Knights The Heart of Shadows

chapter 3: The Journey South

Nothing interesting happened for two days, as the Squires remained under constant guard. Then one afternoon, just when they were about to be escorted to the Dining Hall for dinner, Shennen entered the room like a silent shadow, startling the Squires. He nodded to them and closed the door. Lannon exchanged a concerned glance with Jerret. Vannas and Aldreya bowed.

"Greetings, Squires," said Shennen. "We need to talk." He stood rigidly in his lightweight, dark-blue armor. Something about his stance seemed different, as if he were engulfed with an aura of importance. In spite of the fact that he was a Birlote and normally had copper-colored skin, his face was strikingly pale.

"Greetings, Master Shennen," said Vannas, smiling.

"Good to see you, Master Shennen," said Aldreya.

Lannon and Jerret said nothing.

Shennen's gaze fell on Vannas and lingered there. "I trust you're keeping the White Flamestone safe."

"I always carry it with me," Vannas replied, patting his cloak. "Even when I sleep or bathe. It's all I ever think about."

"That's good to hear," said Shennen, smiling. The smile seemed fake, never reaching his cold eyes. "You are guarding it as you should and bonding with it appropriately."

"Is everything okay?" asked Lannon. "You look...rather pale."

Shennen hesitated, then said, "Yes, my skin now possesses a lighter hue. It's from my work with the Dragon bones. The dark energy has affected my skin somehow. I suspect that eventually I will return to normal."

"Have you told Taris or Jace about it?" said Lannon. "Maybe it would be a good idea to get them involved with your research."

"Taris is not interested in my research," said Shennen. "And Jace is an outsider who believes himself more knowledgeable than he is."

"Still," said Lannon, "if I may speak freely, I'm worried about you. You say the dark sorcery has affected your skin. Has it affected anything else?" Lannon immediately regretted asking that last question.

Shennen's eyes narrowed. "Who are you to ask that?" The temperature in the chamber seemed to drop even further, as Shennen's hand clenched into a fist. "A mere Squire, interrogating the Lord of the Blue Knights?"

"I meant no offense," said Lannon. "I'm just concerned."

"Lannon was just being talkative," said Aldreya. "Sometimes he--"

Shennen silenced her with a stern glance. "Lannon can speak for himself, though he'd be wise to choose his words carefully."

"Again, I'm merely concerned," Lannon explained. He'd provoked Shennen's quick temper and now would have to simply ride out the storm.

"So you think I'm inept at what I do," Shennen said. "You want my business to be your business, because you think you can do better. You think I need an arrogant Squire to watch out for me. So why don't you use your Eye on me, lad? I'm standing right here. Go ahead and probe my secrets."

"Arrogant?" Lannon questioned, wondering how Shennen had gotten that impression. Lannon considered himself humble, especially in comparison to Jerret and Vannas. Lannon had seen Shennen angry before--but not quite this angry. Shennen seemed on the verge of losing control.

"A few days ago," said Shennen, "in the Dining Hall, you told me how arrogant and demanding Prince Vannas had become. Don't deny it, Lannon. You've also complained to Taris about it, and what did he tell you?"

"He told me to mind my own affairs," Lannon mumbled, embarrassed. He didn't look at Vannas, but he was aware that Vannas was glaring at him.

"Indeed," said Shennen. "You call Vannas arrogant behind his back, yet the prince is the one showing me respect. You have become arrogant, Lannon, and the pathetic thing is that you don't even realize it."

Lannon cringed inwardly, aware that Aldreya was also glaring at him. "I'm sorry if I appear arrogant, Master Shennen. I'll work on my character."

"I accept your apology," said Shennen. "But you don't just appear arrogant. You are arrogant. And you must come to realize this."

"Thank you for correcting me," said Lannon, though he felt nothing but irritation at Shennen for revealing the things he'd said about Vannas. Now the prince was going to be mad at Lannon, and what did that accomplish?

Shennen sat down on a bed, next to Vannas. He smiled at the prince. "By the way, I have you to thank for slaying the Dragon and allowing its remains to come into my possession. I've never told you that, but now is as good a time as any. That was a heroic deed that will be remembered throughout the ages. When we return to Dremlock, you are scheduled to be honored in a special ceremony in which you will be renamed Vannas Dragonslayer."

Prince Vannas beamed. "Thank you, Master Shennen!"

Shennen patted him on the back. "You've certainly earned it."

Lannon couldn't help but feel envious of Vannas, and his suspicion that Shennen was a puppet of Tharnin grew stronger. Shennen seemed to be deliberately trying to make Lannon jealous, perhaps to drive a wedge between the Squires.

"Yes, you've certainly earned it," said Lannon. He fought to control his tongue, but lost the battle. "All I did was kill Tenneth Bard and send the Hand of Tharnin into that pit. Not much, really, compared to slaying a Dragon."

Shennen's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, so you want a special ceremony too, Lannon? Shall I summon Taris and Furlus and let them know?"

