Shadow of the Knight (The Orb Book 3) Read online

  Shadow of the Knight

  Matt Heppe

  Published by Matt Heppe

  2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Matt Heppe

  No part of this book may be reproduced

  or transmitted in any form or by any means without

  permission in writing from the publisher.

  Contact:

  [email protected]

  Cover by Dallas Williams

  Map by Steve Sandford

  For my father, Matt

  Reader’s Note

  Shadow of the Knight is the sequel to Eternal Knight and Child of the Knight. I dislike the practice of weaving a synopsis of previous novels into the first few chapters of a subsequent novel. You will have a much-improved reading experience if you read Eternal Knight and Child of the Knight first.

  For those of you who have already read the previous novels, but might have forgotten some of the elements of the story, I’ve included a list of important characters, places, and events that are relevant to Shadow of the Knight.

  All my best,

  Matt

  Important characters and events from

  Child of the Knight

  Akinos: Slain by Hadde at the Battle of King’s Crossing, Akinos held the Orb of Creation for over five hundred years. Akinos’s attempts to prolong his own life and to perfect the human race led to the Wasting. His name is also used as a curse.

  Arno: Hadde’s father. A Landomeri leader.

  Boradin, King: Younger brother to Prince Morin. Wounded at the battle of King’s Crossing and later died under suspicious circumstances. Some accuse his wife, Queen Ilana, of having poisoned him.

  Calen: Hadde’s companion in the pursuit of the mercenaries who took the infants Orlos and Enna.

  Capcaun: Huge, powerful humans modified by Akinos and the Orb of Creation. Their children are the misshapen, brutish urias.

  Cragor: One of Akinos’s bodyguard varcolac, Cragor seized the Orb of Creation after his master’s death at the Battle of King’s Crossing. He escaped to Rigaria where he made himself king.

  Dromost, God of Night: One of the Three Gods. Dromost not only lived in Helna’s world for a time, but also created a world of his own. His name is uttered as a curse.

  Elementar: A person able to manipulate the four elements. There were, for many years, only three known elementars in the world: King Boradin, Prince Morin, and Prince Handrin. More elementars have appeared following the death of Akinos. The ability is only passed through the bloodline of the House of Handrin.

  Empire of Belen: A large empire beyond the East Gate Pass. Centuries ago an earthquake destroyed the only road over the difficult pass. Wars and unrest halted later efforts at restoring the road.

  Enna: Hadde named her daughter Enna to honor her mother, also Enna. The elder Enna is a spiritual leader of the Landomeri. The younger Enna was rescued by Sir Nidon after Hadde’s death and taken into hiding.

  Eternal: Akinos’s crowning achievement in his efforts to perfect the human race. Their lives are entirely sustained by the Orb of Creation. The skin of an eternal appears as liquid silver.

  Forsvar, God of Storms: One of the Three Gods. Also the name of the shield Forsvar gave to his followers before the gods were banished from the world. The Godshield protects its possessor from magical harm.

  Hadde: A huntress from the Landomeri village of Long Meadow. Hadde’s slaying of Akinos ended the Wasting. She was later killed by varcolac serving Queen Ilana. See Lady of the Forest.

  Handrin, Prince: Son of King Boradin and Queen Ilana. An elementar.

  Helna, the Creator: One of the Three Gods. She secretly created the world. When her brothers, Forsvar and Dromost, discovered her creation, they demanded a hand in its workings. Dismayed at the destruction they caused, Helna banished all three gods from the world.

  Ilana, Queen: Rules Salador as regent in Prince Handrin’s place, despite the fact he is well into his twenties.

  Kael: Once a mercenary, Kael took part in the abduction of the infants Enna and Orlos. He later fell in love with, and married, Maret.

  Lady of the Forest: Upon her death, Hadde’s spirit departed her body and became part of the Great Spirit of Landomere. Very few ever see her spirit-form.

