Robert Keller - The Heart of Shadows

With a howl, Vorden leapt through the air at Lannon. The two warriors collided in a flurry of sword strokes-with Lannon again mostly defending Vorden's attacks. Vorden was expending massive amounts of energy trying to break through Lannon's defenses, and Lannon was growing weary of having to block blows that would have shredded steel. Battling Vorden seemed to bring out the best in Lannon, but Lannon wasn't sure how much longer he could sustain it. The Hand of Tharnin seemed to harbor endless power, but Lannon was growing exhausted. He knew he had to go on the attack and make something happen.

Finally Vorden paused, panting. He thrust his arms out and grinned. "This is a great battle, old friend, to make me have to catch my breath. But-"

Lannon threw everything into a single attack-summoning all the remaining power of the Eye and forcing it into his blade. The Dragon sword responded by lashing out in a move so swift it caught Vorden by surprise. The bone blade cut through Vorden's arm just below the shoulder-the arm that was bound by the Hand of Tharnin. The heavy gauntlet, which was still wrapped around the hilt of the spider sword, clattered to the floor, the severed arm protruding from it.

Vorden gazed down at the fallen gauntlet, dumbfounded. "You…you cut off my arm. You wretched coward!"

Vorden reached toward the gauntlet with his remaining arm, but Lannon leapt forward and kicked him in the chest. Vorden fell on his back, blood pooling around his shoulder. "You worthless sneak!" he cried, his eyes wide.

Lannon stood over Vorden, his sword poised for a killing blow. "This duel is over, Vorden. Do you submit?"

"I expected better of you!" Vorden snarled. "Is that how you win a duel? By taking a limb?"

Lannon shrugged. "It did the job."

"A cowardly attack!" Almdrax cried. The huge Dark Knight raised his axe. "The duel is unfair!"

"The move was legal," Taris said. "Honor is preserved."

"Legal or not," said Almdrax, "only a coward severs limbs to win a duel."

The Legion Soldiers muttered in agreement.

Lannon nodded. "I accept the label of a coward, if it means saving a life." He positioned the sword above Vorden's heart. "I ask again-do you submit?"

"Kill me!" Vorden growled.

Lannon hesitated, then nodded. As much as he hated the thought of killing his former friend, he couldn't afford to lose the duel and allow the Hand of Tharnin to remain with the Blood Legion. If Vorden refused to yield, death was the only alternative. Lannon raised the sword, shutting out his disgust over what he was forced to do. It simply had to be done.

But Vorden saw the focus in Lannon's eyes and knew Lannon meant business. "Wait!" he cried, raising his hand. "Spare me, old friend. I don't want to die here like this. Yes, I am the loser of the duel. I yield!"

With a sigh of relief, Lannon lowered his blade.

Cries of rage and despair arose from the Blood Legion. They cursed Vorden for being a coward, but they were forced to throw down their weapons and surrender. Almdrax was the last to give up, but finally he dropped his axe and bowed his head, his expression concealed-as always-beneath his horned helm.

Vorden closed his eyes, either unconscious or unwilling to communicate. A healer set to work on his arm.

Lannon knew that simply removing the Hand of Tharnin from Vorden did not mean his former friend would return to normal. Vorden had a rough road ahead of him. However, one grave threat to Dremlock had been dealt with, and for a moment at least, the Knights and Squires could savor victory.

Jace started toward the fallen gauntlet, but Lannon motioned him back. "I think I should do this myself." Lannon had once watched in horror as the Hand of Tharnin had attached itself to Vorden, and he had no intention of standing by and watching someone else fall victim to the device.

"Yes, let Lannon unlock it," said Taris.

"Why unlock it at all?" said Trenton. "It's not worth the risk."

"I have to save Vorden's arm," said Lannon, shrugging.

But before Lannon could even set to work on the complicated lock, the Hand of Tharnin was drawn to Lannon's power, and it strongly desired to bind itself to him. The four latches opened on their own and the device came unlocked in a burst of steam. Before the gauntlet could make a move, Lannon froze it with his power. He removed Vorden's severed arm and stepped back, motioning to Prince Vannas.

"Destroy it," Lannon said.

"I wouldn't advise that," said Jace. "Too dangerous. I suggest we lock it away somewhere and study it."

"Study it?" said Taris. "Like we studied the Dragon Bones? I think I'm quite weary of studying objects infested with the Deep Shadow."

"I am opposed to studying it," said Shennen, bowing his head. "I don't want a repeat of what happened to Thrake."

"This is different," said Jace. "To destroy the Hand of Tharnin could result in a malicious demon being released in our presence. And to bury it would be folly, for it will last forever and someone would eventually find it. Place it in Dremlock's most secure vault, until we can find a way to safely destroy it. If nothing else, it should be taken out onto the ocean and sank into the deep."

Taris looked displeased, but he nodded. "If you believe it is more dangerous to destroy it than lock it in a vault, I will take your word for it. You're the expert on magical relics and that's why we hired you."

Jace bowed. "I'm just giving my opinion based on my research. The choice is yours, Tower Master."

"We will eventually sink it into the ocean," said Taris, "where it can rest at the cold, dark bottom forever, where humans cannot go."

" Where humans cannot go," mused Jace. "Well, at least not yet."

A day had passed since the duel.

Lannon, the other Squires, and Shennen gathered by Vorden's bedside. Shennen stood apart from the others with his head bowed, content to let the Squires do the talking, and was simply there as a guard. Vorden was chained to a bed in the Chamber of Healing, and he was awake and alert. His arm had been successfully reattached and he looked healthy enough, though his eyes maintained a yellow tint that indicated he was still infested with the Deep Shadow. He wore a white robe-typical of patients in a healing area-that contrasted his dark hair and evil expression.

Lannon gazed down at his former friend, looking for some hint of change now that the Hand of Tharnin no longer controlled Vorden's destiny-but if any change had occurred it wasn't apparent. Jerret, who'd only come because the other Squires had insisted, bore an expression of disgust.

"So you fools have come to bother me," Vorden said, with a grimace. "Are you here to gloat over your victory in the duel, Lannon?"

"No," said Lannon. "We just came to see how you are doing. I'm glad your sword arm is restored. You'll need it when you get back to living as a Squire." Lannon was merely trying to project a positive attitude and was not convinced Vorden would ever serve Dremlock again.

"Living as a Squire?" Vorden laughed. "Don't be silly, Lannon. Aside from the fact that I despise Dremlock to the core of my soul, your kingdom's days are numbered. All along you thought Tenneth Bard was such a grave threat, but he was just a distraction. The real threat was Bellis."

Shennen raised his head. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"I don't talk to Birlotes," said Vorden.

"Then tell me," said Lannon. "What was Tenneth Bard planning?"

Vorden sneered. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe to a slave like you," said Jerret. "I'm sure Tenneth Bard whispered his plans into your ear many times over. You were his most prized servant, after all-forced to obey his every command."

Vorden grinned. "Like I once whispered in your ear, Jerret? When I enslaved your mind and forced you to come to me?"