Knights The Hand of Tharnin

chapter 14: The Intruder

When the gathering of Knights finally assembled before the North Tower on a warm fall day, it was nearly two months after Jace had informed Lannon of the Council's decision. Lannon had been overwhelmed with the desire to start the journey, pacing about restlessly during the day and unable to sleep much at night. He'd been unable to focus on his training. The one thing that brought him peace of mind was that Taris' condition didn't seem to be getting any worse. The Tower Master's spirit remained strong, even if his body seemed terribly weak.

At last, the battalion was formed and ready to depart. It was a spectacular sight. The bulk of it consisted of two-hundred and twenty Knights on horseback. The banners of Dremlock Kingdom and the Divine Essence flapped in the fall breeze, while magnificent armor gleamed in the sunlight. There were sixty Red Knights with heavy lances--the battalion's front line--and forty Brown Knights, all swordsman who, unlike the Red Knights, carried shields. Also present were twenty Blue Knights, twenty White Knights brought along strictly for their healing skills, and sixty archers with pale, rune-covered longbows. And there were twenty Birlote sorcerers as well. Mixed in with this huge battalion were a number of siege engines in the care of the Brown Knights, including catapults and a giant crossbow. There were also a dozen Rangers hired for their hunting and tracking skills, fourteen White Wolves, and six Elder Hawks--spies of Dremlock.

Aside from that, all of the remaining members of Lannon's Divine Shield were present. Trenton Shadowbane, now a member of the Divine Shield, was also present much to the dismay of many of the Knights who didn't like the Investigator and typically avoided him. Furlus Goblincrusher--now fully healed aside from a permanent limp--commanded the battalion.

Lannon, Jerret, and Aldreya sat with wide eyes as they beheld the gathering. Everywhere the Squires looked they saw shining armor and weapons, grim faces, and the blazing colors of Dremlock. This was their first glimpse of real war, and it seemed deathly serious. This magnificent battalion was being dispatched in service of the Divine Essence to save the kingdom from foes that seemed to be growing ever more powerful. Dremlock had never lost a war in its long history, even when vastly outnumbered. With the power of sorcery to aid them, the Divine Knights had always triumphed. Dremlock was one of the smaller kingdoms on the continent of Gallamerth--but it was also the most feared and respected. Every king and lord knew that when Dremlock chose to act, it was serious business. Only the Blood Legion, aligned with the Deep Shadow and users of sorcery themselves, posed a dire threat to the survival of the Divine Knights.

The Squires were overwhelmed with feelings of pride and loyalty--and deep uncertainty. They wondered what would happen if this army failed, whether or not Dremlock could endure such a loss. Dremlock chose its recruits with extreme care, and fallen Knights were not easily replaced.

"Servants of the Divine Essence," Cordus said loudly, raising his hands toward the gathering. "You go north with the blessing of the White Knights, for it was Vesselin Hopebringer himself who was shown in a dream what we believe is the correct path to take. The Divine Essence spoke to Vesselin and told him that our fate would be decided in the Bonefrost Mountains."

Vesselin stepped from the crowd of onlookers and bowed to Cordus, his long white hair and beard blowing in the breeze. He looked incredibly old in the bright sunlight, his face crisscrossed with countless lines and wrinkles.

"Some of you may wonder if you are riding into a trap," Cordus went on. "You wonder if the Blood Legion has some horrific surprise waiting for you. While I cannot reveal all that we know, rest assured that the highest ranking Knights among you are well informed of the risks. Knowledge and wisdom our are allies, and there is no doubt that we will triumph!"

The crowd cheered.

"The Divine Essence has also spoken to me," said Cordus. "It has given its blessing to this quest--by offering a piece of itself. It has created a White Flamestone that will be a light that will guide this army through the darkness!" Cordus reached into his cloak and held up a pale, burning piece of crystal. His hand seemed filled with radiant light. The crowd gasped in amazement.

"With the White Flamestone to guide us," Cordus went on, "we cannot possibly lose this war. I now offer this to a young man--the most promising Squire that Dremlock has seen in ages, the future of this kingdom."

Lannon tensed up, certain he was going to be handed the White Flamestone. He gazed at it eagerly, wondering how it would feel to hold a living piece of the Divine Essence. But then he noticed that Cordus was looking at someone else.

"I now ask," Cordus went on, "that this incredibly gifted lad--a prince of Borenthia no less--come forward and receive the White Flamestone. It was the will of the Divine Essence that he alone should bear it. Now, Vannas Greenrune, come and take this wondrous blessing!"

A tall, handsome Birlote Squire emerged from the crowd, grinning with delight. He waved to everyone, then hurried to Cordus and held out his cupped hands. He wore the lightweight, green and gold, rune-engraved armor of an archer, and a bow was slung across his back.

Cordus smiled. "You will bring hope to Dremlock, Vannas. At last we have gained an advantage over our foes. As the Bearer of the White Flamestone, you are now the most important servant of Dremlock--more important even than myself. Your survival is vital, your fate bound to the fate of Dremlock. You will join the other Squires, protected at all times by a Divine Shield."

