"Then I wish you well," said Vebbeas, doubt in his eyes.
Timlin bowed. "Thank you, Master Vebbeas."
"I'm not your master," said Vebbeas, grimacing. "I bear no responsibility for your fate. Just remember to show great respect when confronting the Legion Council, for a single word taken as an insult could cause a quick sword stroke in response and cost you your foolish head."
***
It was a perfect summer night for the Festival of Fire-warm, yet with a mild, gentle breeze that swept across the courtyard. The grounds were bathed in a crimson glow from Birlote torches, exposing tables that were covered with all manner of delicious foods. The Knights loved to eat, and they spared no expense on meals-especially during celebrations. Most of the kingdom was gathered at the tables, waiting for dinner to begin.
Crestin Lightwielder, magician and entertainer, performed some tricks for the crowd. Crestin was a tall and flamboyant man dressed in a red robe with a large red hat, his broad face, framed by bushy sideburns, always bearing a smile. His eyes twinkled with delight as he mesmerized the crowd. His tricks included hurling some odd fireballs into the air that bounced around between the tables and caused a bit of chaos. After that, Crestin played some haunting Birlote melodies on his flute that would linger on in the dreams of those who listened.
All of the Birlotes in Dremlock who were capable of attending were gathered at a single long table, including Aldreya and Shennen. Noticeably absent was Taris Warhawk, and thus a chair at the head of the table sat empty. The High Council sat at another table next to the Birlotes.
Lannon sat with the remaining members of his Divine Shield, and he drew many stares from the other tables, which he tried and failed to ignore. Yet it was such a warm and pleasant summer evening that he couldn't help but enjoy it, his troubles dulled by the festive mood around him.
"I can't wait to eat!" said Jerret, his eyes fixed on the food. It had been a long wait since lunch, during which all the kitchens of Dremlock had been off limits while the feast was being prepared.
"I couldn't agree more," said Jace. His giant hands rested near a basket of fruit from which he'd been sneaking strawberries. A thick, ancient-looking book sat on the table in front of him. He popped a fat strawberry in his mouth and washed it down with some wine, before leafing through the book.
"What are you reading?" said Lannon, who noticed drawings of huge and grotesque Goblins on the pages. Even as he asked, he thought he was better off not knowing. He'd wanted simply to relax and celebrate this night and forget all of his troubles. Yet his curiosity betrayed him.
"A book on the beasts of Tharnin," said Jace. "I am beginning to suspect that the gauntlet may possess the power to control certain creatures that might otherwise be uncontrollable. If so, we could be in for a nasty surprise when we journey north. I believe our foes are hiding some great secret that they feel will give them an edge-and I don't mean the Hand of Tharnin itself. While the gauntlet is a formidable weapon, it still rests on the arm of one man. I feel there is a greater threat."
"Are you saying Vorden could summon some huge beasts?" said Jerret, "and command them to fight? I find that hard to believe. Using a weapon is one thing, but power like that seems impossible."
"Yet he controlled you, Jerret," said Jace, winking at the lad.
Jerret winced visibly, his red reddening. "He didn't control me, Jace. I allowed him to control me because I thought he needed my help. That's way different. Besides, I'd rather not be reminded of that incident."
"I agree," said Lannon. "I can't imagine Vorden standing there commanding some giant monster to do his bidding. It just doesn't seem possible."
"There are many things in this world," said Jace, "that you young Squires would never believe possible unless you saw them for yourself. The power to control one of the great beasts of Tharnin is not an impossibility. It is unlikely, yes. But the gauntlet is very powerful-an extraordinary item that took more than a century to craft. Who knows what amazing abilities it possesses?"
"So are you suggesting that Vorden could summon an army of beasts?" said Lannon, "and just stand back while they attack us?"
"Maybe one or two beasts," said Jace, "at the most. But some of the creatures of Tharnin are so powerful that a single one of them could slay a legion of Divine Knights. Typically, such creatures are wild and serve no one, but I'm beginning to think the true purpose for the Hand of Tharnin is to command at least one of the great beasts. If so, we are facing a very dire threat indeed."
Lannon sighed, almost wishing he hadn't asked what Jace was reading. But now he needed to know more on the topic. "Could one of those beasts be sent against Dremlock? Could it bring down the kingdom?"
"Dremlock is extremely well defended," said Jace. "It is likely our foes will wait for us to come north and catch us in the open. Once our battalion is eliminated, Dremlock will be left in a weakened state. Then the attack on the kingdom will come from all sides. Legion Soldiers and Goblins will overrun the kingdom, taking the towers one by one. Once the kingdom is occupied, they will then seek to destroy the heart of Dremlock-the Divine Essence itself."
Lannon shuddered. "Then it would be foolish to go north. Yet Taris said we had to go and fight for the kingdom."
"I disagree with Taris," said Jace. "We should let our foes come to us. If we go north, we're probably falling into a dastardly trap. Tenneth Bard spared your life in the mines. He knew Vorden wouldn't kill you. He obviously wants a battle to take place in the Bonefrost Mountains, and he knew if you were alive, the Knights would feel bold enough to go north. That's a guess on my part, of course, because plans are always changing and the ways of Tharnin are difficult to comprehend, but it seems logical enough."
"Then we're not actually going north?" said Jerret. He looked strangely disappointed.
"The High Council will decide, as always," said Thrake. He muttered something about being hungry, grabbed a chunk of beef, and stuffed it in his mouth. He washed it down quickly with some water and wiped his beard, looking a bit sheepish.
"The High Council might listen to you, Lannon," said Jace. "You should try to convince them that a journey north would not be in Dremlock's best interests. This will be a very critical decision for the kingdom."
Lannon didn't reply. He wanted the conversation to end so he could try to enjoy the evening. Jace was wise, but he seemed to have serious lapses in judgment now and then. Taris, on the other hand, was almost always right about everything. And if they didn't ride north and confront Vorden, Taris had no chance of survival. Lannon cringed at the thought of putting the fate of the kingdom at risk for one man, but he couldn't accept the notion of Taris dying either. He had no idea what to do, and he just wanted to forget the dilemma for one night.
Cordus Landsaver stood up and raised his arms. "The Festival of Fire has begun!" The crowd cheered. "Everyone is aware of the hardships faced by our kingdom, but tonight we shall focus only on celebration. We shall celebrate the Birlotes-the Tree Dwellers-and their great contribution to Dremlock. Without the help of the Birlotes, Dremlock might not have survived and prospered. And make no mistake-we are surviving and prospering. Before we begin the feast, Crestin Lightwielder will play one more song called The Ghosts of Borenthia.
Crestin bowed. Then he played an exceptionally haunting melody on the flute, music that seemed to make time and space disappear. Lannon closed his eyes and could envision the great Tree City where it was warm year round, a city constantly expanding as the Birlote population expanded-an ancient forest merged with bridges, huts, and even a giant wooden palace. The trees lived in harmony with the Birlotes and provided for their needs, and the Birlotes cared for the trees in return. The forest and the Tree Dwellers had merged into a single living entity that could not be easily breached by outsiders. The leaves and pine needles shielded the treetop hideouts from prying eyes, where green arrows waited unseen for any evil that walked where it didn't belong. Lannon imagined all the warm nights high above ground, the tables laden with food and the gemstone torches blazing-and he longed to dwell in that land, in the quiet shade beneath the thick forest roof where his troubles could easily be forgotten. He knew that Taris must long for it even more deeply-Taris, who lay suffering constantly in a stone building far from home, his courage unwavering. And then Lannon knew he would have to go north in spite of Jace's warning, because the courage of the Birlotes deserved that much.