Jerret wondered where Vorden and Lannon were-and if Lannon was dead or had been enslaved by the Deep Shadow. He knew Aldreya was wondering the same thing. He couldn't imagine what horrible fate Lannon had come to beyond those huge gates, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to know.
Jerret made eye contact with Timlin, and Timlin's lips parted in a slight smile-as if he were amused Jerret had made the journey.
"So you're a pawn of Tharnin now," said Furlus. "Congratulations, Timlin. How does it feel to know you threw away an honorable career at Dremlock for a life of slavery and evil? Such a waste of a talented Squire."
"It feels rather good," said Timlin, smiling. "I never fit in at Dremlock and always had to pretend to be something I wasn't. Now I'm free to be who I truly am-with all of my faults. No one questions me here." He chuckled. "They wouldn't dare, or they might catch an arrow through the eye."
"We want you to surrender, Timlin," said Aldreya. "You don't have to do this. Dremlock doesn't want a war. If you surrender, you can begin to make a new life for yourself-away from all of this evil."
"That's right," Jerret mumbled. "We don't want a war." Actually, Jerret did want a war. He wanted to test out his sword skills on Goblins or Legion Soldiers-whoever got in his way. And above all he wanted to test his skills on Vorden. He was certain the Deep Shadow was in his heart-but only traces of it, filling him with a desire for combat and revenge. It had turned Jerret a bit savage. He knew it, yet he told no one and did nothing to change it. He liked who he'd become-with his newfound motivations, skill, and sense of destiny.
"Well, I do want a war," said Timlin. He grinned, his eyes showing an evil glitter in the torchlight. "And what I want, my men had better want. They're not allowed to think for themselves."
Furlus sneered. "So you're free to be a bully here-something you could never be at Dremlock. But you can't even begin to imagine what you've given up and the depths to which you've fallen. When you finally do realize it, it will come as a great shock to you. I pity you, Timlin."
Timlin shrugged. "Pity? Who cares? And you're wrong. I already suffered greatly thinking of what I lost by betraying Dremlock. It gnawed at me constantly. However, now I just don't care. I have power, and power cures every ill. Whenever something troubles me now, I just take it out on someone else."
Furlus nodded. "As I said, you're a bully."
"No," said Timlin, "what I am is the Blue Knight of the Blood Legion-second in command to the Black Knight. Are you second in command, Furlus? No, you're third on the list. A distant third, in fact, if you consider reputation. You'll never be second in command as long as Taris is alive."
"Enough of this silly talk," said Furlus. "You speak as if this is all some childish game. But the reality is that we are facing war, and many lives are at stake. Now are you going to surrender, or shall we get on with storming the gates? And you must know by now that those gates will come down, and when they do, and the Divine Knights flood Dorok's Hand, death will come quickly and decisively. Nothing will stop this army-not Vorden and his Hand of Tharnin, not even Lannon if you've done something to twist his mind."
Timlin hesitated, glancing back at his army, then said, "Vorden doesn't want bloodshed, for some reason that I can't fathom. He wants peace. The rest of the High Council agrees with him-probably because they're afraid not to. Personally, I would prefer we go to war, but my master's word is law. Therefore, I will agree to surrender Dorok's Hand-with some conditions, of course. Will you agree to hear my conditions? If not, then we might as well start the battle right now."
"I will hear the conditions," said Furlus.
"The Blood Legion is very proud," Timlin went on. "We do not take surrender lightly. The Soldiers would prefer not to have to throw down their arms in front of Dremlock's army. Rather, we wish to retreat into the keep, where we will remove our weapons and armor in private. Then we will emerge from the gates unarmed and surrender. You will have possession of Dorok's Hand."
"And you'll do it as soon as we're finished with this discussion?" said Furlus, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I'm tired of waiting. The gates will be opened and the Soldiers will retreat prior to surrendering? And what if it's a trick?"
"What sort of trick would it be?" said Timlin. "To retreat inside and leave the gates open and unguarded? That would be folly."
Furlus sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. Then he said, "What other conditions are there?"
"That the Legion Masters be granted their freedom," said Timlin.
"I refuse that condition," said Furlus, scowling. "The Legion Masters will return to Dremlock to face trial for their crimes."
"Then I simply ask for leniency on us," said Timlin, "due to the fact that we willingly agree to surrender with no bloodshed. Is that fair?"
Furlus considered it, then nodded. "I suppose that's a fair request. But once the gates are open, your Soldiers will have one hour to remove their weapons and armor and prepare for surrender. After that, my army will enter the fortress. If it turns out this is some form of deception, it will go very badly for you."
"You've made a wise choice, Timlin," said Aldreya, smiling. "This decision will preserve many lives."
Jerret said nothing, not liking this turn of events at all.
"Then go now!" Furlus ordered. "You have one hour."
With a nod-and a malicious grin directed at Jerret-Timlin wheeled his horse about and galloped back to his Soldiers. As Dremlock's army sat watching, the Legion