Aldreya looked away, pity in her eyes.

Jerret looked embarrassed.

Lannon groaned, wishing he hadn't spoken. "No, I wasn't saying that. What Vannas did was amazing, and I'm grateful for it."

"Obviously, you're jealous," said Shennen. "Pure, raw, jealously. And you think you're too important to be ignored."

Vannas continued to glare at Lannon.

"You're jealous and overconfident, Lannon," Shennen went on. "You've already decided I'm a slave of Tharnin, without even using your Eye. So I invite you to use it on me--and you're afraid. Surrendering to fear is the mark of a coward."

"I'm not afraid," Lannon said, though that wasn't entirely true.

Shennen stood up and extended his hands. "Really? I think you are. Prove it to me, then. Show me your strength. Summon your Eye of Divinity and lock hands with me. Hurl me into the stone wall...if you can."

"Master Shennen," said Lannon, "I don't want to..."

"Hurt me?" Shennen finished for him. He laughed mockingly. "You really are arrogant and deluded. Go on and test your strength against me. You may find I'm not the weakling you think I am."

Lannon made no move, wishing that Taris or Furlus would come along and put an end to the madness. The other Squires looked tense and uncomfortable, wondering how far Shennen would take this. If Shennen wasn't corrupted by the Deep Shadow, then surely his mind was being affected negatively somehow by the dark sorcery of the Dragon bones--just like his pale skin.

"Lock hands with me, Squire," said Shennen. "That's an order!"

Reluctantly, Lannon rose and seized Shennen's hands. They felt deathly cold and Lannon shuddered. "This isn't necessary."

"Now summon your Eye," said Shennen, "and hurl me into the wall. I grant you permission to crush my bones...if you can."

"This is pointless, Master Shennen," Lannon protested. "You're a fully trained Knight, and I know I can't match your skill."

"Are you going to defy me?" said Shennen. "I am the Lord of the Blue Knights, and you are still a Squire--no matter how important you think you are. I have the right to train you as I see fit. Consider this a lesson!"

Lannon summoned his power and channeled it into his hands, but he hesitated. Shennen was a powerful Knight, but the Eye of Divinity was nothing to fool with. Lannon could accidentally kill Shennen.

The other Squires looked on with wide eyes.

"Throw me into the wall," said Shennen. "And when the deed is done, if I feel you didn't try hard enough, I'll make you suffer!"

With a sigh, Lannon shoved Shennen with all his might, hoping Shennen knew what he was doing. But Shennen sidestepped Lannon and somehow turned Lannon's own energy and momentum against him. Lannon's body hurtled across the bed and struck the cavern wall with vicious force. Lannon barely had time to shield himself with the Eye, or he might have been severely injured. Instead, he was knocked dizzy for a moment and collapsed to the floor.

An instant later, Shennen's dagger was pressed against Lannon's throat. "Just like that, Squire, and I bleed you dry!"

"You've made your point," Lannon mumbled, his head throbbing from the impact with the stone wall. He now had no doubt that Shennen was possessed by Tharnin. The other Squires looked on with expressions of dismay.

"You're not as strong as you thought," said Shennen, sneering. "You fought the Hand of Tharnin and Tenneth Bard--sorcery against sorcery--and it made you think you're invincible. Yet there are many ways to kill."

"Understood," Lannon mumbled. He reached up to push the long, curved dagger away from his throat, but Shennen slapped his hand away. Anger surged through Lannon and he readied the Eye again.

Then door swung open and Jace strode in. The towering sorcerer's eyes widened when he beheld Shennen pressing his dagger into Lannon's throat. "What is the meaning of this?"

Shennen sheathed his blade and pulled Lannon up from the floor. He grinned at Jace. "Just a lesson in humility that needed to be taught. Lannon is unharmed, though his ego may be bruised."

Jace looked thoughtful, but didn't reply.

Still grinning, Shennen strode past the sorcerer and left the room. "More lessons to come," he called back. "For all of you."

***

The journey south was delayed without explanation. As the winter moved along toward spring, two more highly ranked Knights were found assassinated--Garver Pureheart and Deleena Dragonclaw. Garver had been a powerful Red Knight and was considered the best at the use of the heavy throwing lance, while Deleena had been a talented sorceress.

This latest devastating loss to Dremlock caused fear and paranoia to spread throughout the fortress. Morale was low, and some disgruntled Knights began to mutter that they should abandon Dorok's Hand in spite of the great sacrifices made to secure it from the enemy. Furlus, who'd led the raid on the fortress, responded angrily to such suggestions--at one point shoving a sneering, defiant Knight against a wall and knocking the defiance right out of him.

