Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

"My lord," said Ulmason, who rode next to Timlin, "you've been staring at that gem for quite some time. You look lost in thought."

Timlin's hand closed around the Flamestone protectively, and he thrust it into a pocket of his cloak. "Just marveling at its…appearance."

"Perhaps you shouldn't get too attached to it," said Ulmason. "You may not be the one who is best suited to wield it. Perhaps you should give it to one of the priests, as they are immune to its charms. Remember, it was a priest who was beginning to unlock its secrets-who opened the portal to Tharnin."

"Sure," said Timlin, rolling his eyes, "and look how well that turned out. The fool thought he could control a Specter."

"Nevertheless," said Ulmason, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn't hear, "it seems the Goblin Lords are best suited to possess it."

"Maybe," said Timlin, deeply annoyed at Ulmason's words, "but I will guard it for now. Who better than me to keep it safe?"

Ulmason bowed, but his mouth was set in a frown.

"They will destroy Blombalk," said Timlin, in an effort to change the subject. He was certain Dremlock would use the White Flamestone to burn it down. "I think that's the last we've seen of our great fortress."

"Perhaps they hope to occupy it," said Ulmason.

"No," said Timlin, "Blombalk is doomed. Dremlock is all too eager to burn everything to ash these days. The power of the White Flamestone has made the Divine Knights arrogant and aggressive."

"Will it be any different for us," said Ulmason, "if we learn the secrets of the Heart of Kings? Will anything be left standing?"

Timlin shrugged, his fingers tightening around the gem in his cloak. "All I want is for Dremlock to fall. Beyond that, I don't care what happens."

"But what of the Deep Shadow?" said Ulmason.

"I serve," said Timlin, "but I'm not a slave. I control my destiny."

Ulmason smiled. "Are you sure, my lord?"

Timlin wasn't so sure, but he didn't answer. He could feel the crushing grasp of the Deep Shadow, squeezing his heart and seeking to guide his destiny. The Voice of Tharnin was already whispering to him, warning him to surrender the Black Flamestone to the Goblin Lords. But Timlin refused. The Flamestone seemed to give him power to resist the will of the Deep Shadow. He didn't reveal this to anyone, but the Black Flamestone had already bonded to him and disrupted the hold that Tharnin had on his soul. Suddenly, Timlin was filled with doubts about everything-including his war against Dremlock. He almost wanted to run away with the Black Flamestone, to be free of all these petty distractions and struggles for power.

The threat of Bellis and its insane leader was also on Timlin's mind. King Verlamer Kessing was held in high regard by Tharnin-meaning that Timlin was expected to bow before him at some point. Tharnin might even demand Timlin hand over the Black Flamestone to him. Right now the Blood Legion was supposed to be under Timlin's command, but Timlin knew that when orders from Bellis arrived, he was required to obey without question. The growing shadow of Bellis was yet another gloomy issue nagging at Timlin's mind and making him want to escape from his burdens into isolation with his dark prize.

The other two Legion Council Members who rode with them-Hoytus Shadowblood and Rulain Knightslayer-had been conferring with the two Goblin Lords. Now the Dwarven brothers rode up alongside Timlin and Ulmason. They made no effort to hide the fact that they didn't want Timlin as their leader, but Timlin wasn't concerned. Fear of the Deep Shadow-and the possibility of Vorden's return-kept them in obedience.

"We have decided," said Hoytus, "that the Black Flamestone should be given into the care of our Goblin priests, so they can begin training to unlock its power. What say you, Timlin?"

"I say no," Timlin replied. "At least, not until we arrive at Old Hammer Hall. Then we will hold another meeting to decide the issue."

"You're defying the will of Tharnin," said Rulain. "No good can come of that. The rest of the Legion Council can remove you from power with a vote. I hate to suggest that, but it is always an option."

Timlin glowered at the Grey Dwarf. "Do what you must when we get back to our fortress-but on this journey you have no vote."

"The priests believe it is unsafe for you to possess the stone," said Hoytus. "They believe only a trained sorcerer can resist its power, that you could be consumed by it. Would you ignore their wisdom and risk your very soul?"

"The wisdom of Goblins?" said Timlin, with a laugh.

"You speak like a Divine Knight," said Rulain, with a look of disgust, "in showing your contempt for Goblins. Tharnin priests have wisdom beyond that of mortals. They were chosen to be our guides. We need to respect that."

"We'll discuss it at Old Hammer Hall," said Timlin, wanting only to get the others to leave him be. He didn't want to listen to their advice or complaints when his thoughts could be focused on the Black Flamestone.

"We will vote on it!" snarled Hoytus, and the two brothers moved away from Timlin, their faces crimson with anger.

Timlin's hand lingered in his cloak pocket-clutching the warm gem. He realized he never wanted to surrender the Black Flamestone and that inevitably his desires would clash with the demands of the Legion. He wondered if he would be forced to flee with his prize. If so, he was fully prepared to do just that. Previously, he would never have given up his position as the Legion Commander. But times had changed, and he'd come to understand there were more important things in life than leading an army or battling Dremlock-things like the flawless, beautiful Flamestone that kept calling to him in a voice stronger even than the voice of Tharnin.

It didn't take long for Prince Vannas to bring down Blombalk Fortress. Once the white fire found its way into the logs, it spread quickly everywhere and soon turned the entire fortress into a massive, blazing fireball. Huge logs crashed to the ground as walls and buildings collapsed.

Meanwhile, Dremlock's warriors rode for Dorok's Hand through the melting snow. They were a dejected group, the loss of the Black Flamestone weighing heavily on their hearts. However, thanks to the healing arts of the White Knights, Taris Warhawk and Flund Greenhelm seemed to be recovering from their brutal injuries and were awake and alert in wagon sleds-though Taris remained groggy and disoriented. The Tower Master was able to speak, and some of his memories had returned-yet he had no recollection of clashing with the Specter.

When it was nearing evening of the second day of travel, they were met with Elder Hawks from Dorok's Hand bearing grim news. The Blood Legion had launched an attack on Dorok's Hand in their absence and had used some type of toxic smoke to flood the fortress, driving out Dremlock's Knights. Bearing cloth masks soaked in chemicals to protect themselves from the smoke, a number of Legion Soldiers had fought their way into Dorok's Hand. They had kept the entrance tunnels flooded with the foul vapor while they worked on opening the portal to Tharnin and freeing their leader. For two days they had held off Dremlock's forces and at last freed Vorden from the realm of the Deep Shadow. They had taken several Knights hostage during the skirmish and were threatening to kill them if Dremlock tried to take back the fortress.

"The Hand of Tharnin has returned," Trenton announced. He sat on his horse on a hillside, looking down upon Dremlock's forces. "The good news is that it remains trapped in Dorok's Hand with only a small company of Legion Soldiers. Furlus has chosen to wait for us to return before making a move, which is a wise decision. Our goal is first and foremost to save the hostages."

Lannon wasn't surprised, but he found himself disappointed with the news. No good would likely come of Vorden's return. More death and destruction would surely result. The other Squires looked disappointed as well-with the exception of Jerret, who still harbored anger toward Vorden over the time Vorden had temporarily enslaved Jerret's mind. Jerret had tried to put the incident behind him, but he remained scarred inside from it.