Knights: Legends of Ollanhar (33 page)

Aldreya nodded. "I'm certain you will attempt it. But
bear in mind that you may be as important as any Flamestone. It is you, Lannon,
who makes King Verlamer fear the shadows. He dreads that you will come for
him."

"How do you know that?" asked Lannon.

"Another easy guess," said Aldreya, smiling.
"He is hoping you will die on this journey, before your power can reach its
peak. Don't give him the satisfaction by taking dire risks. You are too
important to lose."

"You sound like Taris," said Lannon. He missed
the elite sorcerer's presence. Taris always seemed to have answers, and though
Aldreya was becoming more like him by the day, she wasn't quite there yet.

"That is a great compliment," said Aldreya. She
then bid Lannon goodnight and walked away.

Lannon stood alone for about an hour. The battle had been
bloody and many had died, but to Ethella and Bellis Kingdom it meant nothing.
King Verlamer had an endless army to send against them. If Verlamer's goal now
was simply to attack, they would see a lot more combat in the days ahead.
Without the White Flamestone, many of his friends would surely perish. He
couldn't let that happen. He would take the risk of swimming into the depths.
He would seek to raise the Flamestone from its murky resting place--no matter
how dangerous the task was--because without the stone there would be so much
bloodshed. It was a devastating weapon, but it kept an uneasy peace--a peace
that Lannon was obligated to restore at all costs.

The Divine Knights and hired warriors had all survived, and
under the relentless care of Dallsa they would heal. If Lannon could retrieve
the White Flamestone, they would be ready for whatever troubles the future
held. He sensed that far greater dangers awaited them on this quest than what
they had encountered so far. They would need all the help they could get to
succeed.

Vorden approached. His head was heavily bandaged, but
otherwise he seemed fine. His yellow eyes shone in the dark. "Lannon. How
are you?"

"Worried," said Lannon. "
Very
worried, I suppose."

Vorden smiled. "Maybe this will improve your
mood." Vorden handed Lannon his Dragon sword. "I really hate to surrender
this."

Lannon savored the feel of it in his hand. The weapon was
like an old friend to Lannon and it brought him comfort.

"Back to using my fists," said Vorden, sighing.

Lannon drew the Glaetherin sword and handed it to him.
"Not necessarily. This might withstand your fire."

"Should I test it?" asked Vorden.

"It might give away our position," said Lannon.
It didn't seem wise to ignite a blazing fire in the dead of night.

"So who is the oversized Dwarf?" Vorden pointed
at Doomar, who was seated by the oars. "And why is he holding that
painting?"

"A new Squire," said Lannon. "He forged that
sword you're holding." There was no point in explaining anything more
about Doomar. The others would learn about his strange ways soon enough.

Vorden raised his eyebrows. "Okay. We actually came
through this in good shape, except for the loss of the White Flamestone. We
have a lot of great fighters now. We defeated a strong force with skill
alone."

"It's not enough," said Lannon. "Without the
Flamestone, we will be overwhelmed by King Verlamer's soldiers. We simply must
find it."

Vorden nodded. "We'll get it back."

They stood in silence for a time. Then Vorden said,
"You going to stand here all night? You must be exhausted. Get some
sleep."

"I'm not yet ready for sleep," said Lannon. He
was far too restless for slumber. In fact, he wasn't sure he would sleep at all
that night.

Vorden nodded. "Well, goodnight. Tomorrow we'll find
that Flamestone. Count on it." With that, he walked away.

Lannon continued to stand there for a long time, wondering
what fate had in store for him. As a Dark Watchman, he always walked alone. He
had friends--ones who respected his power and accomplishments--but they didn't
truly know him. His ways were strange to them. They were strange even to Dallsa,
who seemed to understand Lannon better than anyone else. No one could fully
comprehend his ways--except perhaps for another Dark Watchman.

"Taith," he whispered, thinking of the boy for
the first time in quite awhile. "I wonder how your training is going. What
will become of us in the days ahead? Where will we both end up?"

There were no answers in the still night air.