Knights: Legends of Ollanhar (21 page)

"I'll fight you to my last breath," he promised
the darkness.

He thought he heard quiet laughter. It sounded like that of
Tenneth Bard, the Black Knight that Faindan had injured in battle. A winged
shadow seemed to soar across the room and then vanish.

Faindan steadied himself. "Time for bed," he
said, trudging toward the stairs. "No more games." He could almost
feel the tower groan in response.

***

Faindan didn't meet with Taris for the next three days. He
remained lost in his own little world, isolated from everyone. The first day
was grueling, and though he put forth a strong effort, he was unable to
convince himself to set foot outside. He went as far as to stand before the
tower door, but the fear and anxiety proved too much for him. He returned to
his room to hide.

By noon of the third day Faindan's confidence had
increased. He was still thoroughly miserable, but he had resisted and survived.
He found small duties to perform and found a sense of accomplishment in
completing those tasks. With those small victories to inspire him, he found
himself standing before the tower door again. He gazed up at the dark stone
slabs from which three Gargoyle faces leered down at him. He glared back at the
grotesque sculptures in defiance, and then he became aware that two guards--muscular
Red Knights--were watching him with curious expressions. The guards stood on
either side of the door.

"Let me out," said Faindan. "I need fresh
air. Wait--I'll do it myself."

The guards held back.

Faindan pushed against the door, summoning his Knightly
strength--a warmth spreading through his limbs. Slowly it swung open.

As he walked out into daylight, one of the guards--a young
Dwarf with a cheerful face--said, "Have a pleasant day, Master
Faindan."

Master Faindan?
He felt unworthy to be called that,
considering his dark struggles. But the young Knight probably didn't know about
any of that, and he probably looked up to Faindan as a hero and a member of the
Council of Ollanhar. Sighing, Faindan nodded to the guard. "Thank
you."

Yet he paused in the doorway, gripped by fear. His body
trembled. If only the young Knight knew what Faindan was feeling, he would
surely lose all respect for him. He tried to step forward, but he was convinced
the world would devour him--that he would find a fate worse than death. The
clearing was foggy, the sky a dark haze, and a damp chill hung in the air that
seemed to penetrate Faindan's bones. He felt like a deadly storm was soon to be
unleashed. It seemed even the weather was poised to destroy him.

"Is something wrong, Master Faindan?" the Dwarf
asked.

"Nothing at all," Faindan lied. "Just
contemplating." He patted his thigh. "My legs... My legs don't want
to work right today."

"Sorry to hear that," said the Dwarf.
"Perhaps you need a healer."

"Perhaps," said Faindan. Then, with a fierce
effort, he took one step out onto the tower grounds. He waited, and when
nothing happened, he took another. A few more steps, and the great door closed
behind him. The tower seemed to shudder, as if this small victory of Faindan's
had wounded it.

Faindan breathed deeply, and he knew he would survive his
condition. Nothing would stop him now. "Thank you, Taris," he
whispered. Surely Taris had saved his life. He knew Taris would dispute that
and claim it was Faindan alone who chose his fate, but Faindan would always be
grateful to the Lord Knight.

For a moment, the fog was gone from the clearing and he
could see bright clouds overhead. Then the fog returned.

"There is no fog," he told himself. "It's
just a lie."

***

The next day, Taris Warhawk took Faindan into the woods to
search for the spot where the evil mushroom had grown. Taris waited patiently
while Faindan struggled to remember. For an hour they walked slowly through the
forest, as bits and pieces of the memory appeared in Faindan's mind, but
nothing came of it.

"You must focus," said Taris. "I am a busy
man these days, Faindan. I don't have all day to wander in the woods." The
grey-cloaked sorcerer's hood was up to shield against a light rain, most of his
face lost in shadows beneath it. He leaned against an oak tree, frowning.

"Sorry," Faindan mumbled. "I'm trying. I
truly am. But the fog conceals everything, and the anxiety is terribly
distracting." The frantic ache inside him was so intense he would have
preferred a physical beating.

"You know the fog is an illusion," said Taris,
"just like your anxiety. You have to calm your mind and see through those
barriers."

It might have all been an illusion, but Faindan's reaction
to it was real. His emotional distress was real. How was he supposed to control
his mind the way Taris wanted him to? Once again he told himself it was because
Taris was a powerful Birlote and had abilities a mere Norack like Faindan could
never possess. Surely Taris expected too much of him. Faindan was supposed to
endure constant suffering--a burning of the soul that was present day and
night--and carry out his duties as if everything was fine. He had accepted the
fact that he would never enjoy life again, but he wasn't even allowed to wallow
in his misery. He was supposed to serve his god, his kingdom, and the people of
the land without flinching.