Vannas bowed, then turned to the crowd and raised the Flamestone. The gathering erupted into cheers and clapping. Vannas smiled, a look of such confidence on his face it made Lannon cringe. In one sweeping moment, Lannon's status as the most important person at Dremlock has been torn away. He couldn't help but feel immediate jealously toward Vannas.

"Prince Vannas is my cousin!" Aldreya said, beaming at Lannon. "He is a great warrior. I'm sure he will bring much honor to Dremlock."

Lannon nodded and mumbled, "I'm sure he will." In spite of his jealously, Lannon hoped the White Flamestone would give Dremlock the edge it needed to save Vorden and Taris.

"What a remarkable turn of events," said Jace. "The Divine Essence has given up a piece of itself to ensure the survival of Dremlock. I don't recall anything like this ever happening before. Frankly, I'm stunned!"

"It is my greatest honor," Prince Vannas called out, "to have been chosen to bear this mighty gift--this weapon of all weapons. Now the shadows will flee before us like the night before the rising sun!"

Cordus handed Vannas a black pouch to hold the White Flamestone and motioned for him to join Lannon and his friends. Then he took to reading a few passages from The Book of War--peaceful poetry in spite of the book's name that was meant to soothe and inspire. However, The Book of War was badly written to the point of being laughable:

"Peace, Or No Peace?

by Talm Fireleg

A Leaf reaches out, to touch a like-veined heart,

For the Tree of honor gives peace, where no peace was found,

The Knight's brow is caked with sweat, the yellow frosting of toil,

His Soul overly baked and boiled, a cake makers bungled lament,

The eternal Boughs give shade so rest, a cool leaf to wipe your brow,

To forge the peaceful Mind..."

Someone in the crowd snickered and Cordus glared at them, before continuing on. The Book of War was an embarrassment--written in an age when bad poetry was held in high regard. Most of the poems were written by Knights who had far more skill with the blade than the pen.

Vannas strode over to the Squires and nodded to Aldreya. "I see I'm in good company, my cousin. Now if only I had a horse!"

Aldreya smiled. "I am in awe of you, cousin. The Divine Essence has truly blessed you. I would gladly surrender my horse to you."

"And I would refuse it," said Vannas. "To date, you've done far more for Dremlock than I have."

"Good to meet you," Jerret mumbled. He didn't appear impressed at all by the prince. He sat slouched in the saddle, his muscular arms folded across his chest. All Jerret seemed to care about was his training. It was an obsession that had grown to consume him--as if he were preparing for some great duel to the death and nothing else in life mattered. He'd gone from being a talented and lazy Squire to someone who could barely bring himself to rest.

"Glad to have you along, Vannas," said Lannon, sitting taller in the saddle. Vannas turned and his eyes passed over Lannon and kept going. Lannon squirmed a bit, wondering if Vannas had failed to hear him or was ignoring him.

"You must be Jace the Wanderer," said the prince, nodding to the tall man. "One of my protectors, and a fine warrior from what I've heard."

"Lannon's Divine Shield," said Jace, "is now your Divine Shield as well. I was told you would be joining us. However, I had no idea you would be bearing such a great gift. Actually, I'm surprised Cordus choose to reveal it publicly. Now our foes will surely learn of it, taking away our element of surprise."

Vannas smiled. "The High Council hopes our foes will be intimidated. Meanwhile, the true power of the White Flamestone remains hidden from them." He lowered his voice and added, "And, well, the Blood Legion spies found out about it rather quickly, unfortunately."

Jace nodded. "As usual."

Cordus started another poem:

"Smell The Flowers, Not The Trolls

by Blande Barrelchest

The War is blue, no it is green,

The Wind sings true, but our foes are liars,

The Dawn comes bright, to nag the tainted soul,

But the peaceful Soul is not nagged..."

People in the crowd glanced at each other in amusement. Sadly, it was a Lord Knight's duty and tradition to read poems from The Book of War when an army of Knights was leaving Dremlock.

Vannas nodded to Lannon. "Good to meet you as well, Lannon Sunshield. I've heard of your deeds, and I'm impressed by them."

Lannon bowed. "Thank you, Vannas."

A white horse--one of the finest in Dremlock--was led over for Vannas. He swung smoothly into the saddle, then smiled at Lannon. "I suspect we will become good friends. I pledge to guard your back."

"And I pledge to guard yours," Lannon said. He still felt a bit of jealously, but Vannas had put him at ease. Lannon was grateful that someone else would now share his terrible burden.

Vannas seemed engulfed in an aura of importance, and Lannon couldn't help but immediately think of him as a leader. That aura bordered on arrogance yet commanded great respect.

"Would you address me as Prince Vannas henceforth?" He winked at Lannon. "One stipulation of my coming to Dremlock is that I'm allowed to retain my title and be addressed with respect."

Lannon was overcome for a moment by annoyance and couldn't speak. Then he found his voice. "Of course, Prince Vannas."

"Thank you, my friend," said the prince. He smiled at Aldreya. "You may still address me as cousin if you like. I find it charming."

"Glad to have you along, Vannas," said Shennen. "The gift you bear gives me hope that we will survive our journey north."

