Knights The Hand of Tharnin

chapter 7: Kingdom Under Siege

The company rode quickly for Dremlock, refusing to camp--though they stopped to rest now and then. The weather cleared during the afternoon, the clouds parting to reveal blue sky. As evening fell across the land, a few bright stars were visible, along with the pale moon. They encountered no more ambushes. The demon man remained unconscious and slumped over a saddle, bound securely in the Birlote rope. Lannon kept glancing at him, amazed they had succeeded in defeating him and wondering if the rope could really hold him should he happen to awaken.

At one point, Taris ordered the company to halt so they could discuss the situation. "I had a bit of time to think about this," said Taris, "and it may be in our best interests to try to remove the gauntlet while the demon man is unconscious and sink it deep into a bog somewhere--to be rid of it forever."

"But don't we need to study the device?" said Jace, looking dismayed at Taris' suggestion. "Imagine the secrets we can learn about the Deep Shadow from it. Furthermore, you have an illness that might never be cured unless we unlock the mysteries of this Hand of Tharnin. Your life may depend on it."

"My life means nothing," said Taris, "when all of Dremlock is at stake. I am willing to take my chances with my illness, just to be rid of the device. Of course, it would be very dangerous to try to free the gauntlet on such short notice, without having our blacksmiths study it."

"We could remove the gauntlet safely," said Thrake, his eyes narrowing. "One swipe from my burning axe, and the wound would be sealed instantly. The man would lose an arm--but gain his freedom."

Vorden started to speak, but Taris motioned for him to be silent. "This is for the Knights to decide alone. We will bear this burden."

"If we remove the gauntlet," said Thrake, "we can dispose of it in some deep, secluded place where it will never be seen again. The threat to Dremlock will be ended and the demon man will be free of his curse."

Lannon wanted to voice his opinion--to tell Taris that he couldn't let a chance at a cure escape him. He felt it was unfair that he had no say, considering he'd gone ahead and faced the demon man in combat. But a Tower Master of Dremlock was not to be questioned by a Squire, so Lannon kept quiet.

"Rest assured," said Thrake, "the cut would be swift and painless. It is indeed a grim task, but I'm sure he would feel nothing but gratitude later upon awakening--if in fact his mind has been enslaved by the device as we suspect."

"I hate to bring harm to Vellera," said Taris. "Especially if he is truly an innocent puppet of Tharnin. However, we find ourselves in a perilous situation. I believe we should go ahead and remove the device."

"But the gauntlet is part of him, in a way," said Jace. "To remove it by force might kill him. The sorcery is in his very blood."

"What are the chances," said Thrake, "that he will awaken and escape his bonds? That alone should be the deciding factor."

"My blows caught him off guard," said Jace. "I believe they did significant damage to his ability to remain conscious. I suppose it depends on how fast he is able to heal. But Dremlock hired me as an expert on magical relics, and I'm giving you my expert opinion. This man could very well die if we remove the device by force, leaving us with no chance to question him. It would be a terrible waste of an opportunity--and a waste of an innocent life."

Taris bowed his head in thought. At last he said, "Very well, Jace. I will trust your wisdom in this matter. I too want to see Vellera live. However, if the demon man begins to awaken, can you put him to sleep again?"

"I would have to strike a defenseless man," said Jace, raising his eyebrows "and I'm not very fond of that notion. Not in the least."

"It's either that," said Taris, "or Thrake must do his grim work and remove the gauntlet. We simply cannot risk the demon man breaking free."

"Either choice is barbaric," said Jace. "If I were to strike him too hard, or release too much sorcery, I could cause him to suffer permanent madness--or I might even accidentally kill him. Sadly, I don't have a great deal of control over my attack method. It just doesn't work that way. Besides, Birlote rope is very stout. With his hands bound, he might not even be much of a threat."

"I'm afraid you must choose one of the two options," said Taris. He took a step toward his horse and winced, holding his ribs. "And choose quickly, for I am growing quite weak. I don't like this anymore than you do, Jace. But the demon man could awaken at any moment, and I'm not convinced the Birlote rope can hold him. He is simply too dangerous to be taken lightly."

Jace muttered something under his breath, then said, "I suppose I will watch over him, and if he begins to awaken, I will attempt to carefully send him back to sleep with a tap on the head. But it will be a risky move."

"I don't like it either," said Thrake, looking troubled. "But what choice do we have? If he awakens, he could destroy Dremlock. We were lucky to defeat him once, and we don't yet know the full power of the gauntlet."