Meanwhile, the Squires discussed the recent incident with Shennen, and even Vannas and Aldreya had to admit Shennen was behaving strangely and the "lesson" Shennen had administered to Lannon seemed outrageous. Lannon reminded them that he could have split his head open on the cavern wall and that Shennen hadn't seemed to care in the least. It was almost as if Shennen had been trying to injure or kill Lannon, and Shennen's promise that more lessons would be administered put all of the Squires on edge. The assassinations added greatly to their fears, causing them to wonder if Shennen himself was the assassin--as they were well aware that a servant of Tharnin was capable of anything. Suddenly, every shadowy corner of Dorok's Hand held sinister potential.

However, the Squires were ordered to increase their training time, which helped distract them from the grim events in the fortress. Lannon began trying to channel the Eye of Divinity through his sword. At first it seemed he was only moving the sword around with the external force of the Eye, and he almost gave up in frustration. But then he felt something happening within the bony blade itself. The Dragon sword seemed to take on a life of its own, slashing and stabbing in whatever direction he wanted at the hint of a thought. It also felt charged with energy--the crushing force of the Eye. However, it was very difficult to sustain that energy, and Lannon quickly grew exhausted and his control of the weapon grew sloppy. But day after day he practiced it, and little by little his stamina increased.

At one point they were joined by two more Blue Squires who'd arrived from Dremlock along with a shipment of supplies. One was an elite Birlote hunter and archer named Lothrin Windbow, yet another member of the royal family. Lothrin was a lean, muscular lad with unkempt silver hair and a strange leaf-shaped birthmark on his cheek. He had a calm and logical demeanor that made him very likeable. Lothrin seemed more Ranger than Blue Squire, carrying only dagger and bow for weapons and having a mind focused mostly on plants and animals and the ways of wilderness survival. The other Squire was a Grey Dwarf named Galvia Blazehammer. Like all Dwarves, she had a broad face and drooping eyebrows, and her heavily muscled limbs contained strength even Jerret couldn't match. She possessed a rare Olrog skill which was simply called Fire. It was a powerful form of sorcery that only one out of a thousand Dwarven warriors was known to possess.

Prince Vannas bore a sour expression at the sight of these new arrivals. "I can't understand why you were sent here," he said, after the new Squires had introduced themselves. "Why not send more fully trained Knights instead?"

The six Squires were alone in the bedchamber.

Galvia looked uncomfortable. "I don't know why I was sent. I was simply told I would resume my training here and be part of the Divine Shield, and that I must protect you and Lannon."

Vannas smirked. "So you're here to protect us, huh, Galvia?" He glanced at Lannon. "Do you feel safer now that she has arrived?"

Lannon didn't reply, wishing Vannas would just keep his opinions to himself (though he knew his wish was folly).

Galvia's gaze was fixed on the floor, but her grey eyes smoldered with Dwarven stubbornness. "I'm only doing as ordered."

Vannas glanced at Lothrin. "Well? What about you?"

Lothrin shrugged. "I was probably sent in case you meet a bad end, my good prince." He smiled. "Someone would have to pick up that shiny stone of yours and put it to good use."

Vannas' smirk vanished and he glared at Lothrin. "In case I meet a bad end? What does that mean? The Divine Essence didn't choose you, cousin. It chose me. The White Flamestone would be weak in your hands."

"Weak, perhaps," said Lothrin, smiling, "but better than nothing. It isn't wise to restrict such a powerful weapon to one pair of hands, even if those hands were chosen by our god and king."

"Are you saying the Knights chose you as a possible replacement?" Vannas demanded. "I don't believe it!"

"No, not a replacement," said Lothrin. "But they've been busy testing other Knights and Squires, trying to find someone who could wield the White Flamestone in case you met an unfortunate end. I alone passed the test. Barely. The truth is that no one can unlock its power like you can, my prince. The Divine Essence chose you for a reason. The Flamestone would be vastly weaker in my hands. But since I passed the test, they sent me along."

"It wasn't necessary for either of you to come here," said Vannas. "And if I have my say, you'll be sent back to Dremlock."

"We're pleased to have you both here," said Lannon, stepping in front of Vannas and shaking their hands. Aldreya and Jerret did the same.

An awkward silence followed.

Vannas sighed. "I'm not being mean spirited here." He forced a smile. "Actually, I just don't want to see more Squires put in extreme danger. But since you were ordered to come here and had no choice but to obey, I suppose I too must welcome you...at least for now." The prince extended his hand.

The two Squires shook it without hesitation.

After that, Vannas seemed in a better mood and the Squires got along fine. All the Squires of the Divine Shield were required to bunk in the same large room, girls and boys alike, so they could be easily kept under guard. Half of the chamber had been converted into a training area, with weights, practice dummies, and other accessories. A highly trusted Blue Knight named Fajan Stoneheart was sent to oversee their training. Fajan was very strict and didn't seem awed by the Squires' talents. He insisted they return to the basics of Blue Squire training--even forcing the loud and clumsy Jerret to participate. Aldreya, however, continued her sorcery training with a Grey Knight named Zana Wolfheart. Lannon, Vannas, and Galvia were also allowed time for their special training, which all three of them did on their own.

