Knights: Legends of Ollanhar (11 page)

"Beautiful night," said Lannon, gazing skyward.
"I feel tired...almost too relaxed. I could lay down and sleep right
here."

"I feel that too," said Lothrin, gazing at the
Dark Watchman with a curious expression. "My mind seems dull and tired,
detached from the world. I could easily sleep beneath the moon."

"I wonder," said Lannon, "if we're under
some spell."

"I would know if I was under a spell," said
Lothrin.

"Would you?" said Lannon, giving him a piercing
gaze.

"Of course," said Lothrin. Then he frowned.
"At least, I hope I would. But you should certainly know. What does the
Eye reveal?"

"The Eye is sluggish," said Lannon. "It
wants to wander about, showing me things I don't care to see. It's not working
properly."

Lothrin's bronze-skinned face was strikingly pale as he
stared at the sky. "The moon seems so magnificent this night--a Ranger
Moon, to guide our path." He blinked. "But there is something else
there...a shadow."

"A shadow on the moon," Lannon mumbled, as time
drifted on. He shook his head. "I don't know. I just need some
sleep."

"Can't you see it?" asked Lothrin. He pointed.
"A faint shadow, like a warning amidst all that beauty."

Lannon squinted at the pale orb, and it seemed to draw him
in, as if seeking to hold him captive. But he didn't see any shadow.

In the clearing there was a black stone that Lannon could
not avoid gazing at--a monument to the stars that stood taller than the two
warriors. It showed the map of eight worlds in the heavens and their pinpoints
of light. The veins upon the stone showed ancient pathways where distance could
be lessoned, where wise travelers exchanged gifts and where great hospitality
existed. The ancient pathways now stood abandoned, glowing tributes to the
original design of the universe. They had given way to the creations of science
and faster routes. The visitors had left their gifts long ago, fading from time
and memory, with only a monument or two to signify a glorious age of peace and
prosperity.

"What did you see?" asked Lothrin.

Lannon didn't know how to answer that in a meaningful way.
The Eye often revealed strange and mysterious glimpses of the future and the
past that seemed to serve no purpose. At last he said, "Something left
here by travelers who are long gone. That's all I know."

"Gone to where?" asked Lothrin.

"I don't know," said Lannon. "Perhaps gone
beyond the bright, friendly pathways of night and into the deepest
darkness."

Lothrin gazed at him with a curious expression. "What
did you say? That didn't sound like you at all, Lannon."

Lannon didn't remember speaking. He shrugged.

"I wish I had your gift," said Lothrin. "You
must see so many amazing things. If I possessed the Eye, I would want to know
everything."

"It's not that simple," said Lannon. "Some
of the things I see are dark and horrific. Most of the knowledge is
useless--involving events from long ago or from ages yet to come. I can't even
be sure any of it is true."

"Do you believe your power lies to you?" asked
Lothrin.

"It doesn't lie," said Lannon. "But I could
easily misinterpret the things I'm shown. My visions could be symbolic--though
I tend to believe they're not. Still, the possibility does exist. Anyway, some
of what I see is inspiring, like what this monument revealed. I can't quite
understand it, but I sense it represents something good. That's all I need to
know, right?"

"Definitely not," said Lothrin, frowning.
"Think of the incredible knowledge you could be gaining--knowledge that
could benefit humanity."

"True," said Lannon. "But knowledge could
also destroy us. There are things we are not ready to know. The Eye can glimpse
these things, and that makes it very dangerous." Lannon sighed. "I
don't really know how to proceed, so I'm going to stubbornly follow the will of
the Divine Essence and continue to live as a Knight. If I discover something
useful to humanity along the way, so be it."

Lothrin smiled. "You can't go wrong there. After all,
it was the Divine Essence that gave you your gift." But he looked
troubled. "Still, with so much knowledge around you, how can you not be
constantly absorbing it?"

"I prefer to stay sane," said Lannon. "Maybe
I was the wrong choice for this gift. After all, I'm a simple man set in my
ways. Not a great thinker."

"Maybe that actually makes you the right choice,"
said Lothrin. "Maybe you were given the Eye because you can handle its
power."

"And the other Dark Watchmen?" said Lannon.
"They were also chosen by the Divine Essence. That fact is always in my
mind."

