Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar Read online

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  It was a warm summer afternoon--a day that should have been pleasant--with blue sky overhead in which an Elder Hawk circled. But the day was made ugly by the army of snarling Goblins at the clearing's edge and their towering catapults. The oak grove that surrounded the field in which Ollanhar Tower stood seemed threatened, for the monsters wouldn't hesitate to hack or burn trees that were centuries old. They would lay waste to the mossy clearing as well with its lone, majestic apple tree, leaving only smoking, bloodstained earth.

  Aldreya Silverhawk, the recently appointed Green Knight of Ollanhar, waited outside with a number of Dremlock's Blue Knights who stood in battle formation with drawn short swords and daggers. Also present were members of the Council of Ollanhar--Jerret Dragonsbane, Bekka Nightspear, Galvia Blazehammer, and Prince Vannas of Borenthia.

  "I thought we were going to wait inside," said Lannon, as he approached, "like we did last time. Or are we looking to provoke a battle?"

  Aldreya pointed at the pair of siege engines flanked by Ogres. "Those catapults changed my mind. We can't just hide in the tower and wait to be pummeled." Aldreya wore a green, hooded cloak--though the hood was thrown back, revealing her Birlote features--curly silver hair, pointed ears, shining green eyes, and skin was copper in hue. The young tree dweller's demeanor left no doubt that she was a member of the Royal Family of Borenthia and in command of Ollanhar.

  "The siege engines are poorly defended," said Prince Vannas, who was Aldreya's cousin and the highest ranking member of the Birlote Royal Family present. Like Aldreya, he possessed silver hair and green eyes--a lean yet muscular young man with a slender sword at his hip. He wore green-and-gold clothing of Birlote silk. In one hand he held the black pouch that contained the legendary White Flamestone--the ultimate weapon against the servants of the Deep Shadow--and he was always eager to make use of its pale fire.

  "We must not attack until they show aggression," said Aldreya. "The Sacred Laws demand it."

  "But they're just filthy Goblins," said Jerret Dragonsbane, who stood with his mighty Glaetherin broadsword gleaming in the sunlight. "Why should we show them honor? They've already fouled our grounds with their bucket of swill." His eyes smoldered with anger. "If that's not a call to bloodshed, what is?" Jerret was a young man with curly blond hair and an arrogant look on his face. He wore the stout breastplate of an elite Red Knight and carried no shield, using his broadsword for defense. He was the most muscular of Ollanhar's warriors. He made no effort to hide the fact that he lived for combat and bloodshed.

  Aldreya pointed to a rider in a black, hooded cloak who sat on horseback in the shadow of an enormous oak tree. This rider seemed to be leading the Goblin army, as the creatures swarmed around him protectively. He sat like death on his black steed, a bulky figure with a curved and gleaming battle axe held in two hands. He looked like an executioner ready to claim heads.

  "As you can see, there is a human amongst them," she said. "Therefore, we are bound by the Sacred Laws not to attack."

  Jerret smirked. "How do you know it's a human under that cloak? Could be a Goblin Lord, or some demon of Tharnin."

  Aldreya gazed at him sternly. "I'm making an assumption. I'm allowed to do that now and then, aren't I?"

  Lannon summoned the Eye of Divinity--the rare and divine power that gave him the ability to glimpse hidden and even guarded knowledge. His consciousness split, until he became like two separate beings, and then from the space that existed between his divided selves emerged the force of the Eye, reaching out to probe the figure on horseback. But all Lannon could glimpse was a male human presence shielded by shifting shadows, indicating that the rider was a very powerful foe who could conceal himself with dark sorcery.

  Lannon's hand locked around the hilt of his Dragon-bone sword. "He's a sorcerer of some kind, probably sent by Bellis or the Blood Legion."

  "Is he skilled?" asked Aldreya, without turning.

  "As dangerous as they come." Lannon could sense that Aldreya was eager to test her skills. "You're not ready to deal with this foe."

  "Never said I was." She sounded a bit irritated. Aldreya was the apprentice of the famed Birlote sorcerer and current Lord Knight of Dremlock known as Taris Warhawk, and she had developed skills few magic users would ever unlock. But whoever lurked beneath that black cloak had a will of iron--the rare ability to resist the mighty Eye of Divinity--and even Aldreya was no match for him.

  "I'll deal with the rider," said Prince Vannas. The lean Tree Dweller glanced at Aldreya for confirmation. "If you approve, of course."

  "I do not," said Aldreya. "You have the siege engines to deal with, and the Trolls and Ogres too. Lannon and I will confront the leader. Surely the two of us will be more than he can handle."

  "One would think," said Lannon, but he wasn't sure. The ability to resist the Eye always unnerved him.

  "We're outnumbered," said Bekka Nightspear, shielding her eyes from the sun as she gazed at the Goblin army. The tall, muscular, dark-skinned warrior was in charge of the Blue Knights, and she had become a close friend to Aldreya. "We've got thirty warriors against...at least a hundred Goblins."