"We will do more than survive," said Vannas. "I promise you that we will utterly vanquish our foes. The power I bear is stronger than anything you can imagine. It makes Lannon's Eye of Divinity seem like a magician's cheap illusion. This is a new day for Dremlock."

Lannon wondered why Shennen didn't have to refer to him as Prince Vannas, and his annoyance grew. Also, he felt like Vannas had just tried to diminish Lannon's importance. It was a petty thought, but it nagged Lannon nonetheless. He felt as if he had just been slapped in the face. Yet Vannas likely spoke the truth. How long had the Birlote prince been training in secrecy to wield the White Flamestone, and just how powerful was the device? A gift from the Divine Essence surely had to be extraordinary. Lannon was certain the answers would be revealed on their journey, as he fully expected ambushes and assassination attempts.

It was another two hours before the army departed and at last rode off through Darkender Tunnel to the sounds of battle horns that rang out from the Great Wall. As they made their way down the mountain, the parade of Knights received many cheers from gathered crowds along the road. Everyone in Silverland and the lands beyond knew that Dremlock was going to war. Every king and lord was on edge, their spies out gathering information.

Vannas rode next to Lannon, and the prince spent much time waving to people. Feeling overshadowed, Lannon took to waving as well. But Lannon didn't feel comfortable drawing attention to himself, so he stopped. Lannon reminded himself that he was not a prince and wasn't required to act like one.

"What a grand day this is, my friend," Vannas said to Lannon. "Can you feel it in your blood? We ride for the fate of Dremlock!"

"Yes, it is exciting," said Lannon, though his tone was subdued. He wanted to feel what Vannas was feeling, but the thought of riding north and confronting Vorden and the Blood Legion terrified him. Also, with Vannas now wielding some great power from the Divine Essence, Lannon actually feared for Vorden's life. Lannon had been hoping to free Vorden of the gauntlet and bring the device back to Dremlock. But Vannas would surely attempt to kill Vorden. The impending situation put a heavy burden on Lannon's shoulders. Vannas was a Birlote prince and a warrior who fought for honor. He would gleefully use his power to slay Dremlock's foes. But for Lannon it wasn't that simple. He was always seeking a way to save everyone, even when he knew it was impossible to do so. It left him weary to the core.

And if Vannas and his mysterious White Flamestone weren't enough, the massive army of Divine Knights was bent on bloodshed. The reality was that they weren't going on this quest to save Vorden and Taris--but to strike a terrible blow to the Blood Legion. This was strictly a war party, and the only topic on the agenda was bitter combat. Lannon was certain, however, that Furlus Goblincrusher was thinking of his friend and fellow Tower Master Taris Warhawk and would do everything in his power to return the Hand of Tharnin to Dremlock.

It was a pleasant day for riding, with the soothing fall breeze taking the edge off the heat. The Knights seemed in good spirits, chatting and laughing, their colored sashes, banners, and armor matching the fall leaves around them. They followed the trail to the base of the mountain and then took Boulder Road that led north through a wooded valley. The scent of pine filled the valley air. Lannon was certain the Knights' confidence stemmed from acquiring the White Flamestone. He knew his own confidence had increased since Dremlock's new weapon had been revealed. With the Divine Essence firmly on their side, surely they couldn't lose. How could their foes, (the Hand of Tharnin on their side or not) stand against the power of a god?

That evening, after leaving the wooded valley they camped in a large, grassy field by the road. Many watch fires were lit, over which fresh meat was roasted. These northern lands were sparsely inhabited by people, and wildlife was everywhere. With a dozen Rangers to hunt for them, fresh meat was easy to come by.

Lannon, Vannas, and the Divine Shield were gathered around one fire, along with Furlus (who seemed to consume more meat than the rest of the Divine Shield put together). The mood was festive--almost as if they were going to some grand celebration rather than war with an ancient enemy.

"We have a bard with us somewhere," said Furlus, wiping grease from his beard. "Bazil Bearpaw. Shall I summon him for some entertainment? Tonight, we will not speak of anything concerning our mission. Tonight we celebrate."

Trenton chewed at a small piece of meat and took a sip of water. "I don't like Bazil. I find him quite annoying."

"You would!" said Furlus, scowling at the Investigator. "No sense of humor. None at all. When is the last time you had a good laugh?"

Trenton glowered at the Grey Dwarf, but said nothing.

"He's a fine bard," said Shennen. "I'll go and find him." The Blue Knight rose, a lean shadow in the firelight. "I want to scout around a bit, anyway."

"Relax, Shennen," said Furlus. "Sit, and have some food and drink. No threat exists here, amongst all of these Knights."

Hesitantly, Shennen did as Furlus ordered, his face sullen. He grabbed an apple from a bowl and crunched into it, yet his eyes gazed restlessly beyond the firelight.

"What's bothering you, my friend?" Furlus asked.

"I don't know," said Shennen. "I feel like something is watching us--perhaps from the night sky."

Furlus waved his hand dismissively. "It could be a Blood Legion spy. What does it matter? We're going to war. Let them spy on us all they want and prepare a thousand ambushes. Our own spies will guide us through to victory. They want war, they expect war, and war is what they will get!"

Shennen nodded. "True enough. But whatever I am sensing still troubles me. I...I have been on edge since Willan's death."