"When Dremlock is at stake," said Taris, "we do what we must. Life doesn't always present us with a clear, honorable choice. Sometimes every path is ugly. As old as you are, Jace, you should know this."

Jace swung onto his horse, his face sullen. "I can only hope he doesn't awaken, then," he said, glancing over at Lannon. "I firmly believe Vellera is an innocent victim, and I may already have wounded him beyond repair."

Lannon nodded, but said nothing. His primary concern was helping Taris. He was still appalled at the level of suffering he'd glimpsed within the sorcerer--suffering that would have brought a lesser man to his knees. He understood why Taris' patience seemed worn so thin. He also wondered if Taris was still thinking clearly or if the dark infection that raged within him was affecting his mind.

As they traversed the steep trail and pine slopes of the Firepit Mountains, the wolves were hunting in vast numbers, their howls filling the air. Occasionally they would run across the trail in front of the riders. The Knights ignored them. The white wolves--huge, vicious predators (rumored to be descended from Goblins) with oversized teeth--lived in harmony with the Knights of Dremlock. It had been that way for centuries. Knight did not fear wolf, and wolf did not fear Knight. However, the presence of the demon man seemed to have put the wolves on edge.

When the company reached the gates of Darkender Tunnel, that led through the stone wall that shielded Dremlock from invasion, the guard met them with wild excitement in his eyes. He was a short, stocky Red Knight with a smooth and youthful face, and he looked on the verge of panic.

"Dremlock is under siege!" he cried, addressing Taris. "The North Tower has been taken by Goblins! The High Council is being held hostage! We sent a messenger on horseback. Did...did you meet with him?"

"No," said Taris, grimacing. "He must be dead. Open the gates!"

***

A vast company of Knights was gathered before the North Tower in the moonlight, weapons drawn and torches blazing. Some carried banners displaying the crest of Dremlock. Lannon had never seen anything like it. A feeling of extreme tension hung in the air. It seemed as if all of Dremlock was gathered for battle. Off to one side, a host of archers stood facing the tower.

The sea of Knights encircled the entire fortress. Various siege engines, including huge catapults, stood at the ready--weapons Lannon had never seen before. Elder Hawks--spies of Dremlock--circled above the tower, their shadows passing across the courtyard in the moonlight. And if all that wasn't enough, twelve enormous white wolves--trained servants of Dremlock--were present with their Knightly masters, sniffing at the bushes in the courtyard for hidden dangers.

Shennen Silverarrow, the famed Blue Knight, and Trenton Shadowbane, the Investigator of Dremlock, strode over to the company, their faces tense. Trenton held a Birlote torch, his silver hair neatly combed as usual and his rugged face bathed in the crimson glow of the torch's gem. He seldom smiled and usually looked grim, so his expression really wasn't any different than normal.

"What's going on here?" Taris demanded, his eyes wide. "It seems that half of Dremlock is present! Who ordered this gathering?"

"We have been betrayed," Trenton said coldly. "It was Garrin Daggerblood. He has taken the North Tower, leading a company of Goblins. It seems he was planning the attack for quite some time. He caught the High Council by surprise. Our Lord Knight is among those being held hostage!"

Lannon couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd never imagined one of the three great towers of Dremlock falling to the Goblins. Panic surged through him. If one tower could fall into enemy hands, perhaps the other two would be taken as well. And what would happen then? He imagined the Knights and Squires being rounded up and enslaved or killed--the fall of legendary Dremlock Kingdom.

"This should never have happened," said Taris. "The North Tower is well defended. What has become of our kingdom to allow this? Garrin must have had other help--more traitors to Dremlock."

"It happened from below," said Trenton, "from the escape tunnels that lead through the mines. It was a very well organized attack. Some type of mind possession was used on the Wheel Masters, and they were forced to open the gates. Any Knights who resisted were slain."

"Mind possession?" said Taris, frowning. "I haven't heard of Tharnin employing that technique for sometime, outside of the slow possession that the Deep Shadow inflicts. The laws must have changed yet again. This does not bode well for the survival of Dremlock, if minds can be controlled in an instant."

"That's all I know," said Trenton. "I learned that from a survivor who escaped into other tunnels. He was missing an arm--torn off by an Ogre."

Thrake Wolfaxe cursed. "Those tunnels below our kingdom will be the doom of us. We should have permanently sealed all of them."

