Taris smiled. "There is some of that courage I mentioned. Now you're ready to risk everything-because I've made it personal." He leaned a bit closer and whispered, "That is real courage, my young friend. It comes from the heart. I've seen many Knights who seemed to have unyielding honor and courage falter or become corrupted. And I've seen some like you, who doubted whether they had any courage at all, do whatever needed to be done when the time came. Dremlock and the god below it mean little to you at this point. But people mean everything to you, and that is all you need to be a great Knight."
Lannon was grateful for Taris' encouragement. He knew that it was Taris' duty to keep the Squires from losing confidence in themselves, but the sorcerer's words left Lannon sitting a bit taller in the saddle. He found himself anxious to get on with the duel, as he knew Taris was in constant torment. He realized that Taris seemed to know Lannon better than Lannon knew himself at times.
Suddenly, Timlin cried out a warning and pointed at the sky. Lannon gazed upward, using the Eye of Divinity, but even with his power he could see nothing through the rain but grey clouds. Raindrops battered his eyeballs, and the Eye of Divinity faltered. Instinctively, Lannon threw up his arm protectively, wondering what new threat Timlin's keen vision had spotted.
"I see it!" Taris said, shielding his eyes as he stared upward. "A Vulture, I believe-circling high overhead. The rain does not trouble it. Well done, Timlin. You have taken a step toward redeeming yourself."
"Timlin has sharper vision than a Birlote," said Aldreya, moving wet, tangled hair from her eyes. "It's too bad he lacks courage."
Timlin's face reddened, and he seemed about to say something. But then he glanced at Taris and lowered his gaze.
Jerret shook his head. "You know I love you, Aldreya. But that's not a nice thing to say to a fellow Squire."
Aldreya's looked confused. "You love me?"
"As a friend and fellow Squire, of course," said Jerret, winking at her. "But Timlin doesn't need to hear that right now. He just lost his wits back there. It could happen to any of us. I thought about fleeing too."
"Silence, Squires!" Taris commanded.
"Could be just a stray Goblin from the Bloodlands," Jace called back, sounding impatient. "Vultures are not an uncommon sight in this region."
"Perhaps," said Taris, "but my instincts tell me it's a spy." He signaled to the archers, and they fired arrows toward the heavens.
Moments later, a dark shape fell to earth-a Goblin Vulture with a very humanoid head and a mouth that resembled a bloody gash. Lannon shuddered. The creature's black eyes seemed fixed on him, even in death.
"Either way," said Taris," one less Goblin to haunt the land."
But then two more Vultures appeared, diving toward Lannon through the rain. They erupted into bloodcurdling screeches as they descended, their claws stretched out to rip at his flesh. The archers killed one of the beasts, and Timlin shot the other. The Vultures flopped around in the mud before going still.
Lannon turned and waved to Timlin, grateful the little fellow was watching his back. Amongst the Squires, Timlin was the best archer at Dremlock. Lannon realized something wasn't right, however. That had been a weak attempt on his life-too weak to be considered anything but a prelude or a diversion.
And sure enough, seven Jackal Goblins leapt from the fog and charged at Lannon, their long teeth and claws like jagged knife blades. They moved with tremendous speed and agility as they bounded over the earth.
Jace leapt from his horse and tackled one of them, bearing it to the ground. Man and beast rolled around in the mud. Meanwhile, Timlin caught one of the Jackals in the shoulder with an arrow, but the Goblin kept charging. Taris and Vorden rode in front of Lannon to protect him, their weapons drawn.
The archers, unable to get a clear shot, held back with their arrows ready. But Timlin kept firing. He shot another Jackal in the neck, and this time the beast went down in a mass of flailing arms and legs.
Taris hurled green fire from his dagger and burned a Jackal to ash. Another Jackal charged at Vorden but then bounded over him, knocking Lannon from his horse. With the others engaged in battle with the remaining Goblins, and the archers left with no clear shot, Lannon was forced to fend for himself.
The thought of Taris' suffering filled Lannon with anger, and he seized the Jackal with the Eye of Divinity and shoved it off him. He drew his Dragon sword and ran the creature through. Unable to move, the beast was an easy target for a well-trained Squire like Lannon. The Dragon Sword seemed to fly right to the Jackal's heart. Lannon hated killing anything, but as a Squire of Dremlock, it was unavoidable. His life was destined to be one of combat and bloodshed, though he remained determined to avoid killing whenever possible.
Meanwhile, Jace rose from the mud, gripping in one huge hand the Jackal he'd been fighting with. The Jackal was limp in death, and Jace cast it aside-his gaze focused intently on Lannon.
Thrake slew two of the Jackals from horseback-his axe smoldering with crimson fire as he struck. The blade seemed webbed in red and black, pulsating veins. The huge, dark-skinned Red Knight drove into his foes with terrible impact, his axe burning through thick Goblin hide and crushing stout Goblin bone with ease. The mystical fire erupted on contact, throwing up sparks and bits of smoldering hide. Hot coals bounced off Thrake's bald head and some got caught in his bushy black beard, but he casually brushed them away.
Aldreya cast green fire from her dagger onto a Jackal's hide, where it quickly spread. Completely engulfed in flames, the beast ran howling into the fog, leaving a trail of black smoke. Aldreya cried after it in triumph. Lannon knew that she found Jackals particularly revolting.
Taris and Vorden dispatched all but one of the remaining Goblins. Vorden suffered shallow claw wounds to the arm, but overall he displayed the combat skills that made him the top Squire in his age group at Dremlock. He fought like a fully trained Knight, carving up his foe with deadly precision. Taris' sorcerous fire seemed to burn hot with rage, incinerating the Goblins it touched-as if the pain from his wound was causing him to lash out viciously at his foes.
The remaining Jackal got around the two defenders and charged at Lannon, only to stagger and collapse-impaled with three arrows from the archers, who had ridden closer and found an opening. The beast tried to rise again, its muzzle curled into a snarl of rage, but another arrow pierced its eye and finished it off.
With the ambush seemingly ended, they burned the bodies of the Jackals before moving on. Lannon wondered how many more attacks they would have to fend off before they reached Serenlock Castle. Obviously, the demon man had chosen an arena that was far enough from Dremlock that multiple ambushes could take place. With one Knight dead already, it seemed their foes were trying to wear them down. Lannon wondered if the demon man actually intended to have a duel or if he was simply planning a series of attacks and assassination attempts.
The rain held steady as the day wore on. They rode swiftly in spite of the weather and the need to stay alert, and soon they found themselves in the Northern Hills, also known as the Elder Lands. Tall, grassy hills sprawled as far as the eye could see, some displaying crumbling stone ruins. The thick pine forests of the Firepit Mountains had given way to mostly open country, with occasional lone pines or wooded groves here and there.
As they worked their way down the long, steep, muddy slope of a hill, Taris suddenly toppled from his horse. Ordering the company to halt and hold position, Thrake Wolfaxe-the second in command-leapt down from the saddle and knelt by the sorcerer. Thrake tried to lift Taris, but Taris pushed his hands away. The sorcerer's eyes smoldered with anger and frustration.