"Taris, you're not human," said Faindan.
"How can you do it?"

Taris touched his cheek, where the scars were concealed by
shadow. "How can I do it? What else is there? I have known immense
suffering, but I also take great satisfaction in life from my duties. I am
indeed human, just like you. But unlike you, I have worked to strengthen myself
to the point where I am able to live with my condition and actually prosper."

"So you enjoy life?" said Faindan. "In spite
of the pain?"

"Yes," said Taris. "Very much so. I am quite
happy to be here. At one point I was not, and I considered returning to
Borenthia and into the care of the Council of Wizards. My torment was so great
I thought it would kill me. But through hard work and focus I rose above that,
and now I am quite satisfied with my position as Lord Knight. I have things to
do that keep me busy."

"That's a remarkable story," said Faindan.
"And I have duties too, but not like yours. Lately, I don't seem to have
many duties."

"You're on the Council of Ollanhar," said Taris.
"You have many duties, but your affliction has caused you to ignore them.
Everyone has duties--even a prisoner in a boring dungeon cell. There is always a
way to be productive and benefit others, and it is through helping others that
we truly find ourselves."

"I must...find myself," said Faindan.
"That's it, isn't it? That's the whole issue here." He was lost in
the fog, and he needed to know who he was and why he was here. "So serving
others will help me do that?"

Taris nodded. "It is your key to prosperity."

"I'll work on it," said Faindan. "But first,
I'll find where that mushroom is growing. If there are any others there, we
must destroy them before they can..." He let his words trail off, gazing
into the fog. Like white, skeletal fingers, the mist reached around the tree
trunks--reaching for Faindan's throat.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He meditated on
finding the spot, and another clue was revealed--a memory of a mossy boulder
shaped somewhat like a giant's head tilted sideways. He revealed his findings.

Taris stepped away from the tree. "We passed that
boulder earlier."

They hurried off through the woods, and it didn't take them
long to locate the boulder. Not far from it was a gnarled, twisted oak tree
covered in moss. At the base of the tree grew three fat, ugly mushrooms. They
were dark brown in hue with crimson spots. There was also a mushroom stem where
one had been picked. As Faindan watched, a hideous purple centipede--not a
natural insect but something mutated--crawled from the hollow stem and scurried
off.

Faindan gazed in horror at the mushrooms. "Did you see
that insect?"

"There was no insect," said Taris. "Only
evil sorcery."

It all came back to Faindan in a rush. He had been
wandering the woods--defying orders out of boredom and neglecting his
duties--when he happened upon the mushroom patch. He had suddenly found himself
feeling ravenously hungry, and the mushrooms had looked impossible to resist.
He had knelt over one and grabbed it. It had felt slimy in his hands and
pulsating with life. As he had bitten into it, he was overcome by pleasure,
thinking it was the most perfect thing he had ever tasted. But then it turned
rotten and bitter in his throat, and he gagged. He tried to vomit it up, but
his stomach refused to obey. Then all had gone dark.

In a shaky voice, Faindan told Taris what he remembered.

"You were tricked," said Taris, "obviously.
A Divine Knight should know better, Faindan. This is very disturbing."

"I'm obviously a fool of a Knight," said Faindan.
"I keep getting myself cursed. Maybe I'm not meant for this." Gloom
filled his heart.

"You were indeed meant for this," said Taris.
"The white fire proves that. The true problem is that you're reckless.
Think back to when you fought with that Goblin in the moat, when Kuran
Darkender's image appeared to you. You almost died then due to poor choices.
You have brought this misery onto yourself."

"I did," Faindan agreed, groaning.

"You can do better," said the Lord Knight.
"I expect you to make smarter choices in the days ahead. But now you must
deal with this curse, regardless of how you acquired it. Learn from your
mistakes, forgive yourself, and move on."

"Are my mistakes forgivable?" asked Faindan.

"Forgiveness is possible," said Taris, "if
one is truly sorry for their actions and has truly changed. Only then can we
forgive ourselves."

"I am truly sorry," said Faindan. Then he paused.
Was he? Had anything really changed, or was he just as reckless as he had
always been?
Surely he had learned something from this
, he told himself.
He definitely intended to avoid getting cursed again if possible.

"I sense your doubt," said Taris. "The
process will take time. Don't expect to master yourself overnight. You will
have days of progress and days of setbacks on this journey. Just make sure your
ultimate path leads forward."

