Knights The Heart of Shadows

chapter 7: The Watchmen's Keep

When they stopped to make camp for the evening, the weather was bitterly cold. A few bright stars burned in the heavens, in between some massive bone-white clouds. The snow was frozen into a crust. They were on a wide hilltop surrounded by a few huge oaks with ice hanging from their branches. An ancient stone tower stood nearby, rising up above some treetops. Soon the hill was covered in Knightly tents, and then everyone took refuge inside to warm themselves (except for some shivering guards who were charged with watching the camp).

The Squires took turns warming their tent's interior with sorcery (except for Lannon, of course, who still couldn't manage to enchant a blade). Galvia was awake, alert, and heavily bandaged. She lay atop a quilt, and her mood was sullen--almost sad. The Squires tried in vain to cheer her up.

"What's bothering you so much?" Jerret asked. He was seated on the floor with his broadsword across his lap. He seemed to have taken quite a liking to Galvia, perhaps because of her skills as a warrior.

"It's nothing," Galvia said, but her eyes told a different tale. Part of her dark-grey hair had come unbraided, but she made no effort to fix it. Her broad face looked pained, but from wounds to the spirit more than the body. The other Squires knew that Galvia, being a stout and resilient Dwarf, probably had little concern for her physical injuries. She was suffering on a deeper level.

"I don't believe you," said Jerret. "You don't seem like yourself at all. I know it was a rough injury, but that can't be what's troubling you."

"Very well," said Galvia, with a heavy sigh and a bitter expression. "I can't believe I let those Wolves corner me. That was so foolish, and it put everyone at risk. It was as if I forgot all my training--and I mean all of it. Prior to the battle, I thought I knew exactly what to do. Then when things got chaotic, I lost focus."

"It could have happened to any of us," Jerret reassured her. "No amount of training can prepare you completely for real combat. But you survived, and you gained valuable experience."

"What if I'm not meant for battle?" said Galvia. "Some people are born to be warriors, and some can never live like that. Maybe I chose the wrong way of life."

"I highly doubt that," said Jerret. "You have some powerful skills, and besides, you're a Grey Dwarf. What Olrog doesn't have a natural affinity for combat?"

"There are many Olrogs," said Galvia, "who do not make good warriors. Some went to Dremlock to become Knights--and failed."

"You'll be fine," said Lannon. "As Jerret said, you're a very talented Squire." He rummaged around in his pack and found some delicious cake he'd been saving. He longed to eat it, but instead he offered it to Galvia.

Galvia shook her head. "Not hungry."

With a shrug, Lannon raised the piece of cake for a bite, when Jerret snatched it from him and crammed it in his mouth. Lannon glared at him.

"Thanks," Jerret mumbled, his mouth full of cake.

"Maybe I don't belong on this Divine Shield," said Galvia, sighing. "Yes, I think it was a mistake to include me. I should request to be removed."

"Nonsense," said Aldreya, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. "We're glad to have you with us, Galvia. The Knights chose you for a good reason. They gave you a great honor in adding you to the Divine Shield."

"That was my first real battle," said Galvia, pulling her hand away from Aldreya's. Her eyes looked haunted. "I expected far better of myself. I guess I wasn't as well trained as I thought, in spite of all the promotions I've received and the belief that I would soon become a Knight."

"May I fix your hair?" said Aldreya. "The braids have come undone."

Galvia nodded.

"You're pondering it too much," said Lothrin, who'd been reading a book by the lantern light. "If you keep dwelling on it, you will let it destroy your confidence." He held up the book. "This is the story of Molth Bloodbow, a Birlote warrior who lost his confidence after a battle and ended up becoming a merchant. Anyway, I'm halfway through the book, and he has come to hate himself for his decision. I'm sure he is headed for a miserable end, full of regrets. You don't want to end up like Molth Bloodbow, do you?"

Galvia managed a smile. "Definitely not. I would hate to be a merchant."

"Lothrin is right," said Aldreya. "Let it go and move on."

"Olrogs take everything too seriously," said Vannas, with a dismissive wave. "To the rest of us, it's just battle--and battle is chaotic. But to an Olrog it means everything, especially that first taste of it." He shook his head in amusement. "I'm glad I was born a Birlote and cannot relate to such thinking."

"Molth Bloodbow was a Birlote," Lothrin reminded him.

"That's just a silly story," said Vannas.

"You're lumping all the Grey Dwarves together unfairly, cousin," said Aldreya. "Don't forget that everyone is unique."