  "And these are not just any Goblins," Lannon pointed out. He could see the strange shadows that clung to the monsters. These were the mysterious Dark Goblins (as they had come to be named) that were stronger, faster, and smarter than the typical ones. They were also more resistant to injury.

  The dark rider moved out from beneath the oak tree--until he sat alone with the Goblin army behind him.

  "I think we wants to talk," said Lannon.

  Aldreya didn't answer. She waited for a few moments, and when the rider made no further move, she said, "Well, let's go see what he wants, Lannon. It's better than standing around all day staring each other down."

  Jerret started forward. "I'll go as well."

  But Aldreya waved him back. "No, just Lannon and I, no weapons drawn."

  "What if you're attacked?" asked Jerret.

  She ignored him, and Lannon accompanied her across the clearing. The bed of moss was soft beneath Lannon's boots, and a pleasant breeze touched his face. He adjusted the hood of his cloak, allowing it to partially conceal his face. There was power in secrecy. Stealth was the way of a Blue Knight and a Dark Watchman. The shadows of concealment were a welcome embrace, leaving Lannon detached from the bright, noisy, and exposed world--allowing him to deal with his troubles without being totally immersed in them. His way of stealth left his foes confused and fearful of the unknown.

  But the rider showed only confidence as they approached. Though his face was lost in darkness beneath his hood (except for his black beard), the way he sat so relaxed in the saddle--with his Goblins apart from him--indicated that he didn't consider Lannon and Aldreya much of a threat. He was a giant--well over six feet in height with broad shoulders. His cloak was adorned with small black chains as if it were used as armor. His hands were concealed by black gloves. In fact, no part of his flesh was visible, but Lannon could sense flesh and blood beneath the cloth and metal. A strange, ancient smell hung about him, like old books or passageways--as if he had been locked away from fresh air for quite sometime. His black horse was a mighty Goblin steed with yellow eyes, a muscular beast with a spiked tail, armor plating covering parts of its fur, and hoofs that could pierce a stout breastplate.

  "So here we are," said Aldreya, standing before him. She looked small in comparison to the huge horse and rider. His battle axe looked like it could crush her into the earth. "What do you want?"

  "For you to leave Ollanhar," said the rider, his voice low and almost inhuman. "I want you to return to Dremlock where you belong."

  Anger arose within Lannon. "Bellis has sent you to harass and intimidate us, though of course King Verlamer will admit to nothing."

  The rider nodded. "No point in denying it, with just the two of you to hear. One way or another, Bellis will crush this attempt at expansion. King Verlamer will see to it. Dremlock must keep to itself and stay
out of the affairs of the land."

  "Or what?" asked Aldreya.

  The rider laughed. "Or there will be a forest of bodies on spikes for all to see. A few towns burned to ash--after we've had some fun with the townsfolk. A lot of dead Knights left for the Vultures. Understand?"

  "We understand." Lannon's hand tightened around his sword hilt. "Now that you've delivered your message, you can leave."

  "I need an answer first," said the rider. "Are you going to pack up and leave Ollanhar immediately?"

  "Never," said Aldreya. "Did you think we would?"

  "Of course not," said the rider. "And that's why Dremlock put an unyielding Birlote in charge rather than the cowardly Bearer of the Eye--to make sure you fools would fight to the death to defend this worthless tower."

  Lannon didn't respond. The rider was wrong about him, but better for him to think Lannon a coward and underestimate him.

  "You don't recognize me, Lannon Sunshield," said the rider. "Doesn't my voice sound familiar to you?"

  Instantly Lannon thought of Tenneth Bard--the legendary Black Knight who had terrorized Dremlock and nearly brought about its ruin. But Tenneth Bard seemed more phantom than living flesh, and last Lannon knew, the Black Knight had been trapped in a pit of Tharnin.

  "I have no idea who you are," said Lannon. He instantly regretted the statement, for it revealed his inability to use the Eye on this foe.

  "In time, you'll realize the truth," said the rider. "You may even realize it when your sword meets my axe--in the very near future."

  "Enough of this useless talk," said Aldreya. "You are not welcome here." She pointed to the north. "Go now--back to the reeking marsh that spawned your army. And may the mud swallow you."

  For a moment, the rider sat like a statue. Then his mighty axe rose and fell toward Aldreya. The move was so fast that even the quick Birlote girl had no time to respond.

  But Lannon sensed the attack, and he froze the rider in the grasp of the Eye. Nevertheless, Lannon was almost too slow--as the axe stopped in its downward swing only inches from Aldreya's head. Had Lannon been a bit slower, Aldreya might have been split in two before she realized she had been struck.

  Her eyes wide with shock over the speed of the attack, Aldreya leapt away from the rider, stone dagger in hand.

  The dark rider broke Lannon's hold. Up came the mighty axe once again, now backed by rage and sorcery.

  Lannon drew his Dragon sword.

  Bloodshed had begun.