Robert Keller - The Hand of Tharnin

Lannon glanced at the crossbow, wondering what it would feel like to be pierced by the arrow. "I'd rather not find out," he admitted.

"I could shoot you and be done with you," said the solider. "Maybe I should, before you get your strength back. A sorcerer like you is really too dangerous to be left alive-in spite of what my master thinks. Tell me, Lannon Sunshield, are you planning to kill me and try to escape?"

Lannon shook his head. "Not at all. I'm just cold and hungry. I'm hoping someone will untie me so I can warm myself."

"My name is Dalvin, by the way," said the Soldier. "I am a Legion Master-which means I am now your master. You will address me with respect."

"Can you untie me, Master Dalvin?" Lannon asked politely.

"I'm still deciding whether or not to just kill you," Dalvin said. "Until I've worked out that issue, don't worry about anything else."

Lannon studied Dalvin in the lantern light, amazed at how rugged and scarred the Soldier was. It seemed Dalvin had been through a thousand battles with the Knights of Dremlock. Lannon probed him with the Eye of Divinity and glimpsed a defiant, unyielding spirit that guarded many deep fears-fears for his family, his homeland, and the future of the Blood Legion. Yet there was an even deeper fear lurking within him-the fear of those who fought alongside him who were corrupted by the Deep Shadow. Dalvin feared and hated Tharnin, but he viewed it as a necessary evil. Lannon also saw that Dalvin was likely to blindly cling to his beliefs if only to validate the cause he'd fought so hard for.

Dalvin gave Lannon a sly, knowing look. "I sense you're probing my secrets, lad. Well, you should be careful believing everything you see. I could be putting false information in your mind."

Lannon saw right through Dalvin's words. He watched as the Legion Master tried to shore up his will and shield himself from the Eye. Dalvin had no clue how deeply Lannon could peer into him. He was afraid of Lannon and was in fact considering killing the Squire. Lannon wondered how he could ease his fears.

"I don't care about your secrets," Lannon lied. "But I think you're afraid of me, and you shouldn't be. My hands are pretty much ruined from the cold. All I really want right now is to try to save them."

"You can't fool me," said Dalvin. "I know you're a dangerous one."

Yet Dalvin relaxed a bit, and so Lannon let the Eye of Divinity retreat inside him and resorted to a Knightly healing technique that involved meditation and focus. But with his hands still exposed, and the interior of the tent very cold, he wasn't sure he would make any progress.

Dalvin finally let his guard down some and lit a pipe. He produced a pouch of jerky and chewed some, then offered some to Lannon.

"My hands are tied," Lannon reminded him, sighing.

"And why does that concern you?" said Dalvin. "I know that rope can't hold you. But I want to see for myself. Break the rope."

Lannon hesitated, wondering if Dalvin was simply looking for an excuse to put an arrow through his heart. He again searched Dalvin's intent with the Eye, but this time Lannon had trouble sensing his mood for whatever reason. Finally, knowing he had to take a chance if he wanted to save his hands, Lannon seized the rope with the Eye of Divinity and pulled it apart. He brought his bruised, trembling hands in front of him to show Dalvin, then thrust them into his pockets.

The Legion Master nodded. "You broke stout rope with ease. You could kill me here and now, crossbow or not. Am I right? Don't lie to me."

Lannon shrugged. "I don't know, but I don't plan to try." Sensing Dalvin's agitation, he added, "And if I did, then what? I couldn't kill everyone in the camp, and if I tried to escape, your Soldiers would just finish me off. I don't want to kill anyone. I just want to rest, heal, and eat some food."

"I'm under orders to bring you to Dorok's Hand alive if possible," said Dalvin. "I'm sure you guessed that. However, my master knows you're dangerous and so I have permission to kill you if need be-at my discretion. So if you try anything foolish at all…"

"Your master is Tenneth Bard?" asked Lannon.

"Do not speak that name again!" Dalvin growled, raising the crossbow.

"I'm sorry," said Lannon. "I didn't mean to offend."

Dalvin lowered his weapon. "You know who my master is. You're the one who led him to this fate."

"Vorden?" said Lannon. "He now leads the Blood Legion?" Lannon wasn't surprised, but he wondered what had become of Tenneth Bard.

"That's right, lad," Dalvin sneered. "And if you're wondering-do I think a mere boy should command the Legion? Of course not. But he does command it, and I am sworn to obey. Vorden wants you taken to Dorok's Hand alive. Not sure what grim plans he has for you, but I wouldn't want to be in your situation. Well, you brought it on yourself."

"What did I do to deserve this?" said Lannon, suddenly gripped by anger. "That Hand of Tharnin device took control of him and turned him into a puppet of the Deep Shadow. I had nothing to do with it!"

Dalvin smiled. "You live under a pathetic illusion, Lannon. You were Dremlock's most prized servant. Vorden was a friend of yours. Have you ever considered the fact that you may be cursed? No, you've probably believed you were blessed by the Divine Essence. How arrogant and misguided. Maybe you should begin to consider the notion that you're a catalyst for doom to those around you."

Dalvin's words stung Lannon, and he pondered whether or not there was truth in them. Both Vorden and Timlin-his two closest friends-were now corrupted. Maybe he was cursed, bringing suffering and evil to those closest to him.

"I think you're a bad fit for Dremlock," Dalvin went on. "You could change your fate and fortune by joining your friend-if that is what he seeks from you. The Blood Legion would benefit greatly from a sorcerer of your talents."

Lannon started to protest, but then he considered the fact that he was better off playing along. It wasn't Lannon's nature to be dishonest, even when his life was threatened, but many lives were at stake besides his own. "I admit I am tired of the way things are at Dremlock," he said. "I was there less than a year, yet the Knights sent me blindly into danger repeatedly."

"They don't care about you, really," Dalvin pressed on, pity in his gaze. "You're just a tool to be used until you break. Then you will be discarded and replaced. The Legion doesn't treat its Soldiers that way. Here, you would be valued and respected. And you can help us crush the army of Knights at our fortress gates."

Lannon's anger returned. "I doubt you're going to win."

"Oh, we will win," said Dalvin, grinning. "Let's just say we have an edge the likes of which Dremlock can never prepare for."

Lannon probed Dalvin with the Eye, trying to learn what that "edge" might be. But it appeared the Legion Master didn't know, in spite of his excitement. He was simply repeating what he'd been told.

Dalvin gave Lannon a water flask and some jerky. "When you're done eating, try to get some sleep, for we ride at daybreak. Meanwhile, just think about what I said-how you would be a good fit for the Legion and how you would be loved and respected by your fellow Soldiers-your brothers. Does Dremlock ever speak of brotherly love? I was once a Knight-Dalvin Skyaxe. I know how the Knights treat each other-with great respect, but never like true brothers. Dremlock is cold hearted compared to the Legion."

"The Knights care about each other," said Lannon. "They honor those who get promoted and hold extravagant funerals for the dead."

"It's not the same," said Dalvin. "The Knights don't even speak of love for the god they so blindly serve! Loyalty and honor, yes, but it ends there. The Knights are not brothers-not the way Legion Soldiers are. To serve Dremlock and its shattered god is a cold, lonely existence."