At one point, when Lannon stood alone in a corner, seeking to channel the Eye of Divinity through his sword, he noticed Taris Warhawk watching him with a concerned look. "Is something wrong?" Lannon asked.

"Your training looks strange to me," said Taris.

Lannon explained what he was doing.

"Who told you to train like that?" asked Taris.

"Shennen," said Lannon. The realization startled him. Had Shennen been trying to lead him astray in some fashion?

Taris nodded. "Shennen is behaving in a reckless manner lately. He should not have given you that advice."

"Why?" said Lannon, chills creeping over his flesh.

Taris hesitated, then stepped closer, peering at Lannon with a strange expression from beneath his hood. "Channeling the Eye of Divinity through a sword was the preferred practice of the Dark Watchmen. As you may recall, the Dark Watchmen came to an unfortunate end. They lost their way."

"Should I cease the training?" asked Lannon, feeling deeply disappointed for some reason he couldn't explain.

"It's too late for that," said Taris. "You have already started along that path of sorcery, and you will be compelled to follow it. You must avoid the feelings of battle lust and arrogance, which could be your undoing."

"I will do my best, Master Taris." Lannon didn't think he would have much trouble avoiding those feelings. Battle lust sounded more like something Jerret would be prone to, and in spite of Shennen's recent outburst over Lannon's supposed arrogance, Lannon still considered himself quite humble.

"Tomorrow we will ride out for Blombalk Fortress," said Taris. "Or rather, what remains of it. I believe the fortress was not attacked by an army--but by some great power source, perhaps equal in strength to the White Flamestone. If so, Timlin and his Legion will be seeking that power to use against us."

"But what could be as powerful as the White Flamestone?" asked Lannon. "I thought it was the greatest of all weapons."

"Only another Flamestone," Taris replied. "There are more of them out there, scattered throughout the land. When the White Guardian was shattered, the pieces of the god child were hurled far and wide."

"But they can't be just wielded by anyone, right?" said Lannon.

Taris nodded. "But those who can wield them have always sought them out, and some are the servants of Tharnin."

"But why would a servant of Tharnin attack a Blood Legion fortress?" asked Lannon. "Aren't they all fighting for the same cause?"

"That's an excellent question," said Taris. "Perplexing, isn't it? Perhaps you can give us the answer. But beware, for I suspect there is a traitor lurking about. He might be the assassin, or he might be someone else."

"Do you think it's Shennen?" Lannon whispered, glancing about nervously. The other Squires were busy with their training.

"I don't know who it is," said Taris. "It could be anyone. I understand your concerns about Shennen, but without evidence we cannot make accusations or remove him from the Divine Shield. It is not our way. Dremlock considers its Knights innocent until proven guilty. However, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious when we have suspicions."

Lannon nodded, knowing Taris spoke true.

"We ride south at dawn," said Taris, "and the assassin and traitor may be riding with us. In fact, I believe there is a strong chance of it."

And Taris would say no more on that subject.

***

Lannon, his friends, and a company of Knights rode out through the huge wooden gates of Dorok's Hand on a cold spring morning. The light of dawn was just beginning to creep over the mountains, and heavy shadows still hung over the snows. A few torches were lit, revealing tired, sullen faces.

All the members of the Divine Shield were present except Furlus Goblincrusher, who remained at Dorok's Hand to guard the fortress in case of a Blood Legion attack. Aside from the six Squires and Saranna the Ranger (and her wolf), there were fifty Knights on horseback--a mix of Red, Blue, Brown, Grey, and White, and five elite Birlote archers on loan from Borenthia. The Squires rode in a tight formation, guarded by Thrake, Shennen, Jace, Trenton, and Taris, who were themselves surrounded by a wall of heavily armored Red Knights. They brought Olrog sleds that were laden with supplies and could easily be converted into small wagons.

The freezing air stung Lannon's face, and he sat slouched in the saddle, barely able to stay awake. He'd slept poorly the night before, filled with too much anticipation over beginning the journey. Yet his desire to get out from under the oppressive gloom of the mountain was diminished on this sullen morning, and he found himself longing for his bed and a warm quilt.

"It's a bit early for traveling," Jace muttered, "when the sun hasn't yet warmed the face of the mountain. Too cold even to smoke my pipe."

"It's a perfect day," said Thrake Wolfaxe, as he stroked his bushy bread. "See, if you had some hair on your chin, Jace, you might not be so vulnerable to the cold. You should consider avoiding the razor for a while."

Jace gave him a sullen glance. "Perhaps, but right now a warm bed and some pleasant dreams are what would repair my mood."

"A beard like this might make a man out of you," Thrake went on.

"Or make a nest for lice," said Jace, waving dismissively.

That statement brought on laughter from all around.

"The beard does not make the man," said Taris, chuckling, "though if Furlus were here he would certainly dispute that statement. And by the way, Thrake, your beard will soon match Furlus' in width and length. That's sure to irritate him, so you better watch your back. If you're lucky, he may only sneak up on you in your sleep and clip some off."