Furlus bowed his head, a look of pity on his face. "You need to quit blaming yourself for that. Both you and Willan thought it was the right choice. I might have made the same choice. It's just the way of things."

"I care not to speak of this," said Shennen, his face reddening a bit. "Especially in front of the Squires. I shouldn't have brought up the subject."

"Then shut your mouth and eat," said Furlus.

"I need my mouth open to eat," said Shennen, managing a smile. He seized a flask of ale. "Let's celebrate then. Where's that bard?"

Furlus chuckled and patted Shennen on the back. "Hey Bard!" he bellowed. "Get over here!"

"Why don't we have a duel?" said Jerret, standing up. "We could fashion some wooden swords from sticks and have a contest."

"Predictable request," said Trenton, "from a Squire who doesn't seem to know how to take a break from training."

Jerret shrugged. "Aren't Squires supposed to train?"

"In a reasonable fashion, yes," said Trenton. "Not like some obsessed fool. I think you've let this Divine Shield business overcome your common sense. I should give you a duel and leave you with a healthy bruise for your troubles."

Jerret rolled his eyes. "Anyway, who wants to have a duel--other than a Green Knight who would obviously be too much for me to handle?"

Trenton sneered and mumbled "Coward."

Jerret winced at the insult, but said nothing. It was clear that in spite of his new confidence, Jerret feared the Investigator. Aside from being a Green Knight, Trenton also harbored the bizarre ability to transform into a raging wolf monster.

"Jerret isn't a coward, Trenton," said Furlus, slapping the ground. His grey eyes, set beneath his drooping brows, twinkled with amusement. "Look at him standing there fearlessly, ready for combat! Someone should give him his duel. What about you, Jace? I think you could use some practice."

"I would rather eat, smoke my pipe, and go to sleep," said Jace, yawning. "So count me out of any duels."

Vannas grinned. "I wouldn't mind a duel. What about you, Lannon?"

Lannon shrugged. "I'm not much for that sort of thing."

"I think it's a good idea," said Furlus, winking. He called some Rangers over and sent them to gather sticks from a nearby stretch of woods.

Jerret tied his long blond hair back in a ponytail and then stretched his muscles, grinning. "I'll take on anywhere here, including the Knights!" He glanced nervously at Trenton. "Except for the Green Knights, of course."

Shennen laughed. "So you would battle me as well, Jerret? I'm not yet a Green Knight. And how do you think you would fare?"

"Not very well," said Jerret, still grinning.

That brought out booming laughter from everyone.

"But I think I can handle any Squire with ease," said Jerret. "And some of the Knights too. I'm serious."

Vannas rose. The Birlote prince stood several inches taller than Jerret. "Is that so? I know a thing or two about swordplay, so perhaps it would not be as easy to defeat me as you think. I would be happy to partake in a duel with you."

"No, not you," Furlus muttered, motioning for Vannas to sit. "Can't risk you taking a blow to the head should Jerret get carried away. You either, Lannon. Anyone else is welcome to give it a try. The winner gets a flask of high quality Olrog ale. Of course, if the Squire wins, he has to wait until he is a Knight to drink it."

"Olrog ale?" said Jerret. "That's worth fighting for!"

The Rangers returned and tossed some sword-sticks on the ground. A large circle of onlookers soon formed around the fire.

Jerret lifted a heavy stick and looked around. "So who will it be?"

A young, arrogant Brown Knight named Melran Lighthammer stepped forward to cheers from the onlookers. He tossed his shield aside. He was a few years older than Jerret, but about the same size. "With all due respect, Jerret," Melran said, "no Squire can beat a fully trained Knight. Not in fair combat. But if you want to learn a lesson, I'm ready to teach it!"

The onlookers boomed laughter.

"An undersized Brownie and an oversized Squire," mused Thrake Wolfaxe, raising his ale flask. "I think it's a perfect match."

"You'll likely get your head smashed in, Jerret," said Furlus, chuckling. "I admire your spirit, but Melran is right. You're not experienced enough or strong enough to defeat a Divine Knight."

Jerret's lips tightened. "We'll see about that."

The sword-sticks clattered together several times, as Squire and Knight circled each other. Jerret took a blow to the leg that made him hop, but he stayed on his feet. Melran sighed and seemed to lower his guard, as if Jerret were not worth his time. Jerret lunged in and caught Melran with a solid blow to the shoulder that drove the arrogant look off his face.

Melran's eyes widened. "Oh, so you want to make this a little more serious, huh?" His face red with embarrassment and anger, he launched a flurry of blows at Jerret. Jerret blocked all but one that glanced off his arm.

Again they circled each other, sweat dripping from their brows, and now Melran was alert to Jerret's skill and in full defensive posture.

"You're looking a bit scared, Melran," Jerret mocked. "I can see it in your eyes."

The onlookers roared laughter.

Melran's face twisted into a sneer. "Keeping talking, Squire. When all is said and done, you're going to have some shiny new bruises."

They clashed again, trying to overpower each other with brute strength. Knights were typically much stronger than Squires, but Jerret managed to push Melran backwards a bit. For a moment, Melran looked horrified at the prospect that Jerret might defeat him--a shame that was certain to torment him for a long time.

