Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

Prince Vannas suddenly opened his eyes and sat up, his hand latching onto his cloak where the Flamestone was concealed in its pouch. He started to cry out but stopped himself, his breath rushing out in relief. "Ah, I was only dreaming! It was a true nightmare. I dreamt that I had lost the White Flamestone and everyone closest to me had turned against me."

Lothrin smiled at the prince. "No one has turned against you, my cousin. You know I will always guard your back."

Vannas nodded. "And I know Lannon will too. I will return to sleep, knowing I'm safe in the company of such good friends."

As the prince lay back down and drifted off again, his hand still clutching the bulge in his cloak where the White Flamestone was held, his face was peaceful in the soft lantern glow.

But Lothrin's face was troubled.

The next day, the Squires asked about Lannon's new items. They were especially impressed by the jeweled dagger. Prince Vannas recognized it as a Birlote weapon of royalty and seemed to hold it in high regard. He demanded to know how Lannon had acquired it. Lannon replied that he'd taken an oath of secrecy, and his friends respected that and didn't ask again. They didn't know about the Glaetherin throwing star, however, for Lannon kept it concealed in his cloak.

The journey around the western end of the Firepit Mountains was uneventful. The weather in Silverland was often unpredictable, and the spring rains and melting snows had given way to ice and frost. Winter refused to surrender its grip on the land, making the journey more miserable than anticipated.

At last they found themselves in the forestlands of Hethos, where trees often reached heights of more than two-hundred feet with trunks as wide as cabins. These ancient trees had never faced saw or axe because they were considered sacred to the people of Silverland and were believed to help hold back the Bloodlands. Some of them had lived for thousands of years-oaks, maples, and sprawling beeches with twisted trunks and silver leaves. This land was also known as the Kingsforest and in some places, the Northern Hills. Stone ruins of ancient keeps stood amongst the trees or protruded from snowy hillsides. Large snowflakes were falling, covering the massive limbs of the trees and settling over the hills. Farms stood here and there in valleys, smoke rising from chimneys. The beauty of Hethos was captivating, especially with the silver snowflakes swirling through the air.

At one point, Hethos had been swarming with Goblins, led by the Goblin Lords that seemed invincible at the time. But After Lannon had supplied Dremlock with the knowledge of how to defeat the Lords, the tables had quickly turned and many of the Goblins had been killed or driven back into the Bloodlands. Since then, Hethos had become a far more peaceful land.

But there was trouble to be found in Hethos still. A farmer and his teenage daughter made a desperate appeal to the Knights. The farmer approached them on foot, a bent-backed old man in a fur hat. He wore a thick, dirty cloak-displaying several colorful patches-to protect against the cold, along with a fur scarf that hung almost to his feet. He had a scruffy grey beard and an ugly scar where one eye used to be. His daughter was pretty, with curly blond hair and a ragged, dirty dress over which was thrown a fur cloak.

"Knights of Dremlock, help me!" the farmer pleaded, bowing to Taris. "A monstrous serpent has crawled into my barn and killed some of my cows. I fear that it will kill and eat all of them before it is done. My cows are all I have!"

"Describe this serpent," said Taris.

"It has the stink of evil," said the farmer, "of the Bloodlands." He shuddered. "It has a head like that of a woman. Made me sick just to look upon it. It started toward me, and I was forced to lock it in the barn."

"A Pit Crawler," said Trenton, disgust in his voice.

"Please help my father!" the daughter pleaded. "This winter has been terribly hard. If we lose our cattle, I don't know how we'll make due."

Taris sighed. "How far away is the farm?"

The man pointed to a small, nearby valley. "Just over there."

"We will help you," said Taris.

The farmer bowed, and then his daughter did the same. "We are grateful, oh Divine Knights," the old man said.

The company rode to the farm and gathered before the barn. An evil stench hung in the air. The sounds of distressed cattle came from within.

"Be careful!" the farmer cried. "If you startle the serpent, it might strike out at my cows."

"Let me handle it, Master Taris!" Jerret begged, drawing his broadsword.

Taris shook his head. "I think Lannon is best suited for this task."

"Why put Lannon in danger?" asked Trenton. "We have many Knights to choose from, and a Pit Crawler is nothing to fool with."

"This farmer can't afford to lose his cows," said Taris, with a shrug. "Lannon has the ability to contain the beast. And he needs the experience."

"I agree," said Shennen. "Let Lannon get some practice."

"Foolish," Trenton muttered. "You send a prized Squire when we have an army of fully trained Knights? I don't understand you, Taris."

Taris smiled. "You're not required to understand me." He gazed sternly at Lannon. "Go and kill the Pit Crawler."

Lannon bowed, then swung down from his horse. He approached the barn, where the farmer and his daughter stood, and drew his sword. The two gazed at Lannon with wide eyes, perplexed over why a mere teenage boy was being sent alone to deal with the monster in the barn.

"What are you going to do?" the farmer asked.

"I'll try to draw it out," said Lannon. He was nervous, for a Pit Crawler's bite was instant death. But he focused on his training, calming himself. This was what Divine Knights did-kill Goblins. It was something he was going to have to get used to. If he couldn't handle this task, he had no business remaining with Dremlock.

"I suggest standing back a bit," he said, "in case anything goes wrong."

The daughter smiled and blew Lannon a kiss. "You're truly a brave Knight, to do this task alone when you have an army looking on."

Lannon blushed, but stood a bit taller. "Thank you." He didn't care to explain that he was only a Squire. His gaze lingered on her pretty face for a moment, but then he forced himself to focus on his duties.

The farmer led his daughter some distance away, to where the Knights sat on horseback. Lannon walked to the barn door, which was sealed with a plank. He put his back to the wall beside the door. Then he slid the plank over with the Eye. He pushed the double-door open and waited, his sword raised and his heart pounding. One bite and he was dead, Eye of Divinity or not. Nothing could stop the venom of a Pit Crawler. In spite of his efforts to calm himself, he realized he was trembling slightly (fortunately not enough for anyone to notice).

When nothing happened, Lannon sent his gaze into the barn and examined the scene. Six cows were dead and partially eaten. The Pit Crawler was indeed huge, its body stretching nearly the full length of the barn. Its humanoid head was raised, its fangs dripping blood. It was staring at the open door. Meanwhile, the surviving cattle shuffled about in agitation in their stalls.

Gently, Lannon tugged on the Pit Crawler with the Eye-pulling it toward the door. The serpent-like body reared up higher and then began moving in Lannon's direction. The others watched in tense silence. Some of the archers-including Lothrin-had arrows trained on the door.

Slowly, cautiously, the humanoid head poked out of the barn, the jaws open wide and a forked tongue protruding from between the bloody fangs. Lannon considered whether or not to try to freeze the huge beast, but he realized if he failed, it might drive the Pit Crawler into a fury.

Instead, Lannon slashed at the thick neck with his sword, using the Eye to guide the blade and enhance the stroke. It was also a risky move, but it worked to perfection. The Dragon sword sliced through the beast's flesh and lopped off the head. As the head fell to the snow, the huge body went into a frenzy, coiling and twisting around horrifically. Lannon was forced to duck as the dying beast smashed itself against the barn, and then he dashed away from it.