Thrake grinned. "He might indeed. I'm sure he wouldn't like the fact that a Norack like me has a beard to rival a Grey Dwarf's."

"Keep your voices down," Shennen muttered. "Unless you want us to be heard all over the mountain and on the plains below."

"Yes," said Trenton, his expression sour "everyone be silent, please! I can't stand good-natured conversation this early--when I haven't even had a sip of hot tea and the frost stings my nose. Let us just ride and be miserable."

"No misery here," Thrake said. "I couldn't be more happy to be free of Dorok's Hand and out in the fresh air."

"Agreed," said Taris. "It would please me greatly never to have to see Dorok's Hand again. And speaking of Furlus, I'm sure he loves that wretched cave. It's not surprising he chose to remain behind."

"I wish I could have remained with Furlus," said Trenton, "wretched cave or not. "My duty was to find the assassin. I feel I'm neglecting it."

"You'll have plenty of mysteries to investigate," said Taris, "on this journey. You, Jace, Saranna, and Lannon, that is."

"I don't work with Squires and outsiders," said Trenton.

"This time, you will," said Taris. "When Squires and outsiders have valuable skills, a good Investigator makes use of them."

"Very well," Trenton said, giving a big sigh. "If you order it done, it will be done. Personally, I don't feel I need any help. I've served Dremlock well for years on my own. But you have spoken, and I obey. Strange that you bring this up now, though, when the journey is already underway."

"Are you going to lower your voices?" said Shennen, "or should we just start shouting to our enemies to start setting ambushes?"

No one answered.

The journey down the mountain was slow, as the horses worked their way through deep snowdrifts. As the day wore on and they were riding past some huge, twisted pines with boughs laden with snow, the weather warmed some and a thick fog settled around them. The fog was so dense and appeared so suddenly it put the Knights on edge, and they halted travel to discuss the issue.

"I sense the work of Tharnin," said Shennen, drawing his blade. "This fog feels foul against the skin and bears a faint stench like the Bloodlands."

"I smell nothing but pines and fresh air," said Thrake. "I think it's just some dense fog, not unusual in the mountains this time of year."

"This mist is definitely not natural," said Taris. "It is some weapon of Tharnin, meant to blind and confuse us. An attack is sure to come. Be on guard and protect the Squires. Protect the White Flamestone at all costs!"

"How can we see to protect anything?" Trenton snarled. "We've blundered into this like a pack of fools."

Lannon could barely see anyone around him, even though they sat on horseback just a few feet away. The fog clung to his skin and made his flesh crawl. The air had warmed considerably, and moisture was beaded on his face.

The Eye of Divinity revealed the fog as a living creature--like some kind of Goblin that had a shifting, vaporous form. It had been spawned deep within the Bloodlands, a rare creature that had taken decades to reach maturity. The Blood Legion had modified it somehow with dark sorcery--giving it the will to attack and confuse the Divine Knights. But Lannon's gaze pierced it and glimpsed a large pack of Goblin Wolves charging through the snow. He yelled a warning and pulled the Eye into a shield around him--while still leaving himself with a small field of magical vision. He drew his Dragon sword.

Grinning, Jerret yanked his broadsword from its sheath. The blade--made of stout Glaetherin, a material that was very suitable for channeling sorcery--shimmered with crimson fire. "Just tell me where to swing, Lannon!"

Aldreya drew her dagger, her green eyes darting about as she sought to glimpse enemies in the mist. She rode alongside Galvia, whose war hammer was glowing so hot it looked like it had just come from the forge.

Vannas held forth the White Flamestone, and its light seemed to push back the fog a bit--but visibility barely increased.

"The fog is a living creature!" Lannon warned.

Calmly, Lothrin prepared his bow. He sat relaxed in the saddle, his head tilted to one side as if he were listening for his enemies. "Use your weapon against the fog, my cousin," he said to Vannas.

But the prince made no move. He looked hesitant.

"Lothrin is right," said Jace, who sat on horseback close to Vannas. "You may be able to burn the fog."

"Yes, attack the fog!" Taris ordered.

But before Vannas could do so, the Wolves were amongst them. With Lannon being the only one who could see more than a couple of feet in any direction, mass confusion resulted. The Wolves used their keen sense of smell to find their enemies, leaving the Knights at a large disadvantage. The attack would have been far more devastating if most of the Knights had not been heavily armored, as snapping Wolf jaws were repeatedly turned away by thick leather and steel.

Taris commanded everyone to hold formation, but the wall of Knights that surrounded the Squires soon broke apart. Magically charged weapons hacked into Wolf flesh and bone, and colorful sparks erupted in the fog along with cries of pain from both Knights and Goblins.

A Wolf leapt from the fog at Lothrin, but he shot the beast in the heart and then ducked as the Wolf flew over him. The Wolf was dead before it hit the snow. Lothrin sat up calmly and readied another arrow.