Then a new light sprang into Melran's eyes--a light of power that further separated Knights from Squires. Now charged with sorcery, Melran drove Jerret back and knocked his legs out from under him. Jerret started to rise, and Melran raised the stick for a downward swing, his face contorted with rage.

"Enough!" Furlus muttered. "Jerret fought well."

Melran bowed to Furlus and helped Jerret to his feet. Even though he'd lost, Jerret had a broad grin on his face. "Get a bit more than you bargained for, Melran? I'm guessing you weren't expecting that, right?"

Melran nodded and managed a smile. "You've done well with your training, Jerret. You'll make a fine Knight."

They clasped hands.

"It was a good duel," said Furlus, "but that's enough for tonight. Melran gets the ale. But, Jerret, you should be proud of yourself."

Jerret nodded and wiped sweat from his face. "Thank you, Master Furlus. I just wanted to test myself. I knew I was going to lose."

Furlus' face darkened. He pointed at Jerret. "Don't ever assume you will lose, Squire, no matter what foe you face." He took a huge swig of ale and half of it ran down his beard. He cursed.

Jerret bowed. "I'll bear that in mind, Master Furlus."

"You fought well, Jerret," said Aldreya.

"Yes, nicely done," said Lannon.

"I'm impressed by your skill, Jerret," said Vannas. "However, I'm still convinced I would have defeated you."

Jerret nodded. "Maybe so, Prince Vannas. But you're not the one I want to defeat." His eyes seemed distant. "The one I must defeat..."

"What do you mean?" said Lannon, suddenly feeling chilled.

But Jerret didn't reply.

Loud snoring reached their ears from Jace. The giant, cloaked man had been sound asleep through the duel, and his ale flask had tipped over.

***

Later that evening, when the Knights seemed to be sleeping and only the Squires remained awake by the fire, Vannas took the White Flamestone from its black pouch and held it up. The radiant glow engulfed the campsite, causing people to stir, and he quickly cupped his hands around it to diminish the light. "The key to our victory," he said, his green eyes shining with their own fire.

"Be careful, Prince Vannas," said Lannon, glancing about nervously. "Perhaps you should keep it concealed."

Vannas glared at him, his devilish Birlote features making his handsome face look sinister. "Don't be jealous of this magnificent gift, my friend. And I assure you that no foe can remove this from my hand. It is almost...a part of me now. It's something you cannot understand."

"I'm not jealous," Lannon mumbled, his face growing red. "I'm just being cautious."

"I think my cousin knows his business," said Aldreya. "I'm guessing he has been trained extensively in the use of the Flamestone."

"I have," said Vannas, his voice full of pride. "I know this device like you know your sword, Lannon. And it knows me."

"Overconfidence is a wretched weakness," said Jerret, poking a stick at the fire and sending up sparks. "It can consume you."

Vannas' eyes widened. "I find that rather insulting, Jerret. I am a Prince of Borenthia, yet you dare accuse me of overconfidence?"

"You're just a Squire at Dremlock," said Jerret, "unless I'm mistaken. A very important one, yes, but still a Squire."

"Don't be a fool," said Vannas, rising to his feet with a menacing look on his face. He put the White Flamestone away and balled up his fist. "You are still required to respect me as royalty. You fought well earlier, but now you make a fool of yourself, Jerret Dragonsbane."

"Vannas is correct," said Aldreya. "You're being quite rude, Jerret. My cousin was called upon by the Divine Essence for a great purpose."

"Sure," said Jerret, sneering, "and Birlotes know all about rudeness. Every word that comes out of a Birlote's mouth is rude."

"Taris, who might die soon, is a Birlote," said Lannon, hoping to shame Jerret into silence. "And Taris has always been kind to you, Jerret."

"I feel bad about Taris," said Jerret, looking a bit sheepish. "I'm just saying that we shouldn't be overconfident. And I have a destiny too, by the way--one I take very seriously. I'm not a prince, and the Divine Essence didn't bless me with any great gift, but I have a purpose on this journey nonetheless."

They fell silent for a moment. Vannas' anger seemed to diminish at Jerret's words. He extended his hand. "I can respect your belief in your destiny, Jerret, whatever it may be. I offer you my hand and ask only for respect in return."

Aldreya nodded to Jerret, her face tense. "The prince offers his hand. I strongly suggest you accept it."

"Let's just try to get along," said Lannon, wishing they weren't acting like fools when so much was at stake. "We're all part of this Divine Shield or what have you. We need to be friends."

Sighing, Jerret rose and accepted the handshake. "Okay, I've got your back...Prince Vannas."

"And I have yours, Jerret Dragonsbane," Vannas said, smiling.

"Good," said Lannon. "Now maybe we can get some sleep."

But a lean shadow suddenly appeared next to Jerret. It was Shennen, and he squatted down, his hand on Jerret's shoulder. "I'm glad you accepted the prince's gesture of friendship," he said in a low voice. "Well done, Squire."

"Thank you, Master Shennen," said Jerret, looking nervous.

