The villagers had all retreated indoors out of fear of the Blood Legion. A small battalion of Legion Soldiers sat on horseback-mostly grim-faced, bearded giants who wore heavy armor and carried battle axes and war hammers. Timlin was given a fine horse to ride and a fur cloak to wear, and he sat tall in the saddle next to Vorden. He was still stunned by the fact that he was now a Legion Master and second in command only to Vorden. The power had been granted too easily and too quickly, and Timlin was overwhelmed by it-unsure how to behave. He didn't know if the Soldiers would accept him so easily as a leader.
"We must ride north quickly," said Vorden, "to Dorok's Hand, our great fortress. Dremlock has sent an army to destroy us."
"What will we do?" said Timlin, imagining a sea of Divine Knights marching ever closer. When you were a foe of Dremlock, the kingdom was terrifying. The Divine Knights seemed to harbor endless secrets.
"Do not fear, my friend," said Vorden. "We will be ready. Destiny is at work in our favor-bringing two former Squires together to lead the Blood Legion to victory. The Legion sorcerers believe it to be so."
"We're relying on fate?" said Timlin, not liking the sound of that.
"Of course not," said Vorden. He smiled at Timlin. "We also have a weapon that will ensure victory."
Timlin's gaze strayed to Vorden's gauntlet. Once again, the blue stones captivated him and eased his mind. "The Hand of Tharnin."
"Better than that, even," said Vorden. "It is a weapon backed by centuries of righteous anger. Can you feel that anger, Timlin?"
Timlin could feel it as he gazed at the blue stones-rage and hatred inside him. The gauntlet seemed to be revealing great truths to him. He realized he was now ready to kill in the name of justice.
"Lannon rides with the army," said Vorden. "He has sworn to kill us both. I tried to reason with him and failed miserably."
"Then we should kill him before he can kill us," said Timlin. His feelings of friendship toward Lannon seemed totally dead. Vorden's Hand of Tharnin was reaching deep into his mind and showing him great truths. Now Lannon was just a threat that deserved all of Timlin's spite.
"That is the plan," said Vorden. "However, I haven't given up on taking him prisoner if the opportunity arises."
"Why?" said Timlin, deeply puzzled.
Vorden said nothing for moment, and he looked conflicted. "Information," he said at last. "He knows secrets that could be useful to us."
"Are you sure you actually want him dead?" said Timlin.
Vorden's face darkened with anger. "Yes, and do not question my motives. You're like a brother to me, Timlin, but you lack faith."
"I'm sorry," said Timlin. "I do have faith in you, Vorden."
"Actually," said Vorden, "if Lannon would agree to join us-which I highly doubt he would ever do, considering his deep love for Dremlock-I would gladly spare his life. Otherwise, rest assured I will kill him."
As they guided their horses along the road that led north from Rogue Haven, the wind picked up, blasting snow into their faces. Vorden put on his helm, but otherwise seemed impervious to the cold. He sat like a metal statue on his horse. Timlin thought that Vorden's armor must be terribly heavy, yet Vorden didn't seem bothered by it in the least. The armor-clearly crafted by the hammers of Grey Dwarves and probably made of stout Glaetherin-moved fluidly as he moved. The gold designs on black seemed very dignified and seemed to suit Vorden's personality.
"It's custom armor," said Vorden, noticing Timlin's scrutiny of it. "I designed the look of it myself. What do you think?"
"It's incredible," said Timlin
"You can have your own custom armor and weapons," said Vorden, "once we get back to Dorok's Hand."
"That would be great," said Timlin. "Except I want something lighter."
Vorden chucked. "Indeed. This armor weighs a ton."
"I'm very curious about something," said Timlin. "How did you become the leader of the Blood Legion so quickly?"
"I was appointed by the previous leader," said Vorden. "But don't ask any questions about him. He favors secrecy."
"Tenneth Bard?" said Timlin, unable to help himself.
"I said don't ask," Vorden muttered.
"How are the Soldiers reacting?" said Timlin. "I mean, do they accept you?"
"They're terrified of me," said Vorden, with a laugh. "This Hand of Tharnin scares the wits out of everyone."
"I'm not afraid of it," said Timlin. "Not when you possess it."
"It's really quite remarkable," said Vorden. "Not long ago I was nobody. Then I put on this gauntlet, and suddenly everyone bows before me. I actually have Lannon to thank for it all-and so do you. He made us important, Timlin. Without Lannon, we would have remained obscure. Sure, we could have become great Knights, but he opened doorways that have led us to this glory."
"It feels very strange," said Timlin. "Two Squires leading an army. I still can't quite believe this is real."
"Former Squires," Vorden said. "And yes, it is strange. But no stranger than Lannon being so prized by Dremlock. In youth, there is hope. We represent the future of the Blood Legion-the future of Silverland itself."
"Can we really do this?" said Timlin. "Can we lead an army?"
"We certainly can," said Vorden. He raised his gauntlet and clenched the metal fingers into a huge first. "As long as I have this, we can. It's all about power, Timlin. Age and experience mean nothing. The oldest, wisest warrior must bow before a greater power. That's why my master gave me control."
"Your master," Timlin echoed. "Will he be my master too?" He realized his heart was pounding in anticipation and dread.
"I don't know," said Vorden. "And it doesn't matter. What matters is that we defeat Dremlock, so we can live in harmony with Tharnin."
One of the Legion Soldiers drew up alongside them on his horse. "Master Vorden, we should set up camp early tonight, unless the blizzard lets up."
"We are in a hurry, Galthak," said Vorden. "We must make the most of daylight. In case you've forgotten, Dremlock is on the move."
"But if we get caught in the storm after dark," said Galthak, "things could be rough. When the snows rage in these lands, it is nothing to fool with." Galthak was a heavily muscled Grey Dwarf-bulky even for a Legion Soldier. His face was split by a hideous scar-a face that looked displeased with Vorden.
Vorden hesitated, then said, "We ride for Dorok's Hand, and we will camp in the evening as usual. Do not question me."
Galthak's face turned crimson with anger, but he bowed. "Your word is law, Master Vorden. We will ride until evening." He drew away from them.
Vorden glanced at Timlin, again raising the Hand of Tharnin. "Because of this, Timlin, even a great Legion warrior like Galthak must obey a young fool like me. Remember that, and never doubt your potential."
Timlin smiled, loving Vorden's attitude. Whatever lessons he'd learned in the dungeon of Rogue Haven seemed forgotten-washed away by the blue glow from Vorden's gauntlet. Timlin was filled with excitement and a rush of power. The only doubts that nagged him stemmed from the fact that Dremlock was closing in on them-the relentless Divine Knights and the so-called god that commanded them. He wondered what Vorden's secret weapon was and if it would be enough.
***
On the Boulder Plains, the blizzard had given way to a light snowfall. However, the snow was already so deep that the road was nearly indistinguishable from the surrounding plains. By afternoon, patches of blue sky broke through the clouds. The riders caught their first glimpse of the Bonefrost Mountains, which looked terribly cold and massive against the distant skyline.