Knights: Legends of Ollanhar

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Knights: Legends of Ollanhar Page 29

by Robert E. Keller


  Jerret paid her a visit. "What's on your mind?"

  She considered asking him to go away so she could continue to be alone with her thoughts, but then she realized she wanted his company. "Just pondering the fight. I kind of lost myself a bit. Some sort of...battle lust."

  Jerret grinned. "That's great to hear. You're really improving, Bekka. You were unstoppable today. You must feel very proud."

  "Not entirely," she said, frowning. "I don't want to sound weak, but I don't think I like what happened. I don't want to enjoy killing."

  "You're thinking too much," said Jerret. "Don't think, just split skulls and enjoy the action. We're fighters, Bekka. It's what we do. We're cleansing the land of evil. Every wretch we kill benefits the innocent. I take great pride in what I do. Sure it's a violent way of life, but it's necessary."

  "That's true," said Bekka. "Our cause is a noble one. That's not the issue." She shook her head. "Not sure I can explain it to you."

  "Then maybe it's not worth explaining," he said.

  "I fear the Deep Shadow," she said. "I fear it...and hate it."

  "Who doesn't?" said Jerret, looking confused.

  "It's still inside me," she went on. "Just like it's inside Vorden. He has to watch himself constantly so he doesn't succumb to it. I think I'm like him now. I don't have his weird abilities, but I'm facing the same problem."

  Jerret sighed. "I can't help you there. I just know you've become an impressive warrior, and I want it to continue."

  "It will," she promised. "I've earned my skills with hard work. I'm not going to let anything diminish what I've accomplished. I plan to keep advancing."

  Jerret swatted her on the back. "That's what I like to hear. Now let's go have some ale to celebrate what we did today. I'm ready for a drink."

  Bekka hesitated, then nodded. "I think that's exactly what I need right now--some ale to soothe my mind." She threw her arm around his shoulders and practically dragged the barbarian along. "Come, our drinks await us."

  ***

  Darkness had settled fully over the quiet lake, and the sky was filled with blazing stars. Lannon moved away from the crowd and gazed down at the dark water, wondering how deep it was. The others assumed there was no way to retrieve the White Flamestone, but Lannon wasn't so sure. The possibility existed that he could swim down and draw it up from the bottom with his power. But it would be a dangerous task and one he wasn't looking forward too.

  Aldreya approached and stood beside him. She gazed at him for a moment and then said, "And what happens if you drown? We will lose another mighty weapon, and our quest will be in even greater peril."

  "Did you just read my thoughts?" he asked. Aldreya had come so far with her sorcery she seemed capable of anything.

  "No," she said, smiling. "But they were easy to guess."

  "Yes, I could drown," Lannon said. "It really depends on how far down I have to go and how quickly I can locate the Flamestone. Is it worth it?"

  "That's the key question," said Aldreya. "I wish I had an answer. I know what Prince Vannas would say."

  Lannon sent the Eye into the water, probing the depths. "I think I can do it," he said at last. "But not in the dark. I'll decide tomorrow."

  Aldreya nodded. "I'm certain you will attempt it. But bear in mind that you may be as important as any Flamestone. It is you, Lannon, who makes King Verlamer fear the shadows. He dreads that you will come for him."

  "How do you know that?" asked Lannon.

  "Another easy guess," said Aldreya, smiling. "He is hoping you will die on this journey, before your power can reach its peak. Don't give him the satisfaction by taking dire risks. You are too important to lose."

  "You sound like Taris," said Lannon. He missed the elite sorcerer's presence. Taris always seemed to have answers, and though Aldreya was becoming more like him by the day, she wasn't quite there yet.

  "That is a great compliment," said Aldreya. She then bid Lannon goodnight and walked away.

  Lannon stood alone for about an hour. The battle had been bloody and many had died, but to Ethella and Bellis Kingdom it meant nothing. King Verlamer had an endless army to send against them. If Verlamer's goal now was simply to attack, they would see a lot more combat in the days ahead. Without the White Flamestone, many of his friends would surely perish. He couldn't let that happen. He would take the risk of swimming into the depths. He would seek to raise the Flamestone from its murky resting place--no matter how dangerous the task was--because without the stone there would be so much bloodshed. It was a devastating weapon, but it kept an uneasy peace--a peace that Lannon was obligated to restore at all costs.

  The Divine Knights and hired warriors had all survived, and under the relentless care of Dallsa they would heal. If Lannon could retrieve the White Flamestone, they would be ready for whatever troubles the future held. He sensed that far greater dangers awaited them on this quest than what they had encountered so far. They would need all the help they could get to succeed.

  Vorden approached. His head was heavily bandaged, but otherwise he seemed fine. His yellow eyes shone in the dark. "Lannon. How are you?"

  "Worried," said Lannon. "Very worried, I suppose."

  Vorden smiled. "Maybe this will improve your mood." Vorden handed Lannon his Dragon sword. "I really hate to surrender this."

  Lannon savored the feel of it in his hand. The weapon was like an old friend to Lannon and it brought him comfort.

  "Back to using my fists," said Vorden, sighing.

  Lannon drew the Glaetherin sword and handed it to him. "Not necessarily. This might withstand your fire."

  "Should I test it?" asked Vorden.

  "It might give away our position," said Lannon. It didn't seem wise to ignite a blazing fire in the dead of night.

  "So who is the oversized Dwarf?" Vorden pointed at Doomar, who was seated by the oars. "And why is he holding that painting?"

  "A new Squire," said Lannon. "He forged that sword you're holding." There was no point in explaining anything more about Doomar. The others would learn about his strange ways soon enough.

  Vorden raised his eyebrows. "Okay. We actually came through this in good shape, except for the loss of the White Flamestone. We have a lot of great fighters now. We defeated a strong force with skill alone."

  "It's not enough," said Lannon. "Without the Flamestone, we will be overwhelmed by King Verlamer's soldiers. We simply must find it."

  Vorden nodded. "We'll get it back."

  They stood in silence for a time. Then Vorden said, "You going to stand here all night? You must be exhausted. Get some sleep."

  "I'm not yet ready for sleep," said Lannon. He was far too restless for slumber. In fact, he wasn't sure he would sleep at all that night.

  Vorden nodded. "Well, goodnight. Tomorrow we'll find that Flamestone. Count on it." With that, he walked away.

  Lannon continued to stand there for a long time, wondering what fate had in store for him. As a Dark Watchman, he always walked alone. He had friends--ones who respected his power and accomplishments--but they didn't truly know him. His ways were strange to them. They were strange even to Dallsa, who seemed to understand Lannon better than anyone else. No one could fully comprehend his ways--except perhaps for another Dark Watchman.

  "Taith," he whispered, thinking of the boy for the first time in quite awhile. "I wonder how your training is going. What will become of us in the days ahead? Where will we both end up?"

  There were no answers in the still night air.

 

 

 


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