"But...I am concerned with you," said Shennen. "You seem to have a habit of insulting Birlotes because you cannot understand our ways. I realize you're just a young man and that young people act like fools. However, you go too far with it. Yes, I am greatly concerned with you..."

Jerret started to protest, but Shennen clamped a hand over his mouth. "Don't talk, Jerret. Just listen very carefully."

Trembling, Jerret nodded.

"I'm getting rather weary," Shennen went on, whispering in Jerret's ear, "of these insults. Don't think I don't overhear things even when a door is closed, or that people don't report things to me that they hear. I know you frequently speak ill of my race. I realize you're part of the Divine Shield, and by Dremlock law, that makes you important. But I'm going to step beyond my rank a bit and warn you that you had better watch what you say about Birlotes henceforth--because I might be listening from the shadows. Is that clearly understood?"

Again, Jerret nodded, his face tense.

Shennen slipped back into the shadows. The Squires glanced at each other in relief, except for Aldreya, who seemed delighted by what had happened. She smiled at Jerret, who looked away in humiliation.

***

Over the next couple of days, the weather turned wretched. They were nearing the Northern Bloodlands, where bad weather was common, but it was also fall and deep into the rainy season. Cold rain poured down until the entire army was soaking wet and miserable. But they kept riding at a stout pace.

When they glimpsed the Mother Trees of the Bloodlands in the distance, it was nearing evening and still raining hard. Everyone was tired of riding, and some of the Knights had taken ill. They erected tents in a field and camped.

The tents were fairly large, and all of the Squires were able to fit inside one of them. Aldreya was permitted to sleep in the same tent as the boys, as space was limited and they wanted the Squires to remain together. They lit a lantern and sat on their blankets, listening to the rain beat down on the roof.

"What a wretched day it has been," said Jerret. "Wet clothes. Wet blanket. My pack was supposed to keep out the rain, but it didn't. How are we supposed to dry out when we can't even build a fire?"

Aldreya smiled as she wrung out her hair. "Aren't you supposed to be a Squire of Dremlock, Jerret? You should never be without fire." She channeled her sorcery into her dagger and made it burn, then slowly ran it over her clothes. "This will take some time, but it should do the task."

"Careful not to set our tent ablaze, cousin," said Vannas, winking at her. He unsheathed his own dagger and followed Aldreya's lead.

"I can't control the fire with such precision," said Jerret, gazing at them with envy. "I would just burn my clothing."

"I can't do it either," said Lannon. Actually, Lannon couldn't produce fire at all. His sorcery practice sessions had been limited to the Eye of Divinity, and as far as Lannon knew, the Eye did not generate heat.

"I'll gladly do it for you, my friend," said Vannas, "once my own clothing is dry. There is no reason any of us should suffer such discomfort."

"Thank you," said Lannon, thinking that Vannas was turning out to be a fine companion.

"Will you dry my clothing, Aldreya?" Jerret asked.

"Are you speaking in jest?" said Aldreya, with a laugh.

Jerret's face turned red. "No, I was just asking for your help. But forget I said anything."

Aldreya sighed. "Yes, I will dry your clothing, Jerret. But you should learn to control your sorcery."

"I'm trying," said Jerret, shrugging.

"Yes, you are trying hard," said Aldreya. "I'll give you that."

Eventually, Vannas and Aldreya had dried out everything in the tent. The tent itself was waterproof, and so conditions within became comfortable. The Squires ate jerky, cheese, and cake that had stayed dry thanks to careful wrapping. They had tea to drink (which was heated by dagger point).

Shennen popped his head in, rain dripping down his face. "Just checking to make sure everyone is dry and has food. I'm going to my tent to dry out and eat, and I'm leaving Buke Songblade to stand guard."

"Yes, by all means have a break, Master Shennen," said Vannas. "You've earned it. And we're obviously safe enough amidst an army of Divine Knights."

Shennen nodded and withdrew, sealing the tent door.

Moments later, Jace strode in and sat down, his cloak damp from having moved between tents. Immediately, Aldreya hurried over to dry him. Jace smiled and pinched her cheek. "What would I do without my favorite Squire?"

"Sit there waterlogged?" Aldreya answered, pinching him back.

Jace chuckled and lit up his pipe. He looked especially large in the tent.

"What brings you here?" asked Vannas. "Just a friendly visit?"

"Of course not," said Jace. "Though I'm fond of all you Squires, I would rather be sleeping right now. No, I've come to give you a dire warning."

Aldreya drew back at his somber tone, the fire diminishing in her dagger. "A dire warning?"

"You heard me," said Jace, gazing at her sternly. "I am growing increasingly convinced that we are in fact riding into some extraordinary trap that we can't even imagine. My feeling is that the Blood Legion does not fear us and is well prepared to deal with us. The Knights won't hear of it--especially Furlus, who is far too stubborn to listen to a banished Knight like myself."

"Are you sure you're not giving in to irrational fears, Uncle Jace?" said Aldreya. "The Knights have knowledge they won't share with you."

"Uncle Jace?" said Vannas, laughing. "He's clearly not one of us, dear cousin. Not that Jace isn't a wise man and a fine warrior, from what I've heard."

Jerret rolled his eyes. "Uncle Jace? That's silly, Aldreya."

