Knights: Book 03 - The Heart of Shadows by Robert E. Keller Page A
Authors: Robert E. Keller
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Dremlock?"
Jerret
looked uncomfortable. "Mine was boring. Very boring."
"Then
by all means keep it to yourself," said Prince Vannas, yawning. He leaned
back on his elbows. "I'd rather not hear a boring story."
"I
want to hear it," said Galvia.
"Trust
me, you don't," said Jerret. He shifted about, almost appearing to squirm.
"It will put you to sleep."
Galvia
gave him a curious stare.
Lothrin
sheathed his dagger, his green eyes gleaming in the lantern light. The lean
Squire sat with his legs crossed, some jerky on one knee and his sharpening
stone on the other. His long, silver hair partially concealed the strange,
leaf-shaped birthmark on his face. "The past doesn't matter now, because
we're here together. We can make our own destiny."
Vannas
held up the pouch containing the White Flamestone. "My destiny is this,
cousin. The only destiny I want or need."
Lothrin
shook his head. "Your destiny is not a stone, oh prince. That's just a
weapon, like my dagger."
"Not
just a weapon," said Vannas. "The ultimate weapon."
"Don't
be a prisoner of that stone," said Lothrin, frowning.
"Prisoner?"
said Vannas. "Hardly. This Flamestone is bonded to me. It is a part of me
now and a part of my future."
"You're
a man," said Lothrin. "Flesh and blood, and nothing more. Be a simple
man who holds a great stone, not a great man who holds a great stone--or that
stone will crush you with the weight of its burden."
Vannas
laughed. "You and your silly riddles. I always did like that about you. It
amuses me."
Lothrin
chuckled. "Glad I can entertain, at least."
Lannon
considered the meaning of Lothrin's words. Vannas seemed obsessed with the
White Flamestone and terribly overconfident--not hesitant in the least to brag
about his power, as if he'd forgotten it all came from the stone. He seemed too
caught up in his own greatness and sense of destiny. Lannon wondered why the
Eye of Divinity had never had that same effect on him. Lannon had always been
fearful of the Eye, and though his confidence in using it had increased, the
fear and uncertainty remained. The Eye of Divinity seemed darker than the White
Flamestone and laced with peril, having led the Dark Watchmen to a bad end. On
the other hand, perhaps the power of the White Flamestone seemed incorruptible
to Vannas--and perhaps it was incorruptible, but Vannas himself was not.
Thrake
Wolfaxe stepped into the tent, rain dripping from his beard. He sat down and
smiled. His huge, muscular form shivered beneath the fur cloak he wore over his
armor. He seemed to take up half the tent. "Greetings, Squires."
They
greeted him in return. Aldreya quickly moved to his side to dry him with her dagger,
but Thrake seized her arm. "None of that," he said gruffly, pushing
her away. "I'll take care of it myself."
Aldreya
bowed and sat back down.
Thrake
drew his own dagger and set to work drying himself off with the mystical fire.
"You should be able to rest easy, Squires. You're very well protected. No
foe can get to this tent without a serious fight on his hands."
"Thank
you, Master Thrake," said Jerret, who idolized the Red Knight and seemed
to think of him almost like an older brother. "I know that with you
guarding us, we have nothing to fear."
For
an instant, a shadow of doubt settled over Thrake's face. Then he gave a weary
smile. "I hope that's true, Jerret."
"Thanks
to you and Master Shennen," said Prince Vannas, "I can sleep in
peace." He hesitated, then said, "Master Shennen is guarding us as
well, right?"
Thrake
frowned. "Yes."
"Is
something wrong?" asked Vannas, his eyes narrowing.
"Nothing
I will speak of," said Thrake.
"It's
about Master Shennen," said Aldreya. "Right?"
Thrake
glared at her. "Did you not hear what I just said, Birlote? I don't care
to speak about this topic."
"My
apologies," said Aldreya.
