Knights: Book 01 - The Eye of Divinity Page 2

  ***

  When Lannon reached the clearing where his house sat, three horses with finely crafted saddles and packs stood at the edge of the grass, looking like grey statues in the mist, their huge, muscular bodies seemingly carved from stone. Only their dark eyes moved, cautiously watching Lannon as he stepped from the forest. These horses were free to move about, yet they simply stood and waited patiently for their masters to return. Displayed on the black saddle blanket of each horse was the Crest of Dremlock Kingdom--a bizarre image of a cluster of three purple crystals set on a white background. Below each crest was a name and title in green letters: Cordus Landsaver, Lord Knight; Taris Warhawk, East Tower Master; Furlus Goblincrusher, West Tower Master.

  Lannon's breath caught in his throat, so shocked was he that Knights had come to his little valley. But there was no mistaking it. The names and titles were very familiar even to someone as isolated as Lannon, and the breed of the horses alone was a giveaway, for these great beasts--called Greywinds--were bred exclusively in the stables of Dremlock Kingdom. No one but a Knight was permitted to ride one. Without a doubt, these horses belonged to the Knights of the Divine Order--and to the three most respected of all, the Lord Knight and his Tower Masters.

  Lannon couldn't fathom why such famous Knights would venture into his remote valley. He peered in through a window. The three Knights were indeed in his home, seated around a table in the dining room and eating heartily. His father sat at the table also, looking pale yet not greatly concerned, while his mother, her hands trembling, served milk from a pitcher. Tory's face was bright red with embarrassment, undoubtedly due to the messiness of the house.

  "The Knights are just visiting," Lannon whispered nervously. "Probably just passing through." Perhaps they were on their way somewhere important and had simply stopped in for a meal and a rest.

  Gathering his courage, Lannon hurried inside. He'd seen these Knights before, but not this close, and for a moment he could only stare in awe at them. Taris Warhawk, the Birlote (or Tree Dweller, as some called them), wore a grey, hooded cloak. His bright green eyes, which were set in a pointy-chinned face, reflected wisdom and power and contrasted his bronze-colored skin. Furlus Goblincrusher, despite being a bit short in height--he was, after all, an Olrog (or Grey Dwarf, as some called them)--was reputed to be one of the strongest Knights ever. His plate armor and battle axe looked to weigh a ton, yet the muscles that bulged beneath that armor were more than up to the task. His beard, which was a darker shade of grey than his flesh, was as broad as his chest, while his small eyes were set beneath drooping brows. Cordus Landsaver, the Lord Knight of Dremlock, was taller than the other two, and he wore a shining silver breastplate, engraved with an image of three towers, that Lannon's gaze kept straying to as if drawn there by some unseen force. His dark hair and beard were somewhat unkempt, his blue eyes fierce.

  "Greetings, Lannon," Cordus Landsaver said. "We've been waiting for you."

  Lannon struggled to find his voice. Then he blurted out, "Good to meet you." He bowed somewhat shakily. He strove to calm his nerves, wanting only to make a good impression on the Divine Knights.

  Cordus and Furlus exchanged an amused glance. But Taris Warhawk's gleaming eyes regarded Lannon coldly from under his hood.

  "Your father tells me you were named after his brother," said Cordus. "Yet you bear the last name of Sunshield. A Knightly name, from the sound of it."

  Lannon nodded. "My father gave me that name."

  "And it's a fine name," grunted Furlus Goblincrusher. "He bears a shield of light. Not just any light, but the greatest of all found in nature--that of the sun itself. Darkness cannot exist in the presence of such a light. Yes, it's a fine name indeed."

  "I disagree," said Taris Warhawk, a sneer on his lips. "The sun knows nothing of good or evil. His shield then is neutral. It serves neither justice nor corruption. It simply exists like the sun--a soulless object without Knightly stature."

  "The sun gives life and warms the world," said Cordus, smiling. "Without it, all would die. What you do think, boy?"