"Prince Vannas is right about me, though," said Galvia. "I feel like I've failed everyone. I've failed Dremlock. I guess I just need time to get over it. Yet I keep seeing those Wolves in my mind, tearing into me. I felt helpless--not at all like a warrior. The Olrog Elders would be ashamed of me."

Lannon didn't like what he was hearing. "That way of thinking is dangerous, Galvia. You owe it to Dremlock, and yourself, to put this behind you. You're not perfect. You're going to make plenty of mistakes on the path to Knighthood."

"Lannon speaks true," said Jerret. "We've all done stupid things and learned from them. You're young like the rest of us. Give yourself time to grow."

"I'll try," Galvia promised, wincing as she probed the bandages on her stomach. But she continued to look depressed.

"Just focus on your recovery," said Aldreya, concern in her eyes. "The Healers managed to save your life, and now you need to do the work to get back on your feet. You'll feel better once you're up and about."

"And those were no ordinary Wolves that cornered you," Jerret reminded Galvia. "They were extremely cunning and powerful."

"If I may change the subject and give Galvia a bit of peace," said Vannas, "that whole incident in Elder Oak was alarming."

"Indeed, those were extraordinary Goblins," said Aldreya. "Maybe the Blood Legion created them somehow and sent them to invade the town. It could be part of a new plot to take over all of Silverland."

"That doesn't seem likely," said Lannon. "For one thing, not all Goblins serve the Blood Legion. Many are simply spawned in the Bloodlands and are wild creatures. But assuming these Goblins were under command of the Legion--which the presence of the two priests seemed to suggest--what would they have stood to gain by invading Elder Oak?"

"Supplies, perhaps," said Lothrin. "It appeared the Goblins were gathering items in the tunnels below the town, perhaps to take back to Old Hammer Hall. Maybe the Blood Legion is running low on provisions."

"But the supplies were being consumed," said Aldreya. "The food and drink was scattered all about. I got the impression the Goblins weren't planning on going anywhere and were simply indulging in their loot."

"It does seem that way," Lothrin admitted.

"It's another Goblin Puzzle," said Lannon.

"Regardless," said Aldreya, "what those villagers endured was horrible. If we hadn't arrived there when we did, I'm sure they all would have perished. I wonder if there are other towns under attack by these new Goblins."

"I'm sure Taris will send word to Dremlock," said Lannon, "and more Knights will be dispatched to check on the villages of Silverland."

"There are a lot of small villages," said Vannas. "Far too many for the Knights to protect. But I'm sure Dremlock will do its best."

Aldreya rose. "Lannon, come outside for a moment."

Lannon nodded and followed her out into the night air. The guards glanced at them questioningly but said nothing. The two Squires moved a short distance away from them where they could talk privately in low voices.

"What's wrong?" Lannon asked.

Aldreya looked weary. "It's Galvia. Her mood troubles me. And I just needed to come out and get some fresh air."

Lannon shivered and adjusted his fur cloak. "Well, the air is certainly fresh out here. And rather cold."

"It's not just Galvia," Aldreya went on. "It's Vannas and Jerret as well. I can't understand them. I miss Vorden and Timlin."

Lannon missed them too, and hearing their names spoken aloud filled his heart with pain. "Vannas and Jerret are honorable, but a bit misguided. At least there is still hope for them. Not that I've given up on Vorden and Timlin, but..."

"I was hoping Galvia would be different," said Aldreya, "but I guess I can't relate to her either. I suffer from self doubt now and then, but she seems to be going way too far with it."

"She'll get over it," said Lannon. "She just needs time."

Aldreya stood silently for a moment, as if pondering something. Then she said, "If I tell you a secret, will you keep it?"

"I can keep a secret," said Lannon, "as long as it doesn't interfere with my duties as a Squire." This was an unusual move by Aldreya. She rarely opened up like this to anyone, and she wasn't one to share secrets.

"Of course," said Aldreya. "I would never ask you to violate the Sacred Laws. It's nothing like that." She seemed hesitant and perhaps a bit anxious.

"Well, go ahead," Lannon said, intrigued.

"Lately," she said, "I find myself wishing I had never come to Dremlock. It doesn't show, but I'm beginning to feel...a sort of despair. Nothing has worked out as I expected. I keep thinking of Borenthia and how much better my life was there. I know it's selfish, but I can't help myself."