"And left no escape route in case of invasion?" said Trenton, his lip curled into a sneer. "You're none too clever, Red Knight."

"Our escape routes are too well known," said Thrake. "Too many dangers lurk below. Seldom is Dremlock attacked from outside its walls. Lately, all of the attacks come from beneath us."

"We can debate this later," said Taris. "Nothing can be done about it right now. Our first order of business is to take back the North Tower."

"This is unbelievable," said Trenton, "that a high-ranking and respected Knight like Garrin could betray us like this. It wasn't mind control. Garrin gave in to the desires and will of the Deep Shadow. He allowed it to happen!"

"Of course he did," said Jace. "I warned the High Council, but they chose to ignore me. I knew Garrin was a man of weak character--just the type to fall victim to the promises of Tharnin."

"But what does he want?" said Taris.

Trenton pointed at Lannon, his eyes gleaming with what looked like malice. Trenton didn't seem to like Lannon. "He wants this Squire. He told us that if Lannon returns alive, to send him to the North Tower."

"No more duels," said Taris, shaking his head.

"He doesn't want a duel," said Shennen. "He claims he simply wants to meet with Lannon and give him a message. I'm thinking there will be an assassination attempt on the Squire, however."

"Why not storm the tower?" said Thrake, his voice quivering with rage. "With all the Knights gathered here, surely the Goblins would fall quickly. Our Lord Knight would prefer to die in battle rather than be killed as a hostage."

"If we storm the tower," said Trenton, "Garrin has promised to kill the High Council members. As the highest ranked Knight present, I have ordered our fighters to hold off. Of course, I now defer authority to Taris."

"You did well, Trenton," said Taris. "We cannot risk the lives of the High Council members. Lannon shall meet with Garrin alone."

"That's seems like folly," said Thrake, scowling. "Sending the Squire in by himself--into an obvious trap?"

"Yes," Taris mumbled, "but it shall be done."

Trenton glowered at Taris. "I find that to be a rather strange plan, Tower Master. Are you sure you're thinking clearly on this matter?"

Taris glowered back. "Are you questioning my judgment?" He touched his scarred cheek. "You think the Deep Shadow is working its will through me. Is that correct, Investigator?"

"Perhaps," said Trenton. "You bear some kind of infection of dark sorcery. As the Investigator of Dremlock, I could declare you temporarily unfit to command. I find this order very strange indeed!"

"I agree with Taris," said Jace. "We should send Lannon in alone. Except that he will not be alone. Isn't that right, Taris?"

Taris sat stoically for a moment, and then nodded. "There is a spy in the North Tower who likely remains undetected. I can say no more. If things go badly for Lannon, rest assured we will be alerted. Then we will attack."

"Tell me more about this spy," insisted Trenton. "Why was I never informed of this? Is it a Knight, or some type of creature?"

"Only Tower Masters know of this," said Taris. "And Jace too, apparently, though I have no idea how he acquired that knowledge. We have no time to debate this. Lannon, enter the North Tower!"

Trembling, Lannon dismounted. His friends all looked quite unhappy as they gazed down at him from horseback--especially Vorden. Lannon nodded to them reassuringly, but his throat was dry with fear at the thought that, in spite of all these Knights, he was being forced to confront Garrin and his Goblins alone. It seemed utterly pointless. However, the determined look in Taris' eyes told him that arguing would be equally pointless.

Lannon made his way through the gathering of Knights to the keep's front door. The massive North Tower loomed over him in the moonlight, suddenly very sinister in appearance. It seemed like a dark lair of death, where his foes waited to close around him and cut him off from all hope.

Two Knights started forward to help with the huge door, but Lannon motioned them to stay away, fearing for the hostages inside. He tried seizing the door with the Eye of Divinity, but he couldn't seem to connect. Something about the design of the door resisted his efforts. For a moment, his fear of using the Eye overwhelmed him and his power almost failed completely, but he forced himself to regain his focus, remembering what was at stake.

Feeling embarrassed for having refused the Knights' offers to help, Lannon grabbed the door handle with his hands, pulling with all his might. The door wouldn't budge. He channeled the Eye into his muscles in an effort to generate the power necessary for the task. It was a strange way to use the Eye, but slowly the door opened, and Lannon stepped inside.