"I will," said Faindan. He drew his sword and
summoned the white fire into the blade. "Time to rid the forest of this
evil."

"Be my guest, young Knight," said Taris. "Do
what a Divine Knight is supposed to do and make war upon the Deep Shadow."

Faindan hesitated, as the mushrooms whispered to him and
sought to persuade him to spare them. It was the voice of Tharnin seeking to
protect its children--seeking to manipulate Faindan like a puppet.

"Now is the time," said Taris, watching intently.

Faindan shored up his will, and the burning blade fell upon
the mushrooms, leaving only ash beneath the proud and ancient oak.

Chapter
11:

The Lonely Path of Trenton
Shadowbane

Trenton was tired, his feet starting to drag a bit as he
walked the forest trail. He had no idea where he was going or what he was going
to do. He hadn't put much thought into this plan. Had he taken time to
contemplate it, he might have chosen to remain a Knight. This was something
that had to be done without thought or hesitation. Right up until the moment he
had announced his retirement, he had thought he might back out and continue to
enjoy the comforts that an elite Knight of Dremlock was privileged to receive.
But to his shock he had actually gone through with it, and here he was, alone
and without a coin to his name.

Trenton had left everything behind in protest--even his
fancy sword. He had taken only basic clothing, a dagger, and a canteen. As
hunger gnawed at his belly, he couldn't help but wonder if his protest was too
extreme. He could have brought plenty of provisions and silver with him.
Certainly Taris would have made sure that Trenton had whatever he needed to
secure a good life. But he had felt so wretchedly mistreated that he didn't
want to give Dremlock the satisfaction.

Perhaps he was just a petty old fool. What was he trying to
prove? People invested a lifetime of work into projects, and sometimes those
projects failed. It was simply the way of things. But maybe Trenton had been
growing bored with Knighthood and the struggle against Bellis and had wanted a
different sort of challenge--one where he would have to rely on his skills and
wisdom for survival. Was that what this was actually all about?

"What have you done, you fool?" he whispered to
himself, as he sat down on a log beside the trail. What he had done was throw
away everything. He had quit the service of Dremlock and the Divine Essence--
had
quit the High Council!
--and that was almost considered a traitorous act. He
would never be allowed to enter the kingdom again and would never be honored
for his service. He would receive only what mention was necessary for the
accuracy of the records.

He couldn't help but chuckle. He was a wandering sorcerer
now--like Jace. Except he lacked Jace's broad range of skills. The one thing
Trenton could do well was summon the beast, and the beast was only useful in
battle. But he couldn't even do that now. The beast had been shamed and would
never return--not that Trenton was troubled by that fact, as he no longer
needed the beast. He was no longer a part of Dremlock's struggle. All that
mattered now was deciding what he wanted to do in life and trying to make a go
of it. Trenton was a skilled Knight and could summon fire to his blade and
strength to his body, and he knew a few simple tricks of sorcery. Such
abilities could allow him to find employment in the right town.

A former Green Knight working a common job? He shook his
head. It was indeed an embarrassment, but if anyone dared mock him, Trenton
planned to tell that person exactly why he had left Dremlock. He would hold
nothing back. He wasn't required to keep the reasons for his retirement a secret.

He cut a pole and, using strips of cloth that he tore from
his cloak, lashed his dagger to it to make a spear. After waiting by the trail
for a couple of hours, he was able to bring down a deer. Trenton then built a
fire in the road and roasted some venison. He ate until he was satisfied and
then lay down to sleep.

He lay awake for hours as noises from animals and insects
came from all around him. At one point a snake slithered past his head--so
close that it brushed against his ear. He didn't care. He didn't feel like
building a shelter on this night.
Let the snakes and spiders crawl over him
,
he told himself. Such living conditions would strengthen his resolve and
determination to survive.

He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when he heard a
loud hiss. He assumed it was another snake--but this one sounded like it might
be trouble. He sat up and drew his dagger. The fire had burned down to coals,
so he sent flame into his blade. He shone the burning weapon about, but there
was no sign of a snake. Then he noticed a pair of red lights in the dark forest
trail.

He leapt up and held the dagger forth. "Who's
there?"

There was no answer except another hiss.

Trenton's heart raced. Could this be Tenneth Bard come to
destroy him when he was alone? If it was the Black Knight, he was certain he
could not defeat him in battle without help from the beast.

The red lights drew closer, but remained outside the glow
of his blade. Trenton realized they were the eyes of some tall creature.

"Who are you?" Trenton demanded. "Show
yourself."

