Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

While the Knights tended to the former hostages, Lannon and Vorden stared each other down. Vorden seemed relaxed and amused, without a hint of doubt in his eyes. Lannon knew one thing for sure-Vorden was certain he would win.

"I've grown stronger since we last fought," said Vorden, "though training and battle. My name inspires terror on the other side."

"I only wish you could face me," Prince Vannas called out. "Though I know you wouldn't dare."

Vorden glanced at him. "Don't be so sure you would win, oh arrogant Birlote. That shiny stone is easy to get free of your hand." Vorden wiggled his iron fingers. "Unlike this gauntlet, which is bound to me forever."

"Yes, you're forever a puppet!" Jerret snarled. "I had you beat in our duel, and you know it. Just be glad it's not me you face."

Vorden yawned. "Nevertheless, you lost. And my combat skills have advanced far beyond anything you can imagine, Jerret, as Lannon will soon learn. I am now the greatest swordsman on Gallamerth."

"Quite a boast," said Shennen. "I'm sure you're very formidable in armed combat. But can you defeat a Dark Watchman?"

Vorden sneered. "I don't see any Dark Watchmen. They're long dead. All I see is boring Lannon Sunshield and his toy Dragon sword."

"You were a fool to return!" growled Furlus.

Vorden ignored the Grey Dwarf and fixed his gaze on Aldreya. "What about you? Nothing to say, Aldreya Snootyhawk?"

Aldreya's face darkened. "If Vorden were here, I would gladly speak to him. But he is dead, and I don't talk to mindless slaves."

Vorden rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Snootyhawk. I'm quite alive and aware of everything. But keep pretending otherwise if you wish."

"Words are meaningless," said Taris. "Let the duel proceed."

"Not just yet," said Vorden. "I want something clarified. This is supposed to be a duel of blades, correct? So that means blades only-no Hand of Tharnin and no Eye of Divinity."

"I'm not fighting without the Eye," said Lannon, though he knew it sounded cowardly. He doubted he could beat Vorden on skill alone. Vorden was immensely talented-and his skills had increased, if his boasts were true.

"Fine by me," said Vorden. "You use the Eye, and I use the Hand. But you would have a better chance leaving sorcery out of it."

"We fight with blades," said Lannon, " and sorcery. Or we don't fight at all-and you can deal with Prince Vannas and his Flamestone."

Vorden glanced at the prince, then nodded. "I agree. To the death, then."

"I will accept your submission," said Lannon.

Vorden shook his head. "I'll never submit to you, Lannon, and I won't accept your submission. I fully intend to kill you."

"Do what you must," said Lannon, drawing his Dragon sword.

Vorden drew his bizarre spider sword that looked like it was adorned with webs-that ancient blade that might have once served the Dark Watchmen. It was a powerful sword, resting in the hands of a powerful swordsman who wielded a gauntlet that gave him the power of a god. For moment, Lannon wondered if he'd lost his mind in accepting this duel. But Shennen had faith in Lannon, and Lannon had developed immense respect for the Lord of the Blue Knights. Shennen had saved Lannon from Thrake's wrath, when no one else-not even Taris-could foresee what was going to happen. And Lannon knew he was the only one who cared enough (or perhaps was foolish enough) to try to save Vorden's life.

Vorden focused his energy into his sword, and the blade grew red hot. "This will cut through your armor like its made of butter, old friend."

"I should hope so," said Lannon. "I only wear leather."

Vorden chuckled. "You're getting a smart mouth-the best quality I've seen out of you so far. Very amusing."

Lannon channeled the Eye of Divinity into his sword, and the Dragon blade quivered with life, welcoming his energy. "This is the end of the Hand of Tharnin. Save yourself the trouble and submit!"

Vorden responded by slashing at Lannon's neck. The move was so swift that Lannon never saw it. However, somehow his blade was there to deflect the blow that would have beheaded him.

Vorden stepped back, his eyebrows raised. Then he drove in again with more incredibly swift strokes, but this time the Eye adapted and slowed Lannon's view of the moves, though he was still limited in how fast he could respond. Seeing things in slow motion made him realize just how close some of Vorden's strokes were to connecting.

His flurry of attacks blocked, Vorden again stepped back, his chest heaving. "Incredible! I can't believe you're still alive!"

"We don't have to do this," said Lannon. "Surrender, and we can get that gauntlet off of you. You could return to life as a Squire. You were the best of all of us, Vorden. You still have a bright future at Dremlock."

"You're lost in a sad dream world," said Vorden. "This is a fight to the death, and my old life means nothing to me."

Vorden drove in again and they crossed blades. Vorden shoved at Lannon, but Lannon resisted and held his ground. Hand and Eye pushed against each other, and neither gave way. The air seemed to warp around them. The heat from Vorden's blade made sweat pour off Lannon, as he couldn't spare much energy on shielding himself. It was so hot that the onlookers had to move back a bit.

Vorden's yellow eyes gleamed with focus, the Will of the Deep Shadow demanding Lannon give way. Vorden was charged with the power of the demon that lurked within his gauntlet, and his face showed an inhuman malice. He was entirely bent on Lannon's destruction.

As Lannon gazed into those demonic eyes, he had to struggle to keep from faltering. The evil and madness radiating from Vorden sickened Lannon to the core and threatened to drain his will. But Lannon's training-and the power of the Eye-helped him resist.

"It is you who should submit," said Vorden. "You have no future at Dremlock. The Kingdom of Bellis will see to that. Thousands of Knights, bearing massive siege engines, will swarm over Dremlock like a wave washing away sand. Your only hope for survival, Lannon, is to swear allegiance to the Deep Shadow-as the Dark Watchmen once did. Take your oath now and I will spare your life."

"I would rather die," said Lannon, remembering the haunted face of Thrake Wolfaxe's ghost. "The Deep Shadow offers no peace."

"Fool!" Vorden bellowed. "I am at peace. Look into my eyes to see the truth. I don't have a care in the world, Lannon. My mind is free of burdens, and I live only to serve myself. I'm not a puppet of Tharnin-I just use the Deep Shadow to grant me power. That's why the Tharnin Lords fear me."

"They fear you because of that gauntlet," said Lannon. "It makes you crazy, Vorden. Yet you can't even see that truth."

Vorden didn't reply. Instead, he tried to communicate his feelings directly to Lannon-allowing the Eye to glimpse the wonders that Vorden held in such high regard. Lannon saw a bleak, frozen domain where power was all that mattered and kindness, charity, and morality were concepts given little weight. But Lannon felt only disgust for Vorden's ideal world, and Vorden simply couldn't understand why Lannon wasn't enthralled with the concept of Tharnin.

"If you actually came back to recruit me," said Lannon, "you were destined to fail. You should realize by now that I'm not Timlin."

Vorden's face turned crimson with rage. "Very well, then witness the fires of purification!" Vorden sent a furious surge of energy into his blade, and it burned even hotter-looking like a tongue of flame. Lannon feared his Dragon sword would be burned through, but the weapon held-perhaps sustained in part by the Eye. Lannon diverted more energy to shielding himself, as a blazing red fireball expanded between them. The fireball suddenly exploded and sent lesser fireballs flying around the chamber, causing Knights and Soldiers to dive for cover. Lannon was blown back several feet, all of his focus on shielding himself from the intense heat and energy, but he stayed standing.