Jerret swung viciously at a Wolf with his broadsword and missed, throwing himself off balance in the saddle. The Wolf seized his fur cloak with its jaws and yanked him from his horse. The two disappeared into the snow and fog. Lannon's gaze quickly found them, however, and he seized the Wolf with the Eye of Divinity and held it motionless while Jerret impaled the beast.

Vannas twisted about in the saddle as dark shapes moved around him in the mist. "I cannot tell friend from foe!" he yelled, his eyes wide.

Then a huge hand reached from the fog and seized his shoulder. It was Jace. "Ignore the wolves!" Jace commanded. "Concentrate on the fog!"

Vannas blasted white fire into the mist, at a high enough angle that no Knights were in its path. The fog parted, allowing the energy beam to pass through harmlessly. "It's not working!"

"Widen your attack," came Taris' command from somewhere nearby. "Everyone move away from him!"

Vannas closed his eyes, his face grim with focus, and the White Flamestone became engulfed in a radiant glow. He waited while the others (with the help of Lannon's guidance) rode away from him.

"Be careful, young prince!" Jace warned. "You could do as much harm as good!"

"I can control it," Vannas insisted.

"We're about twelve feet away from you, Prince Vannas," Lannon called out. He threw all of his energy into shielding himself, wondering if the Eye was strong enough to protect him from the White Flamestone's wrath. He hoped Vannas knew what he was doing and that the whole company of Knights and Squires didn't end up as piles of ash.

A Wolf burst through the defenders and charged at Vannas, but Lannon seized it with the Eye and dragged it down into the snow. Then the radiant glow burst forth in all directions for several feet, turning the Wolf to ash.

The fog itself started to burn, shuddering and recoiling as if in pain. The white fire seemed to know where to go, avoiding the Knights and horses as it burned away the fog. Moments later, the mist had dispersed and the remaining Wolves were revealed. The Knights quickly put an end to them.

A few Knights were injured from Wolf bites, but otherwise they had come through unscathed. Cheers arose and they chanted Vannas' name, as he sat beaming in the saddle. Lannon groaned quietly, thinking the prince's ego was sure to expand some more--though Lannon couldn't deny that Vannas seemed destined for great deeds and deserved the praise.

***

The riders wondered if the journey was going to consist of one ambush after the next, but as the sun rose and set and the mountains grew distant, they encountered no further trouble. The weather warmed during their journey on the Boulder Plains, and melting snow slid off of rocks and pines around them. A spring rain began to fall, soaking the riders. Fog settled over the snow again--only this time Taris assured them it was the natural kind.

Natural or not, however, the fog caused fears of another ambush. Two Elder Hawks circled low above, scanning the mist for enemies. Massive boulders loomed like Ogre sentinels in the fog, and roots from fallen pines jutted up like clusters of Pit Crawlers here and there. The riders were glimpsing false Goblins everywhere, and tension was high. The Squires huddled together on their horses, knowing they were the prime targets of any attack. Lannon knew that a single arrow from the fog could mean his end, but continuously shielding himself with the Eye of Divinity or probing the landscape around him made him tire quickly, so he simply entrusted his fate to the Knights who guarded him.

In spite of his powers, Lannon was still flesh and blood, and death could take him in an instant from the world. He wished he had the ability to make himself immune to damage. Lannon had tried wearing Glaetherin armor offered by the Knights, but it was heavy and seemed to distract from his ability to channel the Eye. He realized he would always be vulnerable--able to die from the cut of the simplest blade. He could only shield himself briefly and then he was no different than any other Squire. Lannon would never even possess the resilience of Taris Warhawk or Jace--men with bodies that had been strengthened by sorcery over the years to the point where they aged much slower and healed much faster than normal men.

That evening they camped near the shores of the Grey Lake. The Squires were provided with a large tent to accommodate them all, and they were placed under heavy guard. As night settled over the land and the rain beat down steadily on the tent, the Squires sat around a bulky Olrog lantern that had been specifically designed for safe use in tents. They summoned the fires of sorcery to dry out their clothes. Soon it was warm and comfortable in the tent.

"I like the sound of the raindrops," said Lothrin, who sat sharpening his dagger. "It reminds me of Borenthia--the rain falling in the treetops. When others would sit inside, I would venture out in the rain along the branches to hunt." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I always loved the smell of the forest during those times."

"What animals did you hunt in the rain, cousin?" asked Vannas.

"Many things," said Lothrin, his eyes distant. "Some animals will only be seen when the rains fall. The meat is a true delight."

Vannas shrugged. "If you say so. I wouldn't know, because I always stayed indoors during the rainy season in front of a warm fireplace."

"I long for home constantly," said Aldreya, sighing. "Dwelling in that frozen cave of Dorok's Hand made me realize how good life was in Borenthia."

"I miss Borenthia as well," said Vannas, "especially the Royal Hall--but not enough that I'd care to return there anytime soon. Dorok's Hand is such a foul place it makes one want to live anywhere else. Now that we've left that wretched fortress behind, I feel good again about being a Squire."