"You must stop dwelling on that," said Lothrin.
"You are unique, Lannon. You must have faith in yourself, or you will
indeed share their fate."

"I'm trying," said Lannon.

A faint cry reached their ears, coming from the direction
of the camp. For a moment they simply stood in the moonlight, their thoughts
still sluggish--as if they were almost asleep on their feet.

Then Lothrin said, "That sounded like Vorden."

With that, the Eye of Divinity sprang into sharp focus. The
heavy fog was pushed away from Lannon's mind, leaving him certain some sinister
spell had just been broken. "Hurry!" said Lannon. "I think our
camp is under attack!"

***

When they reached the tents, a shocking scene was revealed.
Vorden and Galandra lay unconscious on the ground, and racing toward the camp
were three Guardians--the famed Golden Knights of Bellis. These inhuman
warriors were almost invincible in their armor that gleamed pale in the
moonlight. They moved with astonishing speed and agility in spite of their full
suits of armor, bounding toward the camp with the speed of charging wolves,
their swords drawn. They were focused on a single target: Prince Vannas, who
was strolling casually toward them as if unaware of the dire threat. In seconds
he would be cut down.

Lannon and Lothrin cried warnings to the prince, but he
seemed oblivious to them. He held the black pouch that contained the White
Flamestone, as if ready to hand it over to the Guardians. He appeared dazed,
his steps slow and awkward. He paused to glance up at the moon.

Lannon seized the prince with his power and dragged him
backwards, even as the Guardians' swords slashed the air where he had been.
With a fierce tug, Lannon pulled Vannas to safety--charging in front of him,
his own sword drawn. He and Lothrin met the three Golden Knights in a clash of
blades, determined to keep them from getting to the prince.

But one of the Guardians twisted around them and made for
Vannas, his sword poised for the kill. Lannon leapt on the Guardian's back and
tried to unlatch his helm, while Lothrin defended Lannon. The Ranger blocked
several attacks aimed at Lannon from behind, and then Lannon freed the helm,
tossing it aside. At that point the Golden Knight gave a furious twist and
shook Lannon loose.

With the Guardian's head exposed, Lothrin drew a dagger and
hurled it. The steel blade lodged in the back of the Guardian's skull, piercing
green, scaly flesh and the stout bone that lay underneath. The effort of
throwing the knife left Lothrin open to attack--even as Lannon moved to help
him--and he took a stab to the shoulder that made him gasp in pain.

Hissing with agony, his forked tongue flicking from between
his jaws, the Guardian clawed at the dagger for a moment, but the damage was
done. He staggered forward mindlessly, knocking Prince Vannas aside in the
process, and then fell across the campfire. Soon reeking black smoke arose, as
he burned to a crisp within his golden armor.

Lannon lifted another Guardian and flung him into some
rocks. The Guardian lay stunned for a moment, giving Lannon time to unlatch his
helm while Lothrin battled the remaining foe. Lannon didn't look directly at
the horrific, reptilian face underneath--a face that possessed hypnotic eyes
that could freeze a person's soul. Instead, he simply lashed out with his blade
and beheaded the foe. The lizard-like head rolled down the rocks and touched his
boot, the jaws still moving as if seeking to bite him. In disgust, Lannon
kicked it away.

Lannon turned to find Lothrin in peril. The Ranger was
lying on the ground, the Golden Knight standing over him with his sword poised
for a downward thrust. Lothrin's shoulder wound had caused his arm to give out,
drastically weakening his battle prowess. The Ranger seized the Guardian's
armored leg and yanked, but he was unable to pull the heavy warrior off his
feet.

Lannon froze the Guardian for a moment, giving Lothrin a
chance to rise and unlatch the helm. With the reptilian head exposed, Lannon
hurled his Dragon-sword right through one of the creature's snake-like eyes.
The Guardian toppled over, one golden gauntlet clamped around the bony sword,
and lay still.

Groaning, Lothrin clutched at his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Lannon asked, even as he used the
Eye to search for more danger. "That wound looks close to the heart."

"It is," muttered Lothrin. "I was fool for
letting down my guard. I'm really tired of these Golden Knights. Too much armor
for me."

"They're tough," Lannon agreed, wearily.

Prince Vannas simply stood there gazing into the distance,
clearly ignorant of the battle to save his life.