Dremlock Hall was filled with Goblins--mostly Jackals, but there were two Goblin Lords and an Ogre as well. Chairs and tables were overturned, and Goblins were devouring meat and bread. The Ogre was gnawing on a side of raw beef, his huge teeth crunching through bone. His huge head, with black eyes, lifted when Lannon walked into the room. He stood up and started toward the Squire, the claws from his long, crooked arms dragging on the stone floor.

But the Goblin Lords stepped in front of the Ogre--more Priests of Tharnin carrying dark staffs. They regarded Lannon with what appeared to be amused looks. Lannon was sickened by the sights in Dremlock Hall. The Goblins had gotten into everything, with no regard for the priceless treasures of the North Tower. Ancient paintings of famous Knights had been torn from the walls and damaged. The Sacred Water of Dremlock--water blessed by the Divine Essence and stored in crystal flasks for rituals--had been pulled from shelves on the walls and scattered across the floor. One of the Jackals was lapping some of it up with his long tongue.

The Goblin Lords pointed at the stairs that led up through the tower. "Go to the fifth floor," one of them hissed. "Garrin waits for you there, in his chamber. He will provide you with further instructions."

Lannon started up the stairs, and the priests followed. Lannon probed behind him with the Eye of Divinity, making sure they didn't attack. But he sensed no such intent. They simply plodded along in their soft leather boots up the stone steps, until the trio reached the fifth floor and the Lord Knight's chamber, the entrance to which was a large oaken door at the end of a hall.

Lannon felt a surge of anger that Garrin had decided to make Cordus Landsaver's chamber his own, and it dulled his fear a bit. He probed the door for traps, and finding none, entered the room

Garrin sat on a large bed with a wooden frame carved with Birlote runes. He was smoking a pipe. A flask of wine sat on a stand next to him. The large bedchamber was bathed in lantern light, revealing two statues of Knights that stood on either side of a large, shuttered window, and more paintings.

"Close the door, Lannon," Garrin said. "You have nothing to fear. I'm alone in here and just want to talk to you and offer you some wine."

Lannon did as instructed. Then he walked to the bed and stood before his former master. "Why have you done this, Garrin?"

Garrin smiled and blew out some pipe smoke. "Done what? Claimed this tower as my own? Enslaved the useless High Council? I haven't done anything wrong. The North Tower finally has a real master within it--a powerful and wise master, unlike that useless drunken oaf Cordus. Oh, did you know he has a problem with wine? Yes, he drinks it every day, which is a violation of the Sacred Laws' demand for moderation. By evening he has usually lost his wits. It's an embarrassment to the High Council, yet they do nothing about it. And he's seeing a lady friend who lives farther down the mountain. Your great hero Cordus is one who has no regard for the so-called Sacred Laws. And here you thought he was so perfect."

Lannon's anger boiled over at Garrin's words. "I don't believe you. Why should I trust the words of someone possessed by the Deep Shadow?" But Lannon remembered that Cordus often had bloodshot eyes in the evening and that he frequently journeyed down the mountain on mysterious errands. Considering the immense pressure the Lord Knight was under, Lannon could forgive him for a few lapses in judgment. But Garrin's words couldn't help but tarnish Cordus' image in Lannon's mind.

"But who cares what that fool does?" said Garrin. "He is the worst Lord Knight Dremlock has ever had. I would have killed him already, except I need him alive to keep the Knights--those puppets gathered around my tower--at bay. And I am certainly not possessed by the Deep Shadow. I have chosen to serve Tharnin willingly. Why? Because Tharnin offers me the promise of wealth and power far beyond what this pitiful kingdom can offer. I would never have been made the Lord Knight here, because my color is Blue, and Blue means assassinations. Blue Knights receive a type of scorn that other colors do not suffer. It's unfair. But I've always been a man driven by power. I simply hid it well. The Knights thought they had me right where they wanted me, wandering around that wretched East Tower training fools like you in the arts of stealth and murder, wasting my life. But, as you can see, that was never my destiny. My skills are tremendously useful to Tharnin."

"I still think you're possessed," said Lannon. "You've changed a lot since I first met you. I respected you a great deal once."

"You just want to believe that," said Garrin. "But the truth is, I haven't changed one bit other than to grow more determined to rise above my challenges. I never actually liked you, Lannon. In fact, I hated your miserable hide from the first day I met you. I did my best to sabotage your training, which is why the other Squires have advanced beyond you. Unfortunately, I couldn't make you fail completely. Not with other trainers on hand--and that wretched power you possess."