Lothrin held up his dagger and inspected it in the lantern light, then put it to the sharpening stone again. "Home is wherever we are, and we must make the most of it."

Lannon thought of the little cabin in the woods where his mother and father had spent their days feuding while Lannon struggled with constant boredom. He wasn't surprised to find he didn't miss it. "My home is Dremlock Kingdom," he said, "until the end of my days."

"As is mine," said Galvia. "I am the daughter of a fisherman from Silvergate. My life was wretched until the Knights recruited me."

"In what way?" asked Jerret, leaning close to her.

Galvia shrugged. "In ways I won't talk about, so don't bother asking."

Jerret rolled his eyes. "Come on, we're all friends here."

Galvia hesitated, then said, "I had a hard life on the boats, if you must know. Too many drunken men around who care nothing for the welfare of others--especially women. I had to learn to protect myself from an early age, because my father seldom protected me." She bowed her head. "It doesn't matter now. The Knights took me away from there and now I have a home and a purpose."

"I'm sorry to hear about your childhood, Galvia," said Aldreya.

"Me too," said Jerret, with a troubled expression.

Galvia gazed at Jerret. "So what about you, Jerret Dragonsbane? What kind of life did you lead before Dremlock?"

Jerret looked uncomfortable. "Mine was boring. Very boring."

"Then by all means keep it to yourself," said Prince Vannas, yawning. He leaned back on his elbows. "I'd rather not hear a boring story."

"I want to hear it," said Galvia.

"Trust me, you don't," said Jerret. He shifted about, almost appearing to squirm. "It will put you to sleep."

Galvia gave him a curious stare.

Lothrin sheathed his dagger, his green eyes gleaming in the lantern light. The lean Squire sat with his legs crossed, some jerky on one knee and his sharpening stone on the other. His long, silver hair partially concealed the strange, leaf-shaped birthmark on his face. "The past doesn't matter now, because we're here together. We can make our own destiny."

Vannas held up the pouch containing the White Flamestone. "My destiny is this, cousin. The only destiny I want or need."

Lothrin shook his head. "Your destiny is not a stone, oh prince. That's just a weapon, like my dagger."

"Not just a weapon," said Vannas. "The ultimate weapon."

"Don't be a prisoner of that stone," said Lothrin, frowning.

"Prisoner?" said Vannas. "Hardly. This Flamestone is bonded to me. It is a part of me now and a part of my future."

"You're a man," said Lothrin. "Flesh and blood, and nothing more. Be a simple man who holds a great stone, not a great man who holds a great stone--or that stone will crush you with the weight of its burden."

Vannas laughed. "You and your silly riddles. I always did like that about you. It amuses me."

Lothrin chuckled. "Glad I can entertain, at least."

Lannon considered the meaning of Lothrin's words. Vannas seemed obsessed with the White Flamestone and terribly overconfident--not hesitant in the least to brag about his power, as if he'd forgotten it all came from the stone. He seemed too caught up in his own greatness and sense of destiny. Lannon wondered why the Eye of Divinity had never had that same effect on him. Lannon had always been fearful of the Eye, and though his confidence in using it had increased, the fear and uncertainty remained. The Eye of Divinity seemed darker than the White Flamestone and laced with peril, having led the Dark Watchmen to a bad end. On the other hand, perhaps the power of the White Flamestone seemed incorruptible to Vannas--and perhaps it was incorruptible, but Vannas himself was not.

Thrake Wolfaxe stepped into the tent, rain dripping from his beard. He sat down and smiled. His huge, muscular form shivered beneath the fur cloak he wore over his armor. He seemed to take up half the tent. "Greetings, Squires."

They greeted him in return. Aldreya quickly moved to his side to dry him with her dagger, but Thrake seized her arm. "None of that," he said gruffly, pushing her away. "I'll take care of it myself."

Aldreya bowed and sat back down.

Thrake drew his own dagger and set to work drying himself off with the mystical fire. "You should be able to rest easy, Squires. You're very well protected. No foe can get to this tent without a serious fight on his hands."

"Thank you, Master Thrake," said Jerret, who idolized the Red Knight and seemed to think of him almost like an older brother. "I know that with you guarding us, we have nothing to fear."

For an instant, a shadow of doubt settled over Thrake's face. Then he gave a weary smile. "I hope that's true, Jerret."

"Thanks to you and Master Shennen," said Prince Vannas, "I can sleep in peace." He hesitated, then said, "Master Shennen is guarding us as well, right?"

Thrake frowned. "Yes."

"Is something wrong?" asked Vannas, his eyes narrowing.

"Nothing I will speak of," said Thrake.

"It's about Master Shennen," said Aldreya. "Right?"

Thrake glared at her. "Did you not hear what I just said, Birlote? I don't care to speak about this topic."

"My apologies," said Aldreya.