"You're right," said Lannon, "it doesn't show." If anything, lately Aldreya had seemed more positive and caring than ever before. She'd become a bit sullen and quiet, but when someone was in need, she was quick to offer aid and comfort. Lannon had assumed she was focused only on becoming a Knight.

"I've hid it well," said Aldreya. "But you're a good friend, and I feel I can talk to you about things that Vannas and Jerret would just dismiss. And I don't really know Lothrin that well, as we never talked much while growing up."

"I didn't realize you were so troubled lately," said Lannon. He preferred the upbeat, optimistic Aldreya who seemed so sure of her place at Dremlock. But the life of a Squire (one who'd been thrown into action early) had clearly taken a toll on her, and this was who she'd become, for better or worse.

"Dremlock is so different than what I expected," Aldreya said. "I thought I would train in comfort and enrich my knowledge. Then, when I was a fully trained Knight, I would fight Goblins and the Blood Legion and return victorious from each battle. I had envisioned it to be a joyful way of life, filled with victory celebrations. But it has turned so ugly..." She shook her head. "So many things have gone wrong. I worry about the other Squires, especially Vannas who seems so overconfident. I keep having nightmares that my cousin ends up like Vorden and Timlin--cursed beyond hope and marked for death by Dremlock."

"I fear for them too," Lannon admitted. "But there is not much we can do about it beyond encouraging them to stay on the right path. We just have to take it day by day and hope for the best."

She nodded. "You're becoming wise, Lannon, and acting more like a Knight every day. I wish I could be like you."

Lannon raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Actually, I've been very impressed with you, lately. The way you brought comfort to that wounded villager... You're well on the path to Knighthood. Yes, you're going to have some doubts and regrets. But I'm certain you're going to be a great Knight, Aldreya."

"Maybe that's all I needed to hear," she said, smiling. She gave Lannon a hug.

Jerret poked his head out of the tent. "So what's going on out here?"

"Just having a friendly talk," said Lannon, who still had his arms around Aldreya. He could see the jealous glint in Jerret's eyes, and it amused him.

"A friendly talk, huh?" said Jerret, frowning. "A very friendly one, by the look of it. You are indeed getting bold, Lannon!"

Glaring, Aldreya picked up a chunk of snow and threw it at Jerret's face. He ducked back inside.

"Come on," she said to Lannon. "Let's go get warm."

But Lannon continued to stand out in the cold for a few moments, even after Aldreya had entered the tent. He understood why Aldreya's thinking was so different from his own. She'd had a wonderful home in her tree city of Borenthia, and he envied her for it. Lannon missed his parents (he planned to visit them when he got the chance) but he never wanted to live in that wooded valley again. His true home was Dremlock now and there was no doubt in his mind where he wanted to be. He was finding it easier to adjust to life at Dremlock than the other Squires because, all things considered, he had no other home. This was all there was for Lannon.

He stood atop the crusty snow, gazing at the few bright stars burning overhead. The life of a Divine Knight was a lonely one, but Lannon was used to that. He'd been alone growing up (with his parents too focused on each other and their constant battles to pay attention to him) and now, even with friends like Aldreya, he still felt alone. His power seemed to separate him from others, leaving him feeling detached. He wondered if the Dark Watchmen had felt that isolation and if it had helped drive them into the eager embrace of the Deep Shadow. As that last thought crept into his mind, Lannon's gaze was drawn to the ancient tower that stood nearby, its windows dark and empty in the starlight, and chills flooded down his spine.

***

Lannon had just returned to the tent and was feeling warm and relaxed under his quilt--and looking forward to a peaceful night of sleep--when Taris Warhawk leaned into the tent. "Come outside, Lannon," the sorcerer said, "and bring your climbing gear. Bring all of your tools, actually."

Lannon shoved aside the quilt and rose, strapping on his sword and tightening his fur cloak around him. He loaded up with all of his Blue Squire gear--rope and grapple hook, grip powder, lock-picking tools, and a tiny Glaetherin saw that could cut through steel. Then he stepped out into the freezing air, wondering what Taris wanted at this late hour.

Taris held a Birlote torch, and he pointed it toward the ancient tower. "Remember when I said I would tell you the story of the Dark Watchmen?"

Lannon nodded.

"Well, the time has come," Taris went on. "Except that I'm not going to merely tell it to you--I'm going to show it to you. That is the ancient meeting place of the Dark Watchmen, where they discussed the affairs of the land. It is a strange old keep, and a very dangerous one--still protected by dark sorcery. However, you will be safe enough under my guidance. And this will give you a chance to get some proper training as a Blue Squire."