"I consider it an honor," said Jace, winking. "Anyway, this is not about fear. I want you Squires to be truly prepared for what lies ahead."

"We are prepared," said Vannas, producing the black pouch that held the White Flamestone. "Remember, we now have the greatest weapon in all the land. Even the mighty Hand of Tharnin must shatter before it."

Jace ran his fingers through his curly black hair and sighed, looking utterly distraught. "Overconfidence is the doom of all warriors, my good prince. As each day passes, I wonder just how bitter an end we are facing."

Vannas' face reddened. "I realize you are not a Knight, Jace--that in fact you were expelled from the Order. You may not feel obligated to show me respect, but I am still a Prince of Borenthia. I strongly question your judgment in calling me overconfident. How can I have too much confidence when I hold this?"

Vannas withdrew the White Flamestone from the pouch, and a pale, piercing glow filled the tent. "This is power above all of Tharnin!"

Jace turned, as if to shield his eyes. "Nonsense, lad. It is a powerful weapon, yes. But the war against the Deep Shadow has raged for centuries. Even the greatest piece of the White Guardian--the Crimson Flamestone--did not destroy the Eye of Tharnin. The great beast lives on and possibly always will."

"I believe you are wrong, Jace," said Vannas. "You have no idea how much power is locked within this crystal. What would a warrior know of sorcery, a clumsy giant who fights only with his bare hands?"

Jace's eyes gleamed with sudden malice in the pale light of the Flamestone. His cloaked form seemed to fill the tent. "What would I know of sorcery? All the years I have walked this land, and you dare ask that? That is bold even for an arrogant prince."

Aldreya clutched Jace's shoulder. "My cousin means no harm."

Jace's hand shot out with the speed of a striking snake and clamped around the prince's hand, engulfing the White Flamestone. Vannas struggled but seemed unable to move, his eyes wide with shock. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"I could kill you," said Jace, in a cold whisper. "You cannot move. You cannot activate the Flamestone. All you can do is wait for my next action. You say I know nothing of sorcery, yet my sorcery has rendered you helpless."

"Jace, let him go," Aldreya said. "He is a prince!"

"Not my prince," said Jace. "He's just an arrogant young man to me--one who has a lot to learn. And the learning process has begun."

Vannas tried to speak, but no words came out.

Jerret grinned. "I'm liking this."

Lannon, however, didn't like what he was seeing at all. Jace seemed to have overstepped his authority. Lannon wondered if he was somehow under the control of Tharnin. "What are you doing, Jace? Let him go!" Lannon summoned the Eye of Divinity but held it in check, waiting for Jace's response.

"Very well," said Jace. "My point is made." He withdrew his huge hand, and the prince was able to move again.

His face burning with humiliation, Vannas put the Flamestone away. He was shaking with anger. "You've made quite a mistake in laying hands on me. At the least, you will lose your place in the Divine Shield."

Jace shrugged. "Do you think I care? It would be a gift to me. All I wanted to do was warn you Squires that nothing is certain in life. No power is too great to be overcome. Vannas, if the Hand of Tharnin had seized you like that, you would be dead right now. I merely showed you the truth of things."

"Jace is right," said Aldreya, though she looked uncertain. "He shouldn't have laid hands on you, cousin, but he did make a valid point."

Vannas glared at her for a moment, and then his face softened. He sighed. "You speak the truth, Aldreya. You have far more wisdom than I do. Jace, as much as I cringe in saying this--I thank you for the lesson."

Jace raised his eyebrows. "I'm impressed by your wisdom and humility, Prince Vannas. Perhaps there is hope for this quest after all. I'm sorry for seizing you like that, but I felt it was the only way to make you understand."

"You have made me more aware of the dangers we face," said Vannas. "And truthfully, we are far better off with you accompanying us."

Jace rose into a stooped position. "Well, I guess I'll return to my tent now. I have nothing more to say. I hope we can all remain friends."

Vannas bowed, his face still red with embarrassment. "We shall talk again."

"Goodnight, Jace," said Aldreya.

"It's just Jace now, huh?" he said, giving her a wry smile. "No more uncle?"

Aldreya looked away.

With a chuckle, Jace left the tent.

"I realize he tried to enlighten me," said Vannas, "but it proves nothing. In battle, no one will get that close to me."

"Anything can happen," said Lannon, thinking back to his encounters with the servants of the Deep Shadow.

"But I'll be ready," Vannas insisted.

As the Squires lay down to sleep, Lannon pondered Jace's warning. Lannon's skill with the Eye of Divinity seemed weak lately, his energy low. If the Knights were relying on his power to any significant degree, they were indeed making a huge mistake. But Lannon suspected that Vannas was the bearer of hope now--the one who was expected to overcome the Hand of Tharnin and whatever other terrors awaited them. This should have eased Lannon's burdens, but all he could focus on was saving Vorden and Taris. It was a fact that countless Knights and Squires had been lost to the will of the Deep Shadow. Vorden was just another victim in a long line of them that spanned the centuries. This was normal business for Dremlock, but to Lannon it was deeply personal and gnawed constantly at his soul.

At last Lannon fell asleep, and his dreams were cold and dark.