  Lannon shrugged, unsure of how to reply. Heroic last names were a tradition with the Knights, but Sunshield was a name Lannon had always felt was stupid. Why couldn't his father have picked something bold sounding like Dragonslayer or Axemaster? For some reason, his father had always hoped he would become a Knight of the Divine Order. Lannon had never believed there was even a slight chance his wish would be granted and he'd passed it off as more of his father's insanity. But his father had taken it very seriously. Back when Doanan was still able to work, he'd paid a woman in Knights Welcome to teach Lannon how to read and write, and he'd taken the boy to that town every year for Admittance Day (which was a day when the Knights recruited Squires) until Doanan became too ill to travel. The Knights had never even glanced at Lannon until now.

  "Answer him, Lannon," his father commanded.

  "It's a good name, I guess," said Lannon, avoiding looking at Taris. When Furlus and Cordus nodded in agreement, Lannon gained a little confidence. "I don't think my father could have chosen a better one." Doanan beamed with pride, having no clue how much his son actually detested the name.

  "I like it," said Cordus. "But a name is still just a name--amusing and worth some friendly debate, but certainly not very important. So can you fight?"

  "I'm not too bad at it," said Lannon, stretching the truth to the breaking point. He gazed at the floor, unable to look the Lord Knight in the eye. He didn't know if he could fight, since he'd never tried it before (unless one considered swinging sticks at rotten logs to be fighting).

  "The boy doesn't look very strong," said Furlus.

  "I can use a club," said Lannon. "I've practiced in the woods." This, at least, was true. He'd begun to realize the Knights might be considering making him a Squire, which Lannon had always dreamt of, and he struggled furiously to think of ways he could impress them despite the fact that he didn't consider himself very impressive.

  "Might be handy with a mace," said Cordus, nodding to Taris. "But are you stout in spirit? For that is even more important."

  "Maybe," said Lannon. "I'm not really sure about that." He was certainly more stouthearted than a Tree Goblin, if that meant anything. "Is there a way to test me?" Lannon knew there was, for he'd seen other lads tested in Knights Welcome on Admittance Day.

  "Come over here," said Cordus. "I'm going to find out for myself what you're made of."

  Lannon glanced at his father. Doanan nodded to his son. A desperate hope was in his father's eyes. This was the most important test Lannon would face. It would probably determine whether or not he would become a Squire.

  Lannon shuffled over to Cordus. He knew he wasn't very powerful, being a bit on the skinny side, but in the back of his mind he hoped Cordus would find something of value in him. Maybe Cordus would see something in Lannon that was hidden even from the boy. Perhaps the Lord Knight had already glimpsed something and that was why he was testing him. Did Lannon dare even hope?

  "Kneel," Cordus commanded.

  His knees feeling a bit weak, Lannon knelt before the great Knight. He didn't look at his father and mother, but he knew their faces were tense with anxiety. Cordus placed a hand on Lannon's forehead and held it there for a few moments. Warmth spread through the boy, reaching deep into his being and drawing forth his secrets. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Lannon squirmed beneath that touch.

  "Hold still, lad!"

  Finally the Lord Knight withdrew his hand. Disappointment was in his eyes. "Enough," he said. "You've done well."

  But Lannon knew he'd not done well at all. Glancing toward his father and mother--especially his father--he saw that they knew, too. Doanan's greatest wish was for him to be a Knight. If Lannon failed now, after coming this close, it might push Doanan the rest of the way into the grave. But Lannon could do nothing about it. It was up to the Knights.

  "It's my turn," said Taris. "Come here, Lannon."

  Feeling a spark of hope, Lannon
went to Taris and knelt. Though Taris seemed at odds with Lannon, the boy hoped the Birlote would see something Cordus had missed. This time a wave of energy seemed to flood through Lannon. It left him paralyzed yet it was not as discomforting as Cordus' touch. It lasted only a moment.

  "That is all," said Taris, removing his hand. His expression beneath his hood was rigid, leaving no indication of success or failure.

  Next it was Furlus' turn. His touch was more like that of Cordus--a probing of Lannon's secrets. Furlus took a bit more time than the others. When he pulled his meaty hand away, he frowned and shook his head. "Not much there."

  "We shall talk," said Cordus, to the Tower Masters.