Lannon gazed at the dark tower that rose above the treetops and shuddered. The keep struck fear into his heart, but he was eager to learn about the Dark Watchmen, and he felt he had little to fear with Taris accompanying him.

"This will be a good test for you," said Taris. "It could strengthen you and make you a greater threat to the Deep Shadow. Or it could be a very bitter experience. So yes, it has its risks. Are you prepared?"

Lannon considered it and felt confident he could do whatever Taris demanded of him. "I think I'm ready."

"Good," said Taris. "I figured you would be up to the challenge."

"Is anyone else coming with us?" Lannon asked.

"No," said Taris. "We must go alone. I don't want to put anyone else in danger. This keep is filled with traps for the unwary."

Without another word, Taris started down the hillside. Lannon hesitated for a moment, then hurried after him. Their boots made crunching noises on the crusty snow. They passed through a grove of ancient oak trees, at the center of which stood the old stone tower in a small clearing. It rose up about two-hundred feet into the air, its bulk darkly outlined against the stars. The lower half of the tower was webbed with ice-covered vines, and a large stone door stood before them. Two life-sized stone statues (also webbed in vines) of cloaked and hooded figures holding swords stood on either side of the door. The presence of dark sorcery overwhelmed Lannon, and he dreaded entering the tower. It seemed to have a grim intelligence behind it, something plotting his downfall even before he passed beyond the door. This was the darkest, strangest keep Lannon had ever encountered. Yet mixed with that darkness was beauty and a hint that this had once been a noble place.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" said Taris, running his fingers over the door. "This tower once stood for peace and justice--before the Deep Shadow corrupted it. Yet even after hundreds of years of darkness, one can still sense the presence of hope and honor that Tharnin has not been able to completely erase."

Lannon nodded, his emotions on edge. The Eye of Divinity revealed the tower as it once was--a beautiful keep surrounded by blessed oaks, where the guardians of Silverland would meet and hold extravagant feasts. The tower was the same in appearance after centuries--except that it was now murky with shadow. The power of Tharnin concealed its beauty and made it sinister.

The door had no handle.

"I entered through a window," Taris explained, "when I visited here before." He pointed to a window about forty feet above them. "We can gain access there, if we must. But this door was designed for one who possesses the Eye of Divinity. This whole tower was built for you, Lannon."

Lannon seized the stone door with the Eye and pulled. Slowly it came open enough to let them through. They stepped inside, and the door closed on its own behind them. Immediately, Lannon felt like he was home--like the whole tower was embracing him. For the first time in his life, he truly felt he was where he belonged. He had no doubt this ancient tower was indeed built for him.

They stood in an octagonal chamber with a trapdoor at the middle of it. Thirty feet above them was a stone ceiling with a round hole cut in it. Ancient boards and stone blocks lay strewn around, but otherwise the chamber was barren. Lannon could see no stairway leading upward. Lannon examined the trapdoor. It was made of stone, with an iron ring, and looked to be quite heavy.

"We're going up," Taris said, pointing at the hole above them.

Lannon flung the grapple hook up through the hole, but it snagged nothing and fell back down. He tried again and got the same result. He glanced at Taris. "I'm not sure there is anything I can hook up there."

"You could levitate yourself up," said Taris, shrugging.

Lannon considered it. He'd tried levitation before with the power of the Eye, but it quickly wore him out. It took a lot of energy to move objects even briefly--let alone lift himself thirty feet into the air. And using the Eye on himself seemed especially tiring for some reason, as if he were struggling against himself somehow. "I think I'll pass on that," he said. "Any other ideas?"

Taris frowned. "Where is your imagination, Squire? A Dark Watchman could get up there easily. Remember, this tower was designed for Blue Knights who possess the Eye of Divinity."

An idea occurred to Lannon, and he hurled the grapple hook again. This time he reached out with the Eye and searched for a place to hook it. The distance was significant, but the hook was light and easy to move. He found a small metal ring on the floor above, and he forced the hook to snag it.

"And there you have it," said Taris. "You combined the power of the Eye with your skills as a Blue Squire. That's what it's all about."

Lannon started to slowly climb up, but Taris chastised him. "You're climbing like a fool. Use the Eye to help you climb faster. Don't be afraid of wearing yourself out, for that is how you increase your capacity."