  Landomere: One of the Greater Spirits, Landomere nourishes and protects her namesake forest. The massacre of the spiridus five centuries ago gravely weakened her. She was nearly destroyed by the Wasting.

  Maret: Formerly a maiden-in-waiting in Sal-Oras, Maret now lives in the Landomeri city of Belavil. Mother of Orlos and wife of Kael.

  Morin: Older brother to King Boradin, but passed over in succession by their father. Morin was forced to become an eternal knight after being captured by Akinos.

  Nidon: Formerly the Champion of Salador. Nidon rescued Hadde’s infant daughter from Queen Ilana’s men and took her into hiding.

  Orb of Creation: The goddess Helna’s gift to the world, the Orb was meant to heal the world from the damage done by her brothers, the gods Dromost and Forsvar. The Orb was stolen by Akinos and twisted to his own purposes. It is now in the hands of the varcolac King of Rigaria, Cragor.

  Orlos: Maret’s son. He is named after Orlos the Spiridus, who gave his life to save Maret on her deathbed. Orlos the Spiridus transferred his immortal spirit into Maret’s unborn child during her healing.

  Spiridus: A magical spirit-race created by Helna. The entire race, with the exception of Orlos, was massacred by the veden.

  Urias: see capcaun.

  Varcolac: Strong, tough, silver-eyed humans modified by Akinos and the Orb of Creation. They are extremely loyal but prone to berserk rages.

  Veden: A magical, winged race created by Dromost. Destroyed by Handrin the Great in retaliation for the massacre of the spiridus.

  Wasting: Caused by Akinos’s efforts to prolong his own life, and then made much worse by the creation of the eternals, the Wasting saw a dramatic decrease in the fertility of the world. The Wasting would have soon destroyed all life if Hadde had not slain Akinos.

  Prologue

  Cragor stood on the roof of the watchtower high atop the Dragon Pass. The snowcapped peaks of the twin mountains Vedmal and Vortus loomed over him, waiting for summer to end so that they could call forth the winter storms that would close the pass.

  A lake spread out below Cragor—a lake that hadn’t existed a year before and would cease to exist in a few hours. When the dam finally broke, the floods would free his army and change the world.

  Far down the pass stood the Saladoran Wall. Built by the Saladoran Champion Sir Nidon, and improved by the Duke of the East Teren, the wall and its defenders had kept Cragor at bay for years.

  Not much longer. When it breaks, I will fall upon them like a hammer from the mountains. When it breaks… it should have fallen weeks ago.

  He struck the tower parapet with his fist. All his plans delayed because the engineers were incompetent.

  I should kill a few more of them. I should feed them to the unluks. The boar-people would enjoy that.

  Cragor stared down at the dam below him. Why aren’t they ready? What is taking them so long?

  His anger rose, threatening to consume him. Before it could take him, he raised the Orb of Creation and stared into its depths. Here was the peace that let him rule himself—that let him control his varcolac passions. Here also was the power that would let him rule the world. He was heir to Akinos the Great, ruler of Rigaria and lord over the Allfather’s children.

  But unlike the Allfather, I will not be defeated.

  Cragor lowered the Orb and looked up the pass to where his army camped. He saw his brothers, the silver-eyed varcolac, and their gi
ant cousins, the capcaun. There, also, were the misshapen children of the capcaun, the brutish urias. Higher up were the vicious unluks—the stooped, boar-faced half-men. Akinos had not loved them, and it was the cause of his defeat. If Akinos had issued forth with a host of unluks, he would have overwhelmed the Saladorans and taken the world.

  The Allfather was too kind. The unluks just need a strong hand.

  Cragor’s Rigarians camped at the top of the pass. The humans had wisely built a wall of stone to separate themselves from the unluks, who would attack them if given a chance. Cragor wouldn’t let that happen, though. He sent his varcolac and eternals to control them. Men didn’t have the strength.

