Chapter 17:
The Defenders of Ollanhar
Three days had passed since the Gauntlet of Axes--three days of Faindan celebrating in the tavern and being praised by his fellow Knights. Now the mood had turned grim, and Faindan was summoned to a meeting in Ollanhar's Courtyard on a bright, sunny afternoon.
As Faindan stood looking about, he realized this could only mean one thing: bloodshed was imminent. Gathered in the clearing was an army of Divine Knights. Furlus was there with forty Red Knights, and Lort Greyshield and his twenty Brown Knights with their spiked shields. Also present were the Nine Axes, and Fadar Stonebow and eight elite archers.
Furlus got right to the point. "The time has come to protect this tower," he said, speaking loudly so everyone could hear. "With the Council of Ollanhar absent, we knew there was a good chance we would be attacked. Our enemies think we're weak without the White Flamestone to protect us. They think they can wrest the tower from our grasp!" Furlus' eyes blazed as he talked.
The crowd watched him silence.
"Even as I speak," Furlus went on, "Tenneth Bard, our ancient enemy, is leading an army of Goblins and Blood Legion warriors in our direction. I am certain he is secretly in league with King Verlamer. This is an attempt to thwart Dremlock's expansion, and they will show us no mercy."
Faindan glanced down at the stump where his hand used to be. So this was a fight to the death. He had survived the Gauntlet of Axes--had even emerged fully intact--but now he was faced with a different kind of gauntlet, one where crazed Goblins and bloodthirsty barbarians would swarm on him and his fellow Knights with the intent of killing them to the last fighter. Any survivors would likely be tortured and executed. And apparently these were all the Knights that Dremlock could spare.
"And there is more grim news," said Furlus. "Tenneth Bard wears the Hand of Tharnin--the gauntlet that caused us so much misery in the past. That means his strength will be greater than ever. Riding at his side is a powerful Legion Knight named Almdrax, who recently returned from the realm of Tharnin. They lead at least one-hundred fighters, including some kind of huge Centipede fitted with armor plating."
"I don't understand," said one of the Brown Knights. "How can we win against the Hand of Tharnin without the White Flamestone?"
"Good question," Furlus grunted. "I'll get to that in a moment, as I reveal our battle plan. Fadar and his archers will shoot from the tower windows. Meanwhile, six Brown Knights will work our siege engine." Furlus motioned toward the large crossbow on wheels. "With the Dragon Claw on our side, we should be able to take out the Centipede before it does too much damage. The Red Knights will hurl burning lances into our enemies' ranks, and then we will close in."
"What about Tenneth Bard?" asked Faindan.
"Leave him to me," said Furlus, "and the Nine Axes. We will attempt to surround the Black Knight and overwhelm him. We will have to move quickly on horseback before he can use the Hand of Tharnin against us."
"Can I ride with you?" asked Faindan. "I am an honorary member of the Nine Axes, after all. I want to go against Tenneth Bard." He spoke courageously, but inside he was afraid.
"Let him ride with us, Furlus," said Valedos Firehelm.
Furlus nodded. "Very well. But it could be a suicide mission considering the foe we will be facing. Still want in?"
"Of course," said Faindan, without hesitation.
"That brings something to mind," said Furlus. "I want to congratulate Faindan for making it through the Gauntlet of Axes. Few Noracks have ever matched that feat. I believe Valedos has something for you, Faindan."
Valedos stepped forward. "I offer you this Glaetherin shield. It is been modified for your missing hand. Give it a try."
The Dwarf handed Faindan a small round shield that gleamed in the sun. Faindan bowed and accepted the gift.
"The shield is actually a gift from Furlus," said Valedos, "but he felt I should be the one to present it to you. Guard it well."
Faindan found the shield to be a comfortable fit. It locked into place securely on his forearm. He couldn't believe his good fortune--ever since losing his hand. How had it all come about? And why?
The Knights raised banners and cheered, vowing to defend Ollanhar to the death. They took their battle positions and waited.
An hour passed, and a lone cloud blocked out the sun, casting a shadow across the courtyard. Moments later a spy rode into the clearing and gave a final report: Tenneth Bard and his army had entered the oak grove. In moments they would reach the clearing and the bloodshed would begin.