Then a new light sprang into Melran's eyes-a light of power that further separated Knights from Squires. Now charged with sorcery, Melran drove Jerret back and knocked his legs out from under him. Jerret started to rise, and Melran raised the stick for a downward swing, his face contorted with rage.
"Enough!" Furlus muttered. "Jerret fought well."
Melran bowed to Furlus and helped Jerret to his feet. Even though he'd lost, Jerret had a broad grin on his face. "Get a bit more than you bargained for, Melran? I'm guessing you weren't expecting that, right?"
Melran nodded and managed a smile. "You've done well with your training, Jerret. You'll make a fine Knight."
They clasped hands.
"It was a good duel," said Furlus, "but that's enough for tonight. Melran gets the ale. But, Jerret, you should be proud of yourself."
Jerret nodded and wiped sweat from his face. "Thank you, Master Furlus. I just wanted to test myself. I knew I was going to lose."
Furlus' face darkened. He pointed at Jerret. "Don't ever assume you will lose, Squire, no matter what foe you face." He took a huge swig of ale and half of it ran down his beard. He cursed.
Jerret bowed. "I'll bear that in mind, Master Furlus."
"You fought well, Jerret," said Aldreya.
"Yes, nicely done," said Lannon.
"I'm impressed by your skill, Jerret," said Vannas. "However, I'm still convinced I would have defeated you."
Jerret nodded. "Maybe so, Prince Vannas. But you're not the one I want to defeat." His eyes seemed distant. "The one I must defeat…"
"What do you mean?" said Lannon, suddenly feeling chilled.
But Jerret didn't reply.
Loud snoring reached their ears from Jace. The giant, cloaked man had been sound asleep through the duel, and his ale flask had tipped over.
***
Later that evening, when the Knights seemed to be sleeping and only the Squires remained awake by the fire, Vannas took the White Flamestone from its black pouch and held it up. The radiant glow engulfed the campsite, causing people to stir, and he quickly cupped his hands around it to diminish the light. "The key to our victory," he said, his green eyes shining with their own fire.
"Be careful, Prince Vannas," said Lannon, glancing about nervously. "Perhaps you should keep it concealed."
Vannas glared at him, his devilish Birlote features making his handsome face look sinister. "Don't be jealous of this magnificent gift, my friend. And I assure you that no foe can remove this from my hand. It is almost…a part of me now. It's something you cannot understand."
"I'm not jealous," Lannon mumbled, his face growing red. "I'm just being cautious."
"I think my cousin knows his business," said Aldreya. "I'm guessing he has been trained extensively in the use of the Flamestone."
"I have," said Vannas, his voice full of pride. "I know this device like you know your sword, Lannon. And it knows me."
"Overconfidence is a wretched weakness," said Jerret, poking a stick at the fire and sending up sparks. "It can consume you."
Vannas' eyes widened. "I find that rather insulting, Jerret. I am a Prince of Borenthia, yet you dare accuse me of overconfidence?"
"You're just a Squire at Dremlock," said Jerret, "unless I'm mistaken. A very important one, yes, but still a Squire."
"Don't be a fool," said Vannas, rising to his feet with a menacing look on his face. He put the White Flamestone away and balled up his fist. "You are still required to respect me as royalty. You fought well earlier, but now you make a fool of yourself, Jerret Dragonsbane."
"Vannas is correct," said Aldreya. "You're being quite rude, Jerret. My cousin was called upon by the Divine Essence for a great purpose."
"Sure," said Jerret, sneering, "and Birlotes know all about rudeness. Every word that comes out of a Birlote's mouth is rude."
"Taris, who might die soon, is a Birlote," said Lannon, hoping to shame Jerret into silence. "And Taris has always been kind to you, Jerret."
"I feel bad about Taris," said Jerret, looking a bit sheepish. "I'm just saying that we shouldn't be overconfident. And I have a destiny too, by the way-one I take very seriously. I'm not a prince, and the Divine Essence didn't bless me with any great gift, but I have a purpose on this journey nonetheless."
They fell silent for a moment. Vannas' anger seemed to diminish at Jerret's words. He extended his hand. "I can respect your belief in your destiny, Jerret, whatever it may be. I offer you my hand and ask only for respect in return."
Aldreya nodded to Jerret, her face tense. "The prince offers his hand. I strongly suggest you accept it."
"Let's just try to get along," said Lannon, wishing they weren't acting like fools when so much was at stake. "We're all part of this Divine Shield or what have you. We need to be friends."
Sighing, Jerret rose and accepted the handshake. "Okay, I've got your back…Prince Vannas."
"And I have yours, Jerret Dragonsbane," Vannas said, smiling.
"Good," said Lannon. "Now maybe we can get some sleep."
But a lean shadow suddenly appeared next to Jerret. It was Shennen, and he squatted down, his hand on Jerret's shoulder. "I'm glad you accepted the prince's gesture of friendship," he said in a low voice. "Well done, Squire."
"Thank you, Master Shennen," said Jerret, looking nervous.
"But…I am concerned with you," said Shennen. "You seem to have a habit of insulting Birlotes because you cannot understand our ways. I realize you're just a young man and that young people act like fools. However, you go too far with it. Yes, I am greatly concerned with you…"
Jerret started to protest, but Shennen clamped a hand over his mouth. "Don't talk, Jerret. Just listen very carefully."
Trembling, Jerret nodded.
"I'm getting rather weary," Shennen went on, whispering in Jerret's ear, "of these insults. Don't think I don't overhear things even when a door is closed, or that people don't report things to me that they hear. I know you frequently speak ill of my race. I realize you're part of the Divine Shield, and by Dremlock law, that makes you important. But I'm going to step beyond my rank a bit and warn you that you had better watch what you say about Birlotes henceforth-because I might be listening from the shadows. Is that clearly understood?"
Again, Jerret nodded, his face tense.
Shennen slipped back into the shadows. The Squires glanced at each other in relief, except for Aldreya, who seemed delighted by what had happened. She smiled at Jerret, who looked away in humiliation.
***
Over the next couple of days, the weather turned wretched. They were nearing the Northern Bloodlands, where bad weather was common, but it was also fall and deep into the rainy season. Cold rain poured down until the entire army was soaking wet and miserable. But they kept riding at a stout pace.
When they glimpsed the Mother Trees of the Bloodlands in the distance, it was nearing evening and still raining hard. Everyone was tired of riding, and some of the Knights had taken ill. They erected tents in a field and camped.
The tents were fairly large, and all of the Squires were able to fit inside one of them. Aldreya was permitted to sleep in the same tent as the boys, as space was limited and they wanted the Squires to remain together. They lit a lantern and sat on their blankets, listening to the rain beat down on the roof.
"What a wretched day it has been," said Jerret. "Wet clothes. Wet blanket. My pack was supposed to keep out the rain, but it didn't. How are we supposed to dry out when we can't even build a fire?"
Aldreya smiled as she wrung out her hair. "Aren't you supposed to be a Squire of Dremlock, Jerret? You should never be without fire." She channeled her sorcery into her dagger and made it burn, then slowly ran it over her clothes. "This will take some time, but it should do the task."