Lannon focused on scampering up the rope. The Eye did indeed help him climb faster, and he soon stood on the next floor, gazing down through the hole and feeling pride in his accomplishment. He was standing in snow that had blown in through the tower windows (as their shutters were long gone).

Taris took off his boots and put them in his pack, exposing his large, muscular Birlote feet that had claw-like toenails. He went up the rope like a spider, moving even faster than Lannon had. When he reached the top, he grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled himself up with ease, as if he were completely weightless.

Lannon sensed the chamber they stood in used to be a library, and he would have loved to see the books it contained--but the books and even the shelves they once rested on were long gone. A few gargoyle statues with claws outstretched and long, hooked beaks still protruded from the walls, and a large stone fireplace was still intact. Sadness filled Lannon as he looked around, and he longed to see the tower as it had once been--to glimpse it with his own eyes and not the Eye of Divinity. He wanted the keep exactly as it used to be and would have gladly done the work to restore it. But the corruption of the Deep Shadow permeated everything, making restoration of the tower out of the question. And, Lannon reminded himself, there was no point to restoring it anyway. He was a Squire of Dremlock, and Dremlock was his home until he retired from Knighthood--if he ever chose to retire. Still, the longing in his heart remained.

They took a stairway up to the next floor and found stone tables and chairs still intact. This was either a dining hall or meeting hall--or both. There were no windows here, and no snow. Just frosty stone walls. Lannon took a seat in one of the chairs and found it comfortable enough. The smooth stone was sculpted to the shape of his body and, in spite of the freezing air, felt strangely warm beneath him. He relaxed for a moment, lost in his ponderings of the tower.

Taris smiled and pointed at another stairway. "This is no time for rest, my young friend. Our journey must take us to the very peak of this tower."

They went up three more floors and found storage rooms, bedchambers, and barren rooms with no discernable purpose. Lannon wanted to carefully examine each room with the Eye, but Taris kept him moving. At last they stood in a chamber where a hole in the ceiling was sixty feet above them and just barely visible in the light of the Birlote torch--a hole that was ten feet beyond the length of Lannon's rope. The walls were smooth marble and looked impossible to climb, curving inward toward the top. Clearly, the Dark Watchman had wanted it to be very difficult for anyone to reach the chamber above.

"I am greatly intrigued by that chamber up there," said Taris. "When I was last here, I was able to withstand the dark sorcery that guards it and ascend through the hole. But then I was confronted by a cube of Glaetherin--like a huge safe--protected by a wheel lock which no one today would know how to open. Completely impenetrable."

Not completely impenetrable, Lannon thought, remembering how Vannas had cut through a slab of Glaetherin with the White Flamestone.

"I suspect that safe contains items that were of great importance to the Dark Watchmen," said Taris. "Items that should pass to you, Lannon--if, that is, you can manage to open the wheel lock."

"I have opened them before," said Lannon, eager to learn what treasures the safe contained.

"This one is very complex," said Taris, "designed only for someone with full command of the Eye."

"Then we should have brought Prince Vannas," said Lannon. "It would take some time, but he could cut through it."

"No," said Taris. "The safe should only be opened by one who is worthy--one who is ready to possess what lies within. If you can't do it yourself, then you have no right to lay claim to what it holds."

"How are we even going to get up there?" said Lannon.

"I can climb walls," said Taris, smiling.

"But I'm not a Birlote," said Lannon, "so I can't."

"It has nothing to do with being a Birlote," said Taris. "A Birlote only climbs trees or rugged surfaces, but I can climb any surface. It has taken decades, but I've mastered the sorcery that allows me to bind myself to smooth walls. However, you'll have to use your rope and the power of the Eye. I'll meet you up there. Beware of the dark sorcery that will seek to turn you away."

Taris handed Lannon the torch and proceeded to climb slowly up the marble wall. Taris grunted with strain as he moved upward. Clearly, it took immense energy to bind the sorcerer to the stone. Lannon found himself amazed yet again at Taris Warhawk's abilities. The Tower Master was truly on a skill level that few had ever reached. Birlotes by nature had extreme talent for sorcery, yet Taris was exceptional even amongst them.

Lannon seized his grapple hook with the Eye and hurled it at the hole, letting go of the rope. He guided it upward and found a stone ring to snag on the chamber floor. But now the rope's end was nearly fifteen feet above him.

"I can't reach it," he called to Taris.

"Levitate," was Taris' reply.