  Ahh, eternals. How they hate me. How they fear me.

  Cragor turned and glared at the four eternals standing on the tower behind him, their silver skin gleaming in the light of the afternoon sun. He owned twenty of them. So powerful and yet so weak. With just a thought, he could turn their silver skin black and have them bawling like infants on the ground.

  He’d done it. More than once. They hadn’t wanted to serve him. They thought themselves above him. He had taught them a lesson the hard way. He had made them beg.

  Like dogs. I’ve trained them to the leash. No, not the leash. To the lash. I’ve trained them to the lash.

  He laughed at his own cleverness.

  There were more eternals out there. They’d refused his call and now paid the price. Through the Orb he fed them just the barest strength they needed to survive. When he conquered the world, he’d find them. He would find them and enslave them, just as he had all the others.

  Almost all.

  The thought angered him. Ten eternals had cut themselves off from the Orb. He burned at the notion. Rather than serve, they’d slain themselves.

  Fools! Better to be a slave than to be dead. Now he couldn’t punish them. Cragor raised the Orb and stared into it again. Peace. Time to think. Time to plan.

  “The engineer is here,” one of the eternals said. Cragor didn’t know their names—they all looked the same with their silver skin. They knew whom he was speaking to, though. They knew when he wanted one of them. The Orb let them know.

  Cragor turned to the tower stair. The engineer, one of Akinos’s dwelkin, stomped onto the roof. Short and thick—often born with arms or legs of different lengths or bent spines—Akinos had despised these failures, just as he despised the unluks.

  They were nothing like the varcolac and the capcaun. Akinos had loved them. They were the Allfather’s pride. They and the eternals.

  Cragor sneered at the cowering dwelkin.

  The engineer got down on his knees and pressed his forehead against the tower roof. “My king, you asked that I come when all was made ready.”

  “And now?” Cragor asked. “Can we light the fires?”

  “Yes, my king,” the dwelkin said, speaking into the stone. “The tinder is ready and the shorings soaked in oil. The dam will fall.”

  “You built the dam too strongly. The stones are too well-fit. It won’t fall.”

  The dwelkin shook his head. “The dam is strongly built,” he said. “It had to be to hold back so much water. But we built a flaw into it, my king. There is a keystone held in place—”

  “I know what you did!” Cragor roared. “I know what you did!” He turned away from the dwelkin and stared down at the dam. “It had better work,” he said. “If it doesn’t, I’ll feed every last dwelkin to the unluks. Food is short, and they are hungry. I’ll have your kind thrown into their troughs. They delight in flesh.”

  “The dam will break, my king.”

  “And it will destroy the Saladoran Wall? Will I be free to invade the East Teren?”

  “A wall of water forty strides high shall strike their defenses and tear them down. No stone wall could withstand such power.”

  “Go then! Set the fire! Free my army from Rigaria.”

  “Yes, my king.” The dwelkin crawled backwards until he came to the tower stairs and then ran down them.

  Cragor drummed the Orb of Creation against the stone crenellation. With each strike, the Orb flashed with brilliant golden-silver light. At the ninth or tenth blow, the stone split and toppled from the tower. The shards bounced across the lakeside path and then splashed into the water.

  He couldn’t bear waiting any longer. His victory was at hand, delayed only by the incompetence of the disfigured dwelkin.

  Finally, the dwelkin emerged from the tower and ran down the path to the dam. The slow, waddling pace of the dwelkin enraged Cragor. Even at his moment of triumph, he was made to wait.

  Once there, the short man waved his arms to someone out of sight down in the gorge below.

  And then he just stood there.

  “What are you doing?” Cragor shouted. “Why is the dam still standing? Make it fall!”

  The dwelkin turned to Cragor and bowed. “The fire is lit,” he shouted. “The dam will break.”

  Before Cragor could speak again, the dwelkin disappeared into the gorge. Cragor paced the tower roof, glaring at his eternals and then down at the dam. What was happening? Should he send one of the eternals to find out what the delay was?