  The three Knights went into the living room, standing amid heaps of junk. They spoke quietly, yet Lannon had sharp ears and could hear much of what was said. He leaned against the table, watching them anxiously. He avoided looking directly at his mother and father, yet from the corner of his eye he saw they were holding hands, their eyes closed as if in prayer. This was the first time Lannon had seen them show any sort of affection for each other in many years.

  Cordus paced about, while Taris and Furlus stood with their eyes fixed on their leader. "I truly thought the Signs were pointing to this boy," the Lord Knight mumbled. "Yet his Knightly Essence felt very weak, almost nothing. I doubt he could ever amount to anything. Yet he bears the name of Sunshield, and during the Communication, the Divine Essence said to watch for the mark of the sun, which would be found just beyond the Four Lakes. How can I ignore this? Yet I sensed no special power within him."

  "I like the boy," said Furlus, "but his will is certainly not forged of steel. And I also sensed no hidden power."

  "Lannon has no exceptional talent for sorcery," said Taris. "And he seems to lack any other special abilities. Yet I feel, instinctively perhaps, there is something different about him. We need to test him further somehow. Remember, we know little about the Eye of Divinity. Yet one thing we do know is that it is highly unpredictable. I feel we should talk with Lannon alone, and learn more about him."

  The Lord Knight glanced sternly toward Lannon, and the boy took to gazing at the floor, pretending not to be eavesdropping. After that, the Knights whispered amongst themselves, and Lannon couldn't make out any of it. Meanwhile, their previous words tumbled through his mind, and the only thing he could gather from it was that they had yet to make their decision regarding him.

  Doanan placed a trembling hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know the Knights are deciding your fate, but whatever happens, I'll be proud of you until the end of my days. Take heart in that, if no other good comes of this."

  Lannon forced a smile, knowing his father might indeed be proud of him but that it would in no way curb Doanan's deep disappointment if Lannon failed to become a Squire. Yet at least for once his parents weren't fighting about anything. The little house seemed strangely quiet.

  As the Knights entered the dining room, Doanan sighed deeply, as if the will and strength had been sapped from him. He glanced back and forth from the Knights to his son. He looked as if he wanted to say something but was holding himself in check. Doanan's lifelong dream--as crazy as it had always seemed to Lannon--now hung in the balance, and Lannon's father could do nothing but wait. His words would make no difference to the Knights.

  "We would like to talk to you outside, Lannon," said Cordus, "and learn more about you. There are questions that still need answering, but we need to speak to you alone."

  "We could go to the Quiet Spot," said Lannon. "It's the best place in the woods, with lots of old stones. I go there all the time. "

  "It's not necessary," said Cordus. "We only need to step outside for a moment and ask you a few questions, while your parents remain in here."

  "I would like to see this Quiet Spot for myself," said Taris.

  Cordus nodded. "If you must."

  "I would be very much honored," Tory said, "if you would all return for dinner later. We are poor, but I offer you the best we have."

  Cordus bowed. "Thank you for your kindness, but we probably won't be staying that long. Once our business with Lannon is finished, we must move on. The affairs of our kingdom cannot be kept waiting."

  "Cordus may change his mind," said Furlus. "We could use a good meal, and he may yet come to his senses. You'll want to set the table just in case."

  "That won't be necessary," said Cordus, nodding to Tory and moving toward the door. "But again I thank you for your kindness."

  Furlus motioned to the table and winked at Tory. "Red meat, my lady, if you've got it. And ale, of course." Furlus nudged a jug with his toe. "I see you have plenty of that, at least." Furlus laid a few silver coins on the table. "For your troubles, of course."

  "I wouldn't think of it," said Tory, though her eyes strayed longingly to the coins, which were worth more than she made in a month at the fishery. "You are a guest here, and this is not an inn."

  "Consider it a gift for your hospitality," said Furlus. When she still made no move to pick up the coins, he frowned. "Will you not except a gift from a Knight of Dremlock Kingdom?"

  Tory's face reddened, and she swiped up the coins. "Of course we will! And we thank you most sincerely. I shall prepare a meal at once."

  Doanan stepped toward Lannon and seemed eager to speak to his son, but then he hung his head and said nothing.

