Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

The Squires didn't sleep for the rest of that night (though dawn was only a couple hours away regardless). They were worried about Taris and the other injured Knights, and anxious over the coming duel. Lannon felt wretched for siding against Shennen, and he kept wondering if he'd made the right decision. He couldn't understand why Taris had rejected Shennen from participating in the duel, but Taris had wisdom far beyond that of Lannon. Lannon suspected it had to do with Shennen's former obsession with the Dragon bones. Perhaps Taris still didn't fully trust the Blue Knight. Lannon, however, was confident Shennen was firmly on Dremlock's side.

"I think Daledus is a good choice," said Jerret. "He seems like a stout fighter." His anger and sadness over Thrake having diminished some, Jerret had taken a bit of a liking recently to Daledus and his brash attitude.

"I couldn't disagree more," said Prince Vannas, with a disdainful expression. "Daledus is vastly overconfident-the doom of all Knights."

"I guess you know all about overconfidence," said Jerret.

Vannas glared at him but didn't respond.

"I agree with you, cousin," said Lothrin, to the prince. "I think Daledus is the wrong choice. This Ulmason fellow is very experienced and full of tricks. Daledus is young and strong, but I suspect Ulmason will outsmart him."

"I think Daledus can win," said Galvia, who was still lying atop her quilt and holding her stomach. Her breathing was heavy from pain. "His strength is unrivaled-except maybe by that of Furlus Goblincrusher."

"I understand Taris had his reasons," said Aldreya, "but I would feel a lot more confident if Shennen was fighting the duel."

"Because he's a Birlote?" said Jerret, sneering.

"No," said Aldreya, looking annoyed, "because he has a great deal of combat experience and he is simply the best swordsman at Dremlock."

"What about you, Lannon?" asked Jerret.

Lannon shrugged. "I don't know much about Daledus. But I do agree that Shennen would have a great chance of winning the duel. It doesn't matter, anyway. It will be Daledus, at dawn."

They fell silent for a while, focusing on staying warm.

Then Aldreya said, "What if Taris never recovers? He had a very nasty head wound. That type of wound can change someone-make them strange or feeble until the end of their days."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," said Vannas. "He survived a vicious attack from the Hand of Tharnin. He can survive this."

"Taris' skills have been improving lately," said Aldreya. "He has reached levels that only the Birlote wizards have obtained. Who knows how far he could go? If he should die now…like this…"

"Taris is very resilient," said Lothrin, "and I'm certain he'll be back on his feet soon enough."

"But his mind may have been damaged," said Aldreya. "I studied the wound, and it had penetrated his skull." She shuddered. "I fear greatly for him. If Dremlock loses Taris Warhawk, how will it endure?"

"Good question," said Lannon, his heart gloomy. He couldn't imagine losing Taris. The sorcerer seemed more important even than the Lord Knight. He was the wisdom of Dremlock, and his power was unmatched. Lannon thought back to when Taris had seemed to be dying from the injuries inflicted by the Hand of Tharnin. Now it was happening all over again. Aldreya knew a thing or two about wounds and healing, and Lannon trusted her opinion on the matter. If she felt Taris was in grave danger, she was undoubtedly correct. Who would Lannon turn to for guidance if Taris passed on? No one else seemed to know as much about the Eye of Divinity.

"Everyone should try to get a bit more sleep," said Lothrin, pulling his quilt over him. "Worrying will do us no good."

But no one, including Lothrin, took that advice.

The next day, warmer spring weather crept back into the land. The sky was still overcast, but the snow was beginning to melt again, water dripping from the rooftops and log walls. It was warm enough that some removed their fur cloaks to reveal armor and color sashes. The duel arena was the fortress grounds, in an area apart from the Knightly tents. As before, the Knights and Soldiers formed a circle around the two combatants, with Trenton and Timlin on either side. Daledus Oakfist and Ulmason Deathhand faced each other in the circle.

Ulmason towered over Daledus, his horned helm dark against the grey sky and his huge, heavily armored body looking like it possessed the strength of a bear. But the stout Dwarf was very wide in the shoulders and his limbs were knotted with muscle. Daledus' battle axe was even bigger than that of the Blood Legion giant. And perhaps most meaningful of all to Daledus-his beard was longer and thicker than Ulmason's beard.

Daledus matched Ulmason's sneer of arrogance with a broad grin that showed just how cocky the young Olrog was. It was clear that Daledus firmly believed he had no chance of losing.

"This is not a duel to the death," Trenton reminded them. "If either warrior submits, his life will be spared. Is that understood?"

Daledus nodded.

Ulmason laughed. "It might be difficult to speak words of submission when one lacks a head atop the neck."

Daledus roared laughter of his own. "True enough!"

Trenton turned to Timlin. "Are you in agreement with Dremlock's rules of fair combat, Timlin?"

"I am," said Timlin. "Let's get on with it."

Trenton held up the Black Flamestone. "We all know what this is. We have identified it, and both Dremlock and the Blood Legion seek to posses it-even though its rightful place is at Dremlock. Rather than bloody the grounds with a war, this duel will settle the dispute-at least temporarily. So let combat begin!"

The Squires glanced at each other anxiously. Galvia had emerged from the tent and stood watching, though she still appeared to be in great pain. Lannon hated duels and would have preferred not to watch, but it would have been dishonorable for him to not be there to show support for Daledus.

The two warriors pressed close to each other-beard to beard, their eyes fierce with bloodlust. They stood locked in a struggle of wills, oversized battle axes ready to clash. They stared each other down, and Daledus stroked his beard to draw attention to the fact that it was broader, while the Knights of Dremlock cheered. But Ulmason wasn't intimidated and only gazed down at the arrogant Dwarf with a glint in his eye that promised death.

Then Daledus balled up his fist and smashed Ulmason in the jaw, knocking his helm half off and sending him reeling backwards. The Knights roared laughter and howled with delight, as Ulmason adjusted his helm and spat blood. The two foes circled each other.

Daledus grinned. "How does your jaw feel?"

Ulmason didn't reply. His one remaining eye was narrowed with focus. As Daledus turned briefly to wink at the crowd, Ulmason lunged forward and swung viciously at his neck. Daledus barely got his axe up in time to deflect the blow, and the cocky grin vanished from his face.

Daledus struck at Ulmason's legs in retaliation, but the Dark Knight easily blocked the blow and swung his fist at the Dwarf's nose. Daledus evaded the punch, and their axes clashed together several more times.

At last, Ulmason threw down his helm and axe and raised his hands, indicating that he wanted to engage Daledus in a test of strength. The Dwarf dropped his own weapon and, looking delighted, locked up with the giant. The two fighters grunted as they grappled. They fell down and engaged in a wrestling match that went on for some time, but neither could manage to get the other in a submission hold. Their muscles bulged beneath their armor and their faces turned crimson from strain.

"Is this a wrestling match or a duel?" Trenton complained.

Some of the Knights and Soldiers jeered, including Jerret, not liking this form of combat.