Lannon sighed, hating the prospect of levitation. As he used the Eye to try to lift himself into the air, the unpleasant feeling of his power battling his own body made him nauseous. Instantly, he felt drained. He realized he was never going to enjoy levitation--which explained why the Dark Watchmen had favored rope and grapple hooks. Slowly he lifted himself high enough to grab the rope. He hung there for a moment, feeling exhausted and dizzy, the slender Birlote torch clenched in his teeth. Then he started upward. As he climbed, an overwhelming fear gripped him--dark sorcery, radiating from sources hidden in the marble walls, making him want to flee from the keep. He fought back with the Eye, pushing the fear from his mind, and managed to keep climbing.

At last the two of them stood in the chamber with the oversized safe. This was little more than a small room at the very peak of the tower, with the safe taking up most of the space. Lannon went right to work, pressing his hands against the wheel lock and using the Eye to guide his movements. He was confident he would open it easily, but his first attempt failed. His confidence shaken, he tried several more times and finally gave up in frustration.

Taris nodded. "You don't yet have the skill to open it. I'm not surprised. You can try again another time."

Lannon was disgusted with himself for failing. Using the Eye, he gazed into the safe. He found six fancy swords--all made of Glaetherin--and one huge book that held writings about the affairs of the Dark Watchmen and Silverland. The book, which was titled Shadows of Ollanhar also contained the deepest secrets of the Watchmen and their skills. Lannon could have stood there and read the book without turning a page (and would have loved to do so, had he more time), for the Eye could glimpse everything inside it. The safe also contained a large silver chalice with an inscription on it that read The Essence Cup, and a detailed map of Silverland that revealed portals to Tharnin--one of which was marked right where the Watchmen's Keep stood. And finally, there was a scroll that revealed six hidden chambers in the tower.

Lannon reported his findings to Taris.

"Are the items cursed by Tharnin?" Taris asked.

Lannon peered into the safe again, but couldn't answer Taris' question. The swords, the chalice, and the huge book held the presence of sorcery, but the Eye couldn't reveal whether or not it was of Tharnin.

"The Deep Shadow is indeed tricky," said Taris. "But if you had full mastery of the Eye, it would not be able to conceal itself from you so easily. My guess is that those swords used to belong to the six Dark Watchmen who are buried below this keep. The remains of the other sixteen Watchmen reside in Dremlock Cemetery. These six were the last to perish, but it appears they were hoping someone would restore the order someday. Someone like you, Lannon. These items were left here for a reason, impervious to time and theft."

"But I can't open the lock," said Lannon, his voice sounding bitter to his ears. "What if I can't ever open it?"

Taris shrugged. "Your skills will grow over time, and I have no doubt that you will be able to claim these items. But the Dark Watchmen are long dead. You serve Dremlock now, and your place is with the Divine Knights. If you are never able to open the lock, so be it. You still have a duty to your kingdom. Regardless, you can always try again later."

Lannon nodded. "What about the secret chambers?"

"Yes," said Taris, "that is intriguing. However, we don't have time this night to explore all of them. I suggest you pick one."

Lannon examined the scroll again. One of the hidden chambers was accessed from the floor below--from a balcony outside the keep. The scroll did not indicate what the chamber might contain.

The two climbed back down and Lannon examined the marble walls. He found a hidden door in the stone and pushed it. It took all of his strength--enhanced by the eye--to push the slab, which swung open grudgingly with a screech of rusty hinges. As the thick section of the tower wall opened outward, a blast of freezing air hit Lannon's face.

They stepped out onto a balcony that encircled the tower. They could look out over the treetops in the starlight, and had it been daytime, they would have been able to see for miles across the land. They followed the balcony around the tower. On the opposite side from the door, Lannon spotted a small, narrow ledge about ten feet below. The ledge seemed pointless, as there was no visible door or window near it and no stairs to access it. And it existed in a wide space between floors. The ledge appeared only half finished, with a rail on one side and jagged blocks on the other--as if the construction process had been abandoned. But Lannon knew that was merely an attempt to conceal its true purpose--a hidden door.

Lannon snagged his grapple hook on the rail and the two of them climbed down to the ledge. He pushed on the hidden door. The stone slab grudgingly moved inward, revealing a short hallway that ended at an iron door.

Taris motioned Lannon on. "I'll wait here for you. Whatever you find, you are free to take. But beware of dark sorcery."