  And then, finally, the first wisps of smoke appeared. Cragor leaned out over the edge of the tower. This was it! The dam would fall!

  Dozens of dwelkin appeared, streaming up their ladders and scaffolds. They turned and stared down towards the base of the dam.

  Here it was. After years of planning and preparation, the invasion would begin. How he had burned at the advisors who had told him to wait. No more waiting! War would come to Salador.

  Smoke billowed over the dam. Flames now as well. Cragor couldn’t stand the anticipation. “Fall! Fall now!”

  Chapter One

  “Are you afraid?” Telea’s healing master asked her.

  “I’m too excited to be afraid,” she replied with a smile. “Although not too excited to be cold.” She tried to draw herself deeper into her heavy, quilted coat. She’d been almost too warm as they had crossed the highest reaches of the Great Salador Pass. But now, standing and waiting her turn on the plank walkway ahead, she’d grown cold. Fifteen people had already started across, and there were still a few more ahead of her.

  “Ah, to be young and brave.” Master Illanth glanced over the cliff edge. “It must be five thousand paces, and I still cannot see the valley floor.” He pulled his green cloak closer around his spare frame and stepped back from the edge.

  Master Illanth’s wispy beard fluttered in the cold mountain breeze. Like her, he wore a quilted jacket, but atop his head he wore a colorful knit cap. It looked ridiculous on such a distinguished man. Telea wore a fur-lined cap like their guides. She absently reached up and pushed one of her many black braids back under the brim.

  “How can I be afraid, Master Illanth? We’re in Salador,” she said, her voice full of enthusiasm. She waved her hand down the valley. “Out there, somewhere, are the Orb of Creation and Forsvar. This is the land of the spiridus and of Elementar Kings!”

  He gave her a grave look. “Let’s hope you’re right. Our fate rests upon it.”

  “You don’t think they’re real?” Concern tinted her voice.

  He gave her a gentle smile. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe.”

  Bull, Ianwe Illanth’s protector, stepped close. “It’s almost your turn, Master,” he said. Bull dressed like one of their Drinker guides, wearing a fur vest over his mail shirt as well as a fur trimmed steel skullcap. Telea wasn’t used to seeing Bull dressed as a Drinker, even though she knew him to be one. When he had joined Master Illanth, he’d abandoned the traditional garb of the fierce mountain clans and donned the armor and clothing of an Imperial Belenese soldier.

  “Very well,” Ianwe said. “Let’s get on with it.”

  Master Illanth followed Bull onto the pine walkway, both taking a moment to hook their safety lines onto the guard rope. Neither Master Illanth nor his protector showed any sign of fear, although
Bull frequently looked back to check on his ward’s progress. Telea had to laugh as her master shooed Bull forward each time he glanced back.

  The summoner ambassador’s red-robed acolyte stepped onto the pines next. It seemed odd to Telea that he’d accepted a position so far back in the order of precedence. He’d lorded his obnoxious sense of his own self-importance over the party’s servants and apprentices for the several weeks of their journey. Telea had done everything in her power to stay clear of him and had been successful for the most part. She couldn’t help her grin as the pine trunks sagged under his weight, and he paused to look back to the security of the stone road. He glared when he caught her looking at him.

  “I’ll be nervous too, I expect,” Telea said.

  “You won’t be nervous for long,” he said in the guttural accented Belenese of the summoners.

  “Ah…?” Telea started, not quite certain what to say. What did he even mean? She’d get over her fear? Before she could think of a response, he started down the walkway.

  It had been strange being so close to the summoners over the past weeks. The war between the Empire of Belen and the Summoned Lands had lasted for nearly a year. It had been a war without remorse or pity. If anyone had told her just two months ago that’d she’d be in a party with a summoner High Magister, she would have laughed in disbelief. It was unimaginable.