***

During the night, Lannon awoke to find he couldn't move his arms or legs or utter a single noise. Flooded with panic, he opened his eyes to see a dark shape hovering above him. As his vision came into focus, he gazed up at a humanoid face with its mouth open wide to display two large white fangs. The face was attached to a dark and scaly serpent's body as big around as a man's thigh.

A Pit Crawler had slid silently in through the tent door, with some of its long body still outside, and it was paralyzing Lannon with its sorcery. A thin stream of dark, transparent mist shot from the beast's jaws and hovered around Lannon's face, its icy touch commanding him to lie still and wait for death.

Lannon fought to summon the Eye of Divinity, but the Pit Crawler's sorcery thwarted his efforts. The dark mist had frozen both mind and muscle. He could only watch in despair as the white fangs moved toward his throat.

Lannon fought like a madman to unlock the Eye. At last it emerged and seized the serpent, barely halting its descent.

The Eye probed the Pit Crawler, revealing a Goblin that lived to inflict death. It killed even when its belly was full, a quiet shadow that used sorcery to conceal itself and confuse others. It was an abomination that had been bred for ambush and assassination, and it loved its work.

Convinced he was going to lose the struggle, Lannon thought of his parents. He wondered how they could take the news of his death. It would likely ruin them, especially his father, who was in a fragile state to begin with due to the disease that ravaged his body and spirit. Lannon wasn't giving up--but he was definitely giving ground. Once again he found himself trying to hold back a much stronger foe, and once again the Eye of Divinity seemed too weak to save him. Slowly the Pit Crawler's pale fangs closed in on his neck.

Lannon realized the creature would likely try to kill the other Squires as well, before its work was done. He strove to scream warnings as he fought, but his vocal cords were completely useless. He imagined the Knights finding their bodies in the tent the next morning

With a furious effort, Lannon pushed the Pit Crawler away from his throat as he tried to break free. But the creature spit its dark mist again into Lannon's face, and his focus waned. The beast once again began to descend on him.

The battle raged on silently, until Lannon realized a way to save himself. He reached out with a small portion of the Eye and shook Vannas hard. It was difficult to split his focus, and it caused him to lose a bit of ground with the Pit Crawler. But the move paid off, as the Birlote prince awoke instantly and sat up, his eyes widening when he beheld the intruder. He yelled out a warning on instinct. The other Squires snapped awake, crying out in shock over what they saw--too stunned for a moment to reach for their weapons.

Vannas leapt to his feet, ordering Jerret and Aldreya to stay down. He yanked the White Flamestone from its pouch and its piercing light flooded the tent. The Pit Crawler quivered and hissed, as if the light were burning it.

"Die, spawn of Tharnin!" Vannas cried, and the Flamestone grew blinding, its light hammering into the beast. The Pit Crawler ignited into white fire, its burning husk hanging in the air.

Lannon shoved the blazing creature away from him with vicious force. Having no power left to resist his sorcery, the beast flew out the tent door, leaving only a few glowing fragments behind that quickly went dark.

Able to move again, Lannon rose and drew his Dragon-bone sword with a shaking hand. Aldreya seized the lantern (which thankfully had remained standing), and with a fearful glance at each other, the Squires stepped out into the cold rain to see that the Pit Crawler had been reduced to a charred shell.

But another terrible sight awaited them. Buke Songblade, the Blue Knight who'd been guarding them, lay dead in the wet grass, his face shockingly pale in the lantern glow. His sword was sheathed--indicating he'd been ambushed by the Pit Crawler and likely injected with its lethal venom.

As Knights poured from tents and gathered around, Lannon knelt in the grass, sickened. Aldreya placed her hand on his shoulder. His voice quivering with emotion, Lannon explained exactly what had occurred.

"It passed quietly through the middle of an army," said Vannas, "and nearly killed you, Lannon." His green eyes showed anger and fear.

Shennen groaned and knelt by Buke's body. "Only a Pit Crawler could have ambushed this Knight. Wretched beast!"

"We need to stay more alert," said Furlus, "rain or no rain. Had there been two guards, Buke might still be alive."

"Or two guards might now be dead," said Jace. "Regardless, we can expect more assassination attempts. Our foes know we will continue north no matter what, Squires or no Squires. Lannon and Vannas will face death again."

"It greatly disturbs me," said Furlus, "that they knew exactly what tent the Squires were in and were able to send the beast there. It was a very precise and well-executed attempt."

"Their spies watch our every move," said Shennen, pointing skyward. "And it wouldn't have been difficult to give the Pit Crawler Lannon's scent--which is left here and there during our journey--and then send the beast to sniff him out."

"And we nearly let it happen!" Furlus growled, smashing his fist into his palm. "Some Divine Shield this is!"

"If I may speak in our defense," said Thrake Wolfaxe, "the Divine Shield did its job, Furlus. Lannon is alive."

"But Buke is not," said Shennen, his eyes filled with pain. "It is at times like this when I hate being a Knight. I'm tired of war. When this conflict is over, I'm done. Enough good men have died because of my mistakes."

Furlus patted Shennen on the back. "No, my friend. Your fate lies on the High Council."

But Shennen only shook his head. "This is my last taste of war."