Garrin's words hurt Lannon deeply, but he didn't let it show. "It doesn't matter anyway. You wanted to see me, so here I am. I defeated the demon man and he is a prisoner. So if you're relying on him, don't bother."

"I don't need him," said Garrin. "He is in league with the Blood Legion--a puppet of theirs. I serve Tharnin directly, under the command of a great master. You know him as Tenneth Bard. I command an army of Goblins!"

"What do you want from me?" Lannon asked. "And if you really serve Tenneth Bard, then what does he want from me?"

Garrin laid his pipe aside and sipped some wine. "I won't speak for my master. But as for what I want--perhaps I just want you to watch while my Jackals tear apart your precious Lord Knight. We've got him in a cell in Dremlock Dungeon. Perhaps I want to reason with you, to persuade you to join with us and use your power for a noble cause."

Lannon shuddered. "Never."

Garrin hurled the wine flask against a painting of Kuran Darkender. The flask shattered, and red wine ran down like blood from the greatest Knight who had ever lived. "You think you're so noble, Lannon Sunshield. It disgusts me. You don't realize how the world has changed, how good and evil are not so easily defined anymore. Your silly notion of a shining kingdom filled with heroic Knights is nothing but an illusion. Those types of heroes do not exist."

"What do you want from me?" Lannon repeated.

"You were trained to cut throats and stab backs," Garrin went on. "Trained for assassin missions. How does that make you feel? How would it feel to creep up on a young warrior from the Blood Legion--a young man like you with concerned parents waiting for news of his welfare--and run your blade across his neck?"

Lannon shook his head. "I won't do that."

"Then you'll never be a Knight!" shouted Garrin. He glared at Lannon, and then smiled. "To be a Knight, you must enjoy killing. I know I did. I've killed many Goblins...and many men. And I enjoyed killing the men more than the Goblins. Men beg to be spared. Goblins do not."

"Either tell me why you've brought me here," said Lannon, "or I'm leaving. I won't stand here and listen to this."

Garrin hurled a book against the wall, knocking a painting down. "You'll do whatever I tell you, or Cordus Landsaver will die in agony. I have only to give a shout and the cruel deed will be done. Is that understood?"

Lannon looked around again. There was no one else in the room. He focused his gaze on Garrin, probing him with the Eye of Divinity.

Garrin's eyes widened. "You wretch of a Squire! You hope to use your vile power on me, because we're alone? I trained you! I shared great secrets with you!" He leapt off the bed and drew his long, curved dagger--his Flayer. "I brought you here so we could talk peacefully--to ask if you would surrender yourself to Tharnin so your precious Lord Knight can be spared. Yet now I see a shadow of menace in your gaze, as if you dare to...to threaten me."

Lannon stepped toward Garrin. "You're not going to kill Master Cordus, or anyone else for that matter. You're the one who'd better surrender." His legs were weak with fear, but he gazed at Garrin sternly. It was clear that Garrin had underestimated Lannon's maturity level and confidence, that he'd never expected Lannon to turn the Eye of Divinity against him.

Garrin's hand trembled as he held the Flayer. "And what if I don't surrender? Will you murder me where I stand?"

"No, but I'll take you prisoner," Lannon said, and he seized Garrin with the Eye, hoping to freeze him motionless. He caught Garrin off guard and pinned his arms to his sides.

Garrin's face burned crimson with fury. His eyes shone with a yellow glint as he fought to break Lannon's hold. Slowly, his hand came up, the curved dagger gleaming in the lantern light.

Lannon realized that he lacked the strength to stop Garrin from stabbing him. Either Garrin possessed some fanatical strength of will or Lannon was still weak from his duel with the demon man. Regardless, the dagger was charged with powerful dark sorcery, a spiteful energy that desired only to shred Lannon's flesh. In moments, it would strike Lannon's heart and the battle would be over.

Reacting on instinct, Lannon unleashed the full power of the Eye upon Garrin, shoving him backwards with vicious force. Garrin struck the wooden window shutters and smashed them into splinters, his scream echoing into the night air. And then he was gone from the fifth-floor window.

Drastically weakened, Lannon collapsed to the floor and lay struggling to catch his breath. Moments later, the sounds of shouts, howls, and clanking weapons came from below. The Divine Knights had chosen to invade.

Lacking the strength for battle, Lannon simply lay there and listened, praying the Knights would dispatch their foes swiftly. Regardless, his mind was haunted by a grim realization.

"I have killed my master," he whispered, groaning.