Thrake slapped his knee and sighed. "I didn't come here to be harsh with you Squires. Rather, I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of you. I've never seen a finer or more talented group of Squires in all my years. And I would gladly die protecting you, as you are the future of Dremlock Kingdom."

The Squires exchanged delighted glances (with the exception of Lothrin whose face betrayed no expression) and thanked the famed Red Knight for his kind words. Jerret looked especially pleased.

"Master Thrake," said Jerret, "you're the greatest Knight of all."

Thrake chuckled, his face reddening a bit. "No, Jerret, that praise belongs to our Lord Knight, Cordus Landsaver."

"But you'll be Lord Knight someday," said Jerret. "I know it!"

Thrake gazed at Jerret in silence for a moment. Then he said, "If I had a son, I would want him to be like you, Jerret."

Jerret bowed, a broad grin on his face. "I appreciate the kind words, Master! I've learned a lot from you and...and I owe you so much. The training you gave me in Dorok's Hand did wonders for me."

Thrake shook his head. "You owe me nothing, Jerret. But you owe it to yourself to become a great Knight, my young friend. Even if your color class does have to be Blue." He scowled as he spoke that last statement, then winked. "Not that Blue isn't a fine class, of course."

Jerret sighed. "I'd rather be Red like you."

"You still might get your wish," said Thrake. "Clearly, you were not meant to be a Blue Knight and this could be a temporary assignment."

"I can only hope," said Jerret.

"Anyway, I'm so very proud of all of you!" said Thrake. He drank deeply from a flask, and the smell of wine was strong in the tent. "Our future is bright, and we will triumph over the Deep Shadow!"

Prince Vannas clapped his hands together. "Well said!"

"Agreed," said Lannon, his mood soaring. He suspected the wine had softened Thrake's normally cold and gruff personality, but he deeply appreciated the Red Knight's kind words and optimism.

"I have something else to tell you," said Thrake, a troubled expression settling over his face. "I want you to beware of..."

Thrake let his words trail off as Shennen stepped into the tent. The Lord of the Blue Knights gazed sternly at Thrake--his shining Birlote eyes contrasting his pale face. "What going on in here?"

Thrake shrugged. "Just having a friendly chat with the Squires and drying myself off. Nothing important."

Shennen's eyes narrowed. "You're supposed to be standing guard outside, Thrake, not sitting in here indulging in comforts."

Thrake nodded. "Sorry, Shennen. But what does it matter? If I'm in here, I'm still guarding them."

"Because I want the Squires in this tent alone," said Shennen. "You may check on them briefly through the entrance."

Thrake looked troubled. "Why?"

Shennen hesitated. "Reasons of my own, and none of your concern."

"I'm part of the Divine Shield," said Thrake, glowering. "So it is my concern! I find your insistence on the Squires being alone in here to be...unsettling. I realize there was that assassin at Dremlock, but still..."

Shennen glowered back. "I am the Lord of the Blue Knights, Thrake. Are you the Lord of the Red Knights? No, there is someone ranked above you named Furlus Goblincrusher. So therefore, I am also ranked above you, Divine Shield or not. So therefore, you will submit to my commands. Is that understood?"

The Squires exchanged tense looks.

"It's understood, Shennen," Thrake said. "But know this--I will be checking on the Squires quite a bit."

"Good," said Shennen, giving a forced smile. "I would expect no less from you. And tell Jace he is not allowed in here either, if he tries to enter."

Thrake sat in silence for a moment looking almost helpless, then gave a shrug. "If you order it, I guess I have to obey. But I strongly question this and will take the issue to Taris when my guard duty has ended for the night."

Shennen nodded. "Speak to Taris all you want. I care not." His piercing gaze fell on Lannon. It seemed to hold a warning of doom that made Lannon's heart sink. "Those who question me should beware!"

Thrake thrust out his chin defiantly. "Beware of what?"

"You'll know soon enough," said Shennen, smiling at Thrake. "Sooner than you think. And the lesson will be harsh."

"Master Shennen--" Lannon started to protest.

"Silence, Squire!" Shennen interrupted, dismissing Lannon with a wave.

"Did you just threaten me?" Thrake growled.

Shennen's hand slipped down to the hilt of his Flayer. His eyes twinkled. "No, I just let you in on my thoughts. Now you know them."

"And I don't like them!" said Thrake. "There is something different about you, Shennen. I wish I knew what it was. Everyone knows you've been behaving strangely."

Shennen laughed. "Think what you will."

Thrake rose. "Maybe I'll just go and have a chat with Taris right now, so we can settle this!"

"Have at it," said Shennen, looking amused. "And Taris will do nothing. So don't bother wasting your time."

Thrake's mouth hung open in disbelief. "I can't believe the way you're behaving. All these years that I've known you..."

"Enough talk!" Shennen muttered. "Actions are all that matter, so do something or be silent!" With that, he strode out of the tent.

His face pale and his knuckles white as he clutched his axe, Thrake followed into the pouring rain, closing the tent flap behind him.

The Squires sat there in silence, dismayed and filled with dread.