Chapter 12: Squires on Trial
When Lannon awoke, he was lying on a bed in a huge rectangular room. The room was lined with beds, and had much greenery in it, with tall plants in the corners and flowered vines growing on the walls and twined around some of the bedposts. A stone fountain stood at the center of the chamber, with statues of tiny, mythical Fairy Goblins in dancing poses around the water flow. Some of the beds were occupied by wounded Knights, who were being tended to by White Knights. Lannon recognized none of the wounded by name, but he had seen a few of them before.
Standing over Lannon was Vesselin Hopebringer, the ancient Lord of the White Knights. Firelight gave a red tint to his flowing silver hair and beard as he leaned forward with his gnarled hand clutching one of the bedposts. Vesselin smiled. "It is good that you have awakened, Lannon. I was very concerned. Yet it appears that you shall fully recover."
Recent memories flooded Lannon's mind, and he groaned, wondering where he was and how much time had passed. His throat felt as dry as dust, the flesh feeling ready to crack apart. He couldn't feel any pain his shoulder where Clayith's blade had struck, but he couldn't bring himself to probe the injury to see if it was healed. He simply waited for Vesselin to explain things.
"You went through a horrible ordeal, young one," said Vesselin. "I shall try to answer any questions you might have."
Lannon tried to speak, but nothing came out. He pointed to his throat. "I need some water," he managed to croak.
Vesselin called to one of the healers, who brought a mug of water to Lannon. The boy slurped it down, spilling much of it on his chest. When he could manage to talk, he blurted out, "Where are my friends?"
"They're all fine," said Vesselin. "Except for Clayith Ironback, who unfortunately is dead."
Lannon sighed and looked away. Clayith was dead, and Vorden had slain him. Lannon had seen it with his own eyes.
"How long was I asleep?"
"Two nights. But we need not speak of these things right now, if you wish. You can get more rest before we talk."
"Tell me everything. I need to know what happened."
"Very well." Vesselin lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "Clayith Ironback was possessed by the Deep Shadow. He was being controlled by someone unknown to us. He attempted to murder you with a poison dagger. It was a deadly poison, needing only to prick your skin to bring instant death. In fact, the dagger wound was quite shallow, as just the tip managed to pierce your armor. But that's all that was needed. We believe Clayith learned how to concoct this poison after studying one of the books in the East Tower Library--a book which has since been removed. After Clayith attacked you, your friend Vorden Flameblade slew Clayith, which is understandable but very unfortunate, because we might have been able to free his mind and learn who his master was. Yet it is too late to dwell on such things. We must now look to the future."
"How did I survive?" Lannon asked.
"We believe the Divine Essence saved you," said Vesselin. "It cast a healing light upon you that neutralized the poison. Yet you remained unconscious, leading us to fear that too much damage had been done for even the Divine Essence to heal."
"It saved me?" Lannon whispered in awe.
"Yes, it did," said Vesselin. "You know there is something different about you. You know the Knights have special plans for you, that the fate Dremlock may depend upon the Eye of Divinity. The fact that the Divine Essence brought you back from certain death confirms that your gift is of great importance, I believe."
"What happened after that?" said Lannon.
"Two of your friends waited in the Temple with you, while Vorden Flameblade and Jerret Dragonsbane went out seeking help. The boys got lost and nearly froze to death in the woods. Finally they made it to the North Tower and reported what had happened. We expected to find you dead."
Lannon didn't know what to say, and so he stayed silent.
"You Squires brought much trouble upon yourselves," said Vesselin. "The High Council is up in arms. A trial has been set for tomorrow evening, to determine the fate of you and your friends."
Lannon grimaced. "You mean...we could be banished?"
Vesselin nodded sadly. "Unfortunately, yes. This is a very serious matter. Not even the East and West Tower Masters are permitted to see the Divine Essence. Only a Lord Knight is allowed to do so. The Scriptures clearly state that."
Lannon closed his eyes, his thoughts twisting like a whirlpool. How had this all happened? Was it his fault? He thought of Clayith, and to his horror, he realized the lad might have been specifically targeting him.
"Why did he try to kill me?" Lannon asked.
Vesselin's face was grim. "That's a good question, Lannon. Perhaps he was just striking out at someone randomly."
Lannon searched Vesselin's face. "But you don't believe that, do you?"
"No, I do not."
Lannon glanced about nervously. "Then am I in any danger?"
"You will be watched closely from this point on. Always someone will look after you, though you may be unaware of their presence. Yet I would advise using all the knowledge you have learned--your skills as a Blue Squire and the Eye of Divinity. Trust no one fully--not even those who seemingly have earned your trust--and keep your eyes open. Be alert for signs, Lannon. That's the only advice I can give."
His heart racing, Lannon gave a quick nod.
"We made a grave mistake," said Vesselin. "We should have watched you from the start. We felt secure in the knowledge that no Squire can access the truly forbidden areas. We didn't count on you using the Eye of Divinity to solve the wheel locks. Yet there are other reasons you should have been looked after more closely, and I think what happened last night has opened our eyes to that. But as far as the trial goes, the High Council is made up of several stubborn men, who may not take into account your importance to the kingdom when deciding your fate."
Vesselin sighed. "This all should have been handled very differently, right from the moment you first entered Dremlock. We brought this trouble upon ourselves."
Lannon said nothing, knowing Vesselin was wrong. It was Lannon's fault this had occurred, for without use of the Eye, the journey below the Temple would never have taken place--and Clayith might still be alive.
"I must leave you now," said Vesselin. "I'll be back later on to check on your progress. Until then, try to get some rest."
Vesselin left the Hall. Lannon closed his eyes, knowing he could not simply rest as Vesselin had suggested. Far too much was on his mind. But after a while, he did begin to doze a bit, and he knew he was still suffering the after effects of the poison, which felt like hands trying to drag him back down into the blackness.
Lannon heard soft footsteps approaching and snapped awake. Garrin Daggerblood stood before him, a disappointed look on his face.
"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused, Master Garrin," Lannon said. "It won't ever happen again." His words sounded weak and pitiful.
"You should have come to me," said Garrin. "You should have told me you had unlocked the Eye of Divinity. I would have helped you. Now I fear you are beyond my help. I am not part of the High Council, and my words shall go unheeded. I feel betrayed by you, Lannon Sunshield. I expected better of you." With that, the Blue Knight turned and walked away.
"Wait!" Lannon called out, but Garrin left the hall without looking back.
Lannon closed his eyes, almost wishing he had died down there instead of Clayith. Clayith's mind had been possessed by darkness. What was Lannon's excuse? He had knowingly violated the Sacred Laws, and his dreams of being a great Knight were crumbling apart. He sighed, longing for home, for as unhappy his old life had been, it seemed preferable to this in some ways.
From that point on, Lannon lay awake all day long and late into the night, deeply troubled, wishing he had someone to talk to about his anxieties. He avoided thinking of his father, for such thoughts were like daggers of pain in his heart. If Lannon were cast out of Dremlock, what would Doanan think of
him? How could he ever go home and face his father? Also, he felt partially responsible for Clayith's death.
Lannon turned his thoughts towards the Divine Essence, but no help existed there. The Essence, in spite of its great power, was a scared and lonely child, not a god that could answer prayers and change the future. A deep emptiness swelled within Lannon--the realization that things might indeed be hopeless. Dremlock was in grave danger, and it appeared no one could stop it. If the rumors were true, not many Knights were left to defend the kingdom, and Goblins were on the move. He had believed the Divine Essence would give him answers, but instead it had left him feeling that all hope was lost.