The iron door was sealed by a complex lock that required two movements to open. Lannon inserted two of his lock-picking tools and quickly unlocked it. The door had no handle and refused to move inward, so Lannon seized it with the Eye and pulled it open.

Within the small chamber beyond, in an oaken chest, Lannon found a dark blue cloak with a silver, eye-shaped symbol on the back. The cloak was about his size, and made of some soft, silky material. He also found a throwing star made of Glaetherin, in a leather case, and a lightweight steel dagger with rubies embedded in the hilt. The throwing star was engraved with the same eye symbol as the cloak. There was a coil of thin, lightweight, Birlote rope--about eighty feet of it--and a fancy grapple hook. He also found a pouch full of ancient silver coins bearing the Crest of Dremlock. None of the items appeared to be cursed.

Lannon gathered the treasures and stepped back out onto the ledge. He described what he'd found, as Taris pushed the door shut.

"The silver will be given to Dremlock," said Taris. "You may keep the other items. This is a very interesting find. As the Dark Watchmen fell further into the embrace of the Deep Shadow, they hid items they no longer used. The star weapon was the primary throwing blade for the Watchmen. They would use the Eye to guide it to a foe and then return it back to their hands. A weapon made of Glaetherin is a very rare and excellent treasure."

"But Jerret has a Glaetherin sword," said Lannon. "So do many of the Knights. Glaetherin seems quite common, actually."

"Impure Glaetherin," said Taris, with a scowl, "mixed with other metals. Still very strong, but not flawless. That slab that Prince Vannas cut through below Elder Oak was impure Glaetherin, as is the safe at the top of this tower and the doors that block the tunnels below Dremlock. And I would guess that Jerret's sword--which is a fine blade, by the way--is at least thirty percent steel. Pure Glaetherin is very rare and reserved only for the most legendary arms."

"How can you know the difference?" asked Lannon, gazing at the throwing star. Even with the Eye, he could only vaguely sense it was made of Glaetherin--but he couldn't tell if it was pure or mixed with something else.

"Simply by the color," said Taris. "Mixed Glaetherin is slightly more dull in hue than pure Glaetherin."

Lannon held up the gleaming throwing star in the torchlight. He couldn't discern any difference between it and the mixed Glaetherin that the safe above supposedly consisted of. It just looked like silver to Lannon.

Taris chuckled. "Don't concern yourself with it, Squire." He poked the throwing star with his finger. "I can tell you beyond a doubt that this blade consists of pure Glaetherin. It could be very useful to you--in ways you can't yet imagine. Don't lose it! And that Birlote rope is also an excellent find for a Blue Squire. It is light, yet immensely strong."

"What about the cloak?" asked Lannon.

"The cloak of a Blue Knight," said Taris, "and a Dark Watchman. It is made of Birlote silk, like the rope. Does it fit?"

Lannon tried it on and found that it did. It smelled musty, and it didn't warm him like his fur cloak, but it was comfortable enough.

"Obviously these items belonged to a Birlote," said Taris, pride in his voice. "That cloak is waterproof and very durable. The dagger is made of Birlote steel--very lightweight and strong, with a blade that will never dull."

"Then maybe the Birlotes would want these items returned," said Lannon, though he was hoping Taris would disagree.

"Because they belonged to a Dark Watchman," said Taris, "they rightfully pass to you. I hope they serve you well."

"Are we done here?" asked Lannon. Shivering, he threw his fur cloak on over the other one.

Taris' face was grim in the torchlight. "No. We didn't come here to find hidden items--though it's a welcome bonus. I brought you here to learn about the Dark Watchmen, and to do that, we must go below--to the tomb of the restless dead. This part of our adventure will be much more dangerous."

"The restless dead?" Lannon asked, not liking the sound of that.

"I'll explain when we get below," said Taris.

***

They returned to the bottom floor of the tower, and Lannon lifted the trapdoor. Immediately, fierce terror gripped him that made him want to flee from the keep--just as it had when he was climbing the rope at the tower's peak. It was dark sorcery at work in his mind, striving to break his will. He fought it off with the Eye and peered below. A stone stairway led down into shadows.

"Lead the way," said Taris.

Lannon drew his sword and started down the steps, with Taris behind him. At the bottom was a thick, moldy, oaken door bound in iron and with holes rotted through the wood. Above the door hung a large, gleaming axe. Lannon gazed at the door with the Eye, and saw that it was thoroughly haunted. Six shades inhabited the door--the ghosts of the long-dead Dark Watchmen who'd dwelt in the tower. The shades were like writhing shadows that peered out from the wood, icy eyes fixed on Lannon. The door radiated an illusion of despair and insanity that tried to overwhelm Lannon, but he shielded himself with the Eye.