"I need healing," said Lothrin. "Soon."

"Yet this battle is not over," came a deep voice.
A moment later, Vorhevia stepped from the shadows to confront them. The High
Wizard of Bellis carried no weapon other than a pale, twisted oak staff. He
looked like a giant, black-and-silver bird of prey in the moonlight, with his flowing
robe, hawk nose, and black eyes. He gazed impassively at Lannon.

"Wrong," said Lannon. "Your fighters are
dead. The battle
is
over. I suggest you flee back to wherever you came
from. Your ambush has failed."

"Yes, it has failed," said Vorhevia. "But it
was close. A few more seconds and your prince would be dead, the Flamestone in
my possession. Surely you must give me credit for a near victory."

"This isn't a game," said Lannon. "Leave now
or face my blade."

"Don't let him escape," said Lothrin.

"But you need healing," Lannon reminded him.

"I'll be fine," said Lothrin. "Arrest him,
or kill him, High Watchman. But letting him go is out of the question."

Vorhevia nodded. "The Ranger speaks true, Lannon. I am
guilty of staging this ambush. I deserve to be arrested. Come and take
me."

Lannon hesitated, sensing a trap.

But Lothrin drew his Flayer and leapt in for the kill. Yet
Vorhevia somehow seized the swift Ranger's shoulder and froze him. Vorhevia
gazed into Lothrin's eyes, and the Ranger fell to his knees.

"Sleep and know wisdom," said Vorhevia.
"Sleep until the stars fade out, the winds blow no more, and only
undisturbed dust remains. Sleep until the bones of the earth are lost from time
and memory."

Lothrin toppled over and lay still.

"Now it's your turn," the High Wizard said to
Lannon.

"Another puppet of Tharnin," said Lannon,
sighing.

"Hardly," said Vorhevia. "As a descendant of
Althustus the Dragonforged, I am immune to the charms of the Deep Shadow--just
like King Verlamer. We are immune--but you, Lannon, are not."

"You might think you're immune," said Lannon,
"but you serve Tharnin one way or another. Everything you do benefits the
shadow realm."

"No, Dark Watchman," said Vorhevia. "I serve
myself first, and my kingdom second. After that, there is nothing."

"A fool lost in his own dreams," said Lannon.

"What do you know of dreams?" said Vorhevia.
"I am the master of dreams. I walk between realities, in places few will
ever venture."

Lannon had endured enough. He pointed his sword at
Vorhevia. "You're under arrest. Kneel down and await my commands!"

"Arresting me is
your
reality," said
Vorhevia. "Not mine. I am not bound to your perception in the way you
think I am. I can simply walk away."

"Whatever," said Lannon, attempting to seize
Vorhevia with the Eye.

But Lannon's power seemed to miss its target somehow, as
the High Wizard stepped behind a thick tree.

"You can't hide from me," said Lannon, giving
chase.

But he found no one behind the tree.

Frantically, Lannon scanned the woods, but he could find no
trace of Vorhevia. Nothing remained but the plants and animals of the forest.

***

As Lothrin Windbow plunged deep into the realm of dreams,
he found himself gazing upon his future son Ethrin--who was walking along a
forest trail at night with a bearded trapper. The fact that Ethrin had yet to
be born--or even conceived--meant nothing to Lothrin. In the dream, he accepted
things for what they were. In fact, this became his reality and he knew nothing
else.

Lothrin marveled at his son--but he was also disappointed.
Ethrin didn't look like Birlote royalty. In fact, he barely looked like a
Birlote at all. His skin was paler than that of a Tree Dweller, and his ears
were only slightly pointed. Instead of being silver in hue, his hair was brown
and tangled (and clearly in need of a wash) with only a few silver streaks, and
his face bore stubble.

Ethrin was clearly half Norack.

"My future wife must be Norack!" Lothrin
whispered to himself, in shock. He had never anticipated marrying a Norack or
producing an extremely rare half-Birlote child. How could this happen?

But clearly visible on Ethrin's cheek was the legendary and
unmistakable birthmark--the leaf that burned. Ethrin
was
the descendant
of Olzet Ka, and the one who could lift the Crimson Flamestone from its bed of
straw.

But Ethrin seemed so strange to Lothrin, and the Birlote
Ranger was appalled as he watched the scene unfold.