"I prefer the shadows," came the inhuman reply.
"They are my home. And yours as well, now that you've lost
everything."

"What do you want from me?" asked Trenton.

"I have come to make an offer," said the
creature.

Then Trenton understood. "Go away, slave of Tharnin.
You will not tempt me to join your wretched cause."

"You have not heard my offer," said the creature.
"You are a former Green Knight and worthy of a lofty position. You could
be a Black Knight, Trenton Shadowbane, and command vast armies. You could be
wealthy beyond anything Dremlock ever offered you. You could be respected and
honored and could call upon whatever sorcery suits your needs. You could be
anything you want and even live forever. Endless pleasure, as you dominate
others."

"I reject your offer," said Trenton, without
hesitation. "I would rather die poor and alone than be a slave to the Deep
Shadow. And how did you learn so quickly of my retirement?"

"There is a spy at Ollanhar," said the creature.

"I shall report this to the Council," said
Trenton. "Your spy will be discovered and arrested."

"Why bother?" said the creature. "You were
sent away in humiliation and disgrace. Why would you help Dremlock? Will they
even tolerate you visiting their precious tower now that you're a scorned
outcast?"

Trenton didn't answer, but pain filled his heart. The
creature was right. This was not his business anymore. He needed to let it go.

"This is a shame," said the creature. "The
way they treated you after all of your years of service and dedication--banning
you from the Sacred Temple as if you are some monster unworthy of the light.
Tharnin would never treat you so badly. We would welcome you with joy and
celebration."

"And make me a puppet," said Trenton.

"No, not a puppet," said the creature. "You
would serve willingly and remain free and independent. A Knight of your stature
would never be made a slave. You would be a lord and commander. Or you can
slink off into the shadows, find some pathetic job to waste your hours upon,
and die in obscurity. Tharnin is the way of the future here. You know that
Dremlock's long reign is at last coming to a close. Soon the Divine Kingdom
will lie in ruins, the Knights living on only as legends and mythology. It is
over for them, but not for you, Trenton. You still have a chance to do so much
good in this world, to bring real change."

Trenton shook his head. "You offer much--but at the
expense of my soul. In order to join your cause, I would have to turn my back
on my honor, and without honor what do I have? It would be an empty
existence."

"Just consider my offer," said the creature.
"Take all the time you need. I will visit you again."

"Do as you wish," said Trenton, "but my
answer will be the same. I will not join forces with the Deep Shadow. I would
rather be dead."

"You're emotional right now," said the creature.
"That is understandable, considering how poorly you were treated. In time,
you may come to think clearly and decide on a better path."

"Don't count on it," said Trenton. "And now
I want to see what you really are." He stepped forward, shining his fire
at the creature.

Standing before Trenton was a towering Barloak Demon
dressed only in a red loincloth. It was a thin, almost skeletal Ogre with
pointed ears, red eyes, and purple flesh. It was grinning--revealing a mouthful
of pointed, black teeth. Its long fingers tapered into black claws.

Trenton nodded. "So, another one that the Crimson
Flamestone failed to destroy. How many of you are left in this land?"
Standing before such a monster was deeply chilling, making Trenton's legs feel
weak. Trenton could sense its massive power. He had no doubt that the demon
could slay him if it chose to. Even a former Green Knight was no match for this
creature.

The demon's grin vanished and it hissed at Trenton, angered
by the mention of the mighty Flamestone. "No need to poke a nerve,
Trenton. I came to you with a friendly offer. You can take it or leave
it."

"You heard my reply," said Trenton. "Now go
back to the darkness you crawled out of and trouble me no more."

"You'll see me again," said the demon. "It
is my duty to recruit elite warriors for Tharnin, and I get what I want.
Understand that I won't give up on you. I won't stop until you realize this is
the greatest opportunity you've ever had."

Trenton sighed.

The demon waited for a moment, then said, "Just think
it over." Then it stepped back into the shadows. The red eyes vanished.

Trenton stepped forward, shining his fire.

An unnatural fog hung where the demon had been, slowly
dissipating, but there was no sign of the creature. Trenton decided it must
have slipped quietly into the forest. How a creature that large could move so
silently was beyond Trenton. Could the demon have teleported itself somehow?
Such sorcery was unknown to Trenton and seemed outlandish, but he had to admit
to himself that anything was possible when it came to the magic of Tharnin.

"Back to the snakes and spiders," Trenton
muttered to himself, as he lay down near the bed of coals that had been his
campfire. Trenton found snakes and spiders to be fine company compared to the
creatures of the Deep Shadow.