a lunch of beef stew and biscuits and were seated in the living room, when Lannon informed the Dwarf of his decision. "I need to find my companions and can afford no further delays."

  "Of course," said Doomar. The somber Dwarf bowed his head, looking glum. "Knightly business. But there will be no protection from Dremlock here in Callaboren. After your conflict with the giant, taxes are sure to increase even more, and I can barely afford to stay in business as it is."

  Lannon lowered his gaze. "I should have listened to you. But you needed that beef, so I didn't want to surrender it." Lannon had already apologized for his mistake, but the guilt remained.

  "I will admit the truth," said Doomar, looking sheepish. "I could have healed without the beef. I'm sure it helped strengthen me, but actually, I was just craving it. I regret ever sending you into town. My desire for meat has caused much trouble. If my business closes, how will I eat? I'm deeply worried, Lannon, and not just for myself. I fear for the wonderful, peaceful Aramats."

  "I want Callaboren to be free," said Lannon. "But right now Bellis Kingdom is too powerful to oppose. I need to complete my mission."

  The strange Dwarf leaned back in his chair, looking defeated. His black eyes appeared haunted and full of regrets. Lannon could only guess at what was gnawing at his soul. Again, he wondered how much abuse Doomar had suffered over the years. Yet he was still an honorable man, and that spoke highly of his strength of will and good character. Doomar had the potential to be a Divine Knight, but of course Dremlock seldom recruited adults.

  Yet Lannon was the High Watchman of Ollanhar. Surely he was allowed to recruit any Squire who seemed worthy. He had recruited Dallsa--who had been nearly a grown woman at the time--and no one had interfered. Doomar was immensely strong, if nothing else, and clearly a skilled blacksmith.

  "You could work for me," said Lannon. "For my kingdom. I need a competent blacksmith at Ollanhar. I have a forge below my tower, but no one occupies it. It could be yours to command."

  "But I'm not a Knight," said Doomar.

  "I can recruit you as a Squire," said Lannon. "Eventually you could obtain Knighthood, or you could simply remain our blacksmith. Either way, the pay would be good and you would stay busy."

  "But this is my home," said Doomar, looking around. "What would become of it? Who would look after it? My mother died here, and I was always very loyal to her." He pointed to a painting of a stocky Malrog woman on the wall. "She wo
uldn't want me to leave. She didn't even like it when I left the house. She..." He shook his head. "I know I sound ridiculous."

  "Not at all," said Lannon, feeling pity for the Dwarf.

  Doomar sighed. "I would feel guilty for moving out. Mother always feared for me, that others would hurt me. I want to go, Lannon. I'm very lonely here. People only come for weapons or repairs, but much of the time I'm alone. What you offer sounds wonderful. Yet...how could I do that to Mother?"

  "But she's dead," said Lannon. "And you're an adult now. You have your own life to lead. You should do what makes you happy."

  "I can't betray Mother!" said Doomar, his eyes wide. His knuckles were white as he gripped the arms of his chair. He sat in silence for several moments, as if thinking it over. Then he said, "I'm sorry, Lannon."

  Lannon rose and patted him on the shoulder. "I understand. Do what you must. If you change your mind, make the journey to Silverland and go to Ollanhar Tower. Tell them I have offered you a position as a Squire, and they will take you in. Otherwise, I wish you luck."

  Lannon started toward the door.

  "Wait," said Doomar. "Wait just a moment, please."

  Lannon turned. The huge Dwarf looked terrified. It was shocking to see so much fear in the eyes of such a powerful man.

  Doomar seemed to be waging some internal struggle. He rose and approached the picture of his mother. He stood before it.

  "Mother, I have to go," he said. "I...I want to make new friends and see new places. I can't just be here like you always wanted." Tears in his eyes, he bowed his head. "I won't let them hurt me out there. Not long ago I killed a man who tried to hurt me. Well, two men actually. I'm not proud of it, but it shows that I can look after myself. I hope you understand, Mother."

  Doomar turned toward Lannon. "I want to be a Squire."

  Lannon nodded. "Yet serving Ollanhar can be very dangerous, especially if you go where I'm going. We have many enemies seeking our destruction. I'll give you a bit more time if you want to think it over."

  Doomar shook his head. "No more waiting, Lannon. I'm ready. I will go wherever you're going, to whatever fate. The time is right."