  ***

  As they strode through the woods on foot, Lannon's heart raced as he led them onward. He was overflowing with the hope that he would be made a Squire, that he would at last be free of his miserable existence in this remote valley. He felt there had to be some way he could convince the Knights he was worth choosing (even if he actually wasn't). Lost in his ponderings and anxieties, Lannon wandered past the Quiet Spot in the misty woods for a fair distance before realizing where he was. But the Knights knew nothing of this forest, and so Lannon simply acted as if he knew exactly where he was going, circling back until they reached the stream surrounded by the ring of mossy boulders.

  Taris Warhawk kept his distance from the others, leaning against an oak by the water. He'd almost faded into the mist, with only a vague outline of his cloak visible next to the huge, knotted tree trunk. Furlus stood next to Cordus, his arms folded across his barrel chest, frowning as he gazed at the ground.

  Cordus glanced about and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of the moss and twisted oaks. "This spot feels like some areas of Knightwood, a forest which surrounds my kingdom, and the trees here are of equal stature."

  Lannon nodded. His apprehension was strong, but he tried to look to the positive side of things. Even if he didn't end up a Squire, why not just enjoy spending time with these great Knights while the time still existed?

  "Tell me a few things about yourself, lad," said Cordus.

  Lannon gulped, struggling to think of anything even slightly interesting about his life. But there was nothing, and so finally he just told the truth. "I mostly just live here in the valley," he stammered.

  "Have you ever had any strange experiences?" Cordus asked. "Dreams getting confused with reality? Or knowing things you should not be able to know? Strive to remember anything out of the ordinary."

  Lannon tried, but could only remember a few odd and senseless dreams. He related them to Cordus.

  "Nothing exceptional there," muttered Furlus.

  Taris pulled moss off some of the boulders and knelt to study the exposed rock. "These stones were placed here deliberately," he called out. "Many have fallen, but once they formed a precise and partial circle. Quite unusual."

  "Try harder, Lannon," Cordus said, apparently ignoring Taris. "There is no need to hurry. Just think carefully back over the years."

  For a moment, Lannon considered making something up. It wouldn't be hard to invent one or two incidents to gain the Lord Knight's interest, provided they weren't too fantastic in nature. Lannon felt he was smart enough to make himself sound believable. Yet before he put his imagination to work, he struggled briefly with hi
s conscience and his fears over lying to the leader of what was widely considered to be a sacred kingdom. Finally he realized his desire to escape this valley and become a Knight was too strong. He would lie if he had to and deal with the consequences later.

  But Lannon never got the chance.

  How long have you lived here?" asked Cordus.

  "In Knights Valley?" said Lannon. "All my life."

  "What did you call this place?" said Cordus, raising his eyebrows.

  "Knights Valley," said Lannon. "I found the name on a rock."

  "Show me this rock," said Cordus.

  Taris Warhawk seemed to take sudden interest in the conversation. He moved over by them, a silent shadow in the mist.

  "It's right over here," said Lannon. He brushed some twigs and leaves off a boulder. I found the name under some moss."

  The three Knights stared at the engraving with their brows knitted in confusion. They glanced at each other and then at Lannon.

  "It's just three runes," said Furlus. "This is not Olrog, Birlote, or Norack writing. Are you trying to trick us, boy?"

  "I don't think he is attempting deception," said Taris. "I believe these runes are engraved in the Sacred Text. This must have been a meeting place of the Dark Watchmen. The circle of boulders reveals that. Only someone with the Eye of Divinity could read this. Lannon must have the gift."

  "Then Lannon is the one we've sought," Cordus said, grinning. "Our journey here has paid off." Then, glancing at Lannon, he became stern again. "Unless he is lying to us."

  "It says Knights Valley," said Lannon, baffled.

  "The Sacred Text cannot be read by anyone but a Dark Watchman," said Taris, "which is one who possesses the Eye of Divinity. To all others it is meaningless--a code that cannot be solved. I doubt the boy is lying to us, Cordus. It seems he would lack the knowledge to invent such a scheme."

  "But his Knightly Essence is weak," Cordus said, turning to the sorcerer. "This is very strange. What do you make of it?"