The white wolves held back, however, since their teeth were ineffective against the trees. They paced around in the narrow tunnel, growling-perhaps wondering what had become of their master Trenton.
The three Grey Dwarves were seemingly tireless, and bit by bit, they fought their way to where the company was entangled and chopped them free. Though weary, Jace, Shennen, Thrake, and Willan were not seriously injured and still had strength left for battle. Once free, they joined the Dwarves in attacking the trees. Jace seized writhing roots and tore them in two with his bare hands, black blood pouring out onto the cavern floor and making it slippery.
They beat back the trees, but could find no sign of Lannon and the others. They shouted to them as they fought, but hearing no response, at last they were forced to retreat back into the tunnel from which they had first emerged.
They leaned against the stone walls, gasping for breath and feeling fortunate to have survived the snare. None of them-not even the Dark Knights-had ever encountered such a powerful nest of Mother Trees, and they were shaken from the experience. They wondered how many other such nests existed below Dremlock, spawning legions of Goblins into the huge maze of tunnels that was the kingdom's greatest weakness.
"We've failed Lannon!" Shennen said. "The trees must have devoured Trenton and the Squires. The Divine Shield has broken."
"Not likely," said Jace. "Don't forget the noises we heard-the wolf growls. I suspect they are all still alive and in the tunnels somewhere."
"Of course!" said Shennen, his eyes lighting up. "That must have been Trenton. Then we might not have failed after all. But what now?"
Jace shrugged and wiped sweat and dirt from his face "You're the Knight, Shennen. That's up to you to decide."
"We have to search for them," said Thrake. "There seems to be no existing map of this area of the mines, but other maps might show us a way to bypass that foul cavern. Or we could return with a larger company of Knights and fight our way through. I like the latter idea."
Shennen took Willan aside and the two Blue Knights whispered to each other-words too quiet for the others to hear. At last Shennen turned to the others and said: "For now, we must return to the surface. Willan will remain below and attempt to use stealth to find them."
"I don't like that idea," said Jace. "It's too dangerous down here for any lone Knight to be sneaking around."
"I agree," said Thrake. "It would be folly."
"I have made my decision," said Shennen, "and Willan agrees with it. Lannon is too valuable to Dremlock not to attempt a search."
"We can regroup and search later," said Jace.
Willan bowed his head. "No, my master has requested that I search now. When the trees have settled down, I will try to sneak through the cavern. I have sworn an oath to protect Lannon, and I will fulfill it."
Thrake patted Willan on the shoulder. "I wish you good fortune, my friend. And if I knew the art of stealth, I would be glad to go with you."
"Willan has extraordinary stealth," said Shennen. "I am convinced he will find Lannon and return him to Dremlock."
Jace sighed. "We've rested long enough. Let's move on."
They started off down the tunnel, leaving Willan standing silently in the shadows, his sword gleaming faintly in the dark.
It was the last they ever saw of him.
Chapter 11: Trial by Sword
While Lannon and the others were navigating the mines below Dremlock, to the south in the City of Silvergate, Timlin Woodmaster sat in a tavern in an area of town where theft and murder were normal business affairs. He'd wandered in with some copper coins he'd stolen-enough to buy him a mug of milk but not enough to earn him a meal. As he sat sipping his drink, his stomach was gnawed by hunger. To the left of him, a drunken woman was slumped over the bar. On his right, a muscular, bearded man was drinking ale and trying to get Timlin's attention with a grin that Timlin was trying to ignore.
After leaving Dremlock, Timlin had found nothing but misery. The people in the lands near the kingdom had ignored him, and he'd ended up wandering around stealing food and sneaking into barns to sleep. He'd finally found a merchant willing to give him a ride on a wagon to Silvergate.
During his time at Dremlock, Timlin had forgotten what it was like to be poor and not have his needs tended to. He'd fantasized about striding out of Dremlock and joining the Blood Legion, but he'd ended up in an endless struggle just to find his next meal. It left him with little time for anything else. He suspected the Blood Legion could be found in a major city like Silvergate-but Divine Knights could also be found there, patrolling the city. Some were spies of Dremlock. Fearing they would recognize him, Timlin hid in dark alleys and crept around mostly at night.
Timlin was beginning to grow weary and to believe that betraying Dremlock had been a mistake. His life at the kingdom had been much easier and far more exciting. He'd been a privileged Squire, riding with fully trained Knights into adventure. Now he was just a ragged thief looking for a bit of food. He still hated Dremlock and its Knights as deeply as ever, but there were many things he missed as well.
But now, as he sat there with his stomach feeling painfully empty, he wondered if he was a huge fool for not simply living as a Divine Knight. He kept thinking of the large, delicious meals that Dremlock offered to its servants, of the excellent training and glorious adventures.
"Is that milk fresh, little fellow?" asked the bearded man next to him. "Brelth is my name. I'm a fisherman." He extended his hand.
Timlin ignored the hand. "The milk is fine. Do you know where I can find the Blood Legion?"
Brelth laughed. "I said I fish for living. I'm not a killer. I do like a good brawl now and then, though. What about you?"
"I'm hungry," said Timlin.
The barkeep sat a platter of fried fish in front of Brelth. He chuckled and laid into it. "Sorry to hear that, little fellow," he said, his mouth full of fish. "Life is hard. You ever worked on a fishing boat? I need a skinny man who can move fast and is tireless, for the simple job of killing Storm Eels. You have to be good with a dagger and slice them right in the nets, without cutting the nets! It's very dangerous work. Men die all the time who miss the cut and get stung for their troubles. A sting from a Storm Eel is like getting struck by a lightning bolt. This is a job for someone with a steady hand and a lot of skill."
"I can use a dagger," said Timlin. "But I'm looking for the Blood Legion, as I said. That's the only work I want."
"There is a lot of work around here for thieves and assassins," said Brelth. "But with your small build, you don't look like much of a fighter. You're likely to be ignored. And the Blood Legion? I doubt they would even glance your way. I'm offering you an honest job with good pay. Fish by day, drink ale at night. What more could a man ask for in life?"
Timlin kept glancing at the fried fish. "I don't want to be a thief or an assassin. I want to be a Legion Soldier."
Brelth grinned slyly. "I can see you really want some food-more than anything right now, I'll bet. I'll make you a deal. Come to work on my boat killing eels, and I'll order you your own platter of fish. And another ale along with it."
Timlin considered it. He did need work, at least until he could meet with the Blood Legion, and the job sounded mildly exciting. And he felt like he was starving. "I guess I'll accept that offer. When do I start?"