"This is their tomb?" said Lannon. "An oaken door?"

"Their bodies are buried below this floor," said Taris, "sealed away forever by stone. But their spirits haunt the door--perhaps for eternity."

"Why?" said Lannon. And he found he was terrified of what the answer might be. But he had to know. "What happened to them?"

"As you know," said Taris, "the Dark Watchmen all fell victim to the Deep Shadow. They peered into it too deeply with the Eye of Divinity, and it claimed them. They tried to gaze into the Eye of Tharnin itself--the great beast that rules over the Shadow Realm--and it consumed them. They turned against Dremlock and tried to destroy it. Sixteen of the Watchmen nearly succeeded. They slew many of the Knights, including the Lord Knight, Galbas Firmblade, and fought their way to the Divine Essence below the keep. Their goal was to destroy Dremlock's god and tear the heart from the kingdom. But they underestimated the Divine Essence and its ability to defend itself. It slew the Dark Watchmen with white fire."

"And the other six?" asked Lannon.

"They tried to redeem themselves," said Taris. "In an effort to atone for their sins, they sealed the second largest portal to Tharnin with the door you see here. This door is an illusion generated by the power of the spirits. Their flesh was stripped away by the Deep Shadow, but their souls fought back and now hold the darkness at bay. This illusion is so powerful that no one can pass beyond this door and live."

"It must be a bleak existence," said Lannon, "to simply hold shut a door. Wouldn't they grow bored and weary of it?"

"Boredom is a mortal perspective," said Taris. "These shades do what they must, without regret, and the passage of time means nothing to them. The original goal of the Dark Watchmen was to close all the portals to Tharnin, thus defeating the Deep Shadow forever. So by keeping this portal sealed, they have--at least in part--completed that goal."

"But they failed in life," said Lannon.

"Yes, their arrogance destroyed them," said Taris. "They had a chance to defeat the Eye of Tharnin and rid its influence from our world forever. Yet their power and influence became so great they believed themselves invincible. And that is why they fell to the will of Tharnin. And that is what you must avoid."

Lannon shuddered. "I definitely want to avoid their fate. I don't plan to spend eternity stuck inside a door."

"Don't make light of their great sacrifice," said Taris, frowning, "for these six have indeed redeemed themselves. They continue to battle Tharnin every day from beyond the grave. These are your brothers, Lannon. The sixteen Watchmen in Dremlock Cemetery are still cursed and evil. Their bitter shades linger near their bodies, haunting the tombs. They have not yet found a way to break free of the Deep Shadow. But these six were stronger and repented their evil--and Tharnin slew them as punishment. They are truly the last of the Dark Watchmen. These are grim and relentless souls who have no mercy on anyone who tries to pass beyond this door, but if possible, they will guide you."

"Can I talk to the shades?" asked Lannon. He wasn't sure he actually wanted to, but he felt there was no harm in asking.

"Not now," said Taris. "It would be too dangerous. When you're more confident in your skills, you may attempt to communicate with them--if you have a good reason for doing so. But even then it might be very risky."

Lannon sighed. "I'm finding out that I have a lot to learn."

"Yes," said Taris, "but I'm very impressed with the progress you've made so far, especially considering your age and experience. I expected this door to overwhelm you--perhaps drive you to your knees in despair. I knew there was even a slim chance it might scar you for life or make you bitter. Yet you stand there unwavering, holding the sorcery in check."

"Thank you," said Lannon. He was growing weary from using the Eye, however, and he felt the illusion might soon break through his defenses. "And I appreciate you bringing me here and showing me these things."

"It was inevitable," said Taris. "But now we must return to camp and sleep. Tell no one of this excursion. In fact, take a vow of secrecy!"

"I swear to keep it secret," said Lannon, "by the Divine Essence and the Sacred Laws, until you release me from this vow."

"You will long to return here," said Taris, "but you must resist. Do not come back to this tower until you know you are ready. Next time, I won't be with you. You will come alone, and if you're not prepared, you will die here alone. This could either be a second home for you--or your tomb."

"When I return," said Lannon, "I will be prepared."

Taris gazed at him sternly, then nodded. "You are progressing well, Lannon Sunshield. There may yet be hope for Dremlock Kingdom."