Thrake
slapped his knee and sighed. "I didn't come here to be harsh with you
Squires. Rather, I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of you. I've
never seen a finer or
Jerret
looked uncomfortable. "Mine was boring. Very boring."
"Then
by all means keep it to yourself," said Prince Vannas, yawning. He leaned
back on his elbows. "I'd rather not hear a boring story."
"I
want to hear it," said Galvia.
"Trust
me, you don't," said Jerret. He shifted about, almost appearing to squirm.
"It will put you to sleep."
Galvia
gave him a curious stare.
Lothrin
sheathed his dagger, his green eyes gleaming in the lantern light. The lean
Squire sat with his legs crossed, some jerky on one knee and his sharpening
stone on the other. His long, silver hair partially concealed the strange,
leaf-shaped birthmark on his face. "The past doesn't matter now, because
we're here together. We can make our own destiny."
Vannas
held up the pouch containing the White Flamestone. "My destiny is this,
cousin. The only destiny I want or need."
Lothrin
shook his head. "Your destiny is not a stone, oh prince. That's just a
weapon, like my dagger."
"Not
just a weapon," said Vannas. "The ultimate weapon."
"Don't
be a prisoner of that stone," said Lothrin, frowning.
"Prisoner?"
said Vannas. "Hardly. This Flamestone is bonded to me. It is a part of me
now and a part of my future."
"You're
a man," said Lothrin. "Flesh and blood, and nothing more. Be a simple
man who holds a great stone, not a great man who holds a great stone--or that
stone will crush you with the weight of its burden."
Vannas
laughed. "You and your silly riddles. I always did like that about you. It
amuses me."
Lothrin
chuckled. "Glad I can entertain, at least."
Lannon
considered the meaning of Lothrin's words. Vannas seemed obsessed with the
White Flamestone and terribly overconfident--not hesitant in the least to brag
about his power, as if he'd forgotten it all came from the stone. He seemed too
caught up in his own greatness and sense of destiny. Lannon wondered why the
Eye of Divinity had never had that same effect on him. Lannon had always been
fearful of the Eye, and though his confidence in using it had increased, the
fear and uncertainty remained. The Eye of Divinity seemed darker than the White
Flamestone and laced with peril, having led the Dark Watchmen to a bad end. On
the other hand, perhaps the power of the White Flamestone seemed incorruptible
to Vannas--and perhaps it was incorruptible, but Vannas himself was not.
Thrake
Wolfaxe stepped into the tent, rain dripping from his beard. He sat down and
smiled. His huge, muscular form shivered beneath the fur cloak he wore over his
armor. He seemed to take up half the tent. "Greetings, Squires."
They
greeted him in return. Aldreya quickly moved to his side to dry him with her dagger,
but Thrake seized her arm. "None of that," he said gruffly, pushing
her away. "I'll take care of it myself."
Aldreya
bowed and sat back down.
Thrake
drew his own dagger and set to work drying himself off with the mystical fire.
"You should be able to rest easy, Squires. You're very well protected. No
foe can get to this tent without a serious fight on his hands."
"Thank
you, Master Thrake," said Jerret, who idolized the Red Knight and seemed
to think of him almost like an older brother. "I know that with you
guarding us, we have nothing to fear."
For
an instant, a shadow of doubt settled over Thrake's face. Then he gave a weary
smile. "I hope that's true, Jerret."
"Thanks
to you and Master Shennen," said Prince Vannas, "I can sleep in
peace." He hesitated, then said, "Master Shennen is guarding us as
well, right?"
Thrake
frowned. "Yes."
"Is
something wrong?" asked Vannas, his eyes narrowing.
"Nothing
I will speak of," said Thrake.
"It's
about Master Shennen," said Aldreya. "Right?"
Thrake
glared at her. "Did you not hear what I just said, Birlote? I don't care
to speak about this topic."
"My
apologies," said Aldreya.
Thrake
slapped his knee and sighed. "I didn't come here to be harsh with you
Squires. Rather, I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am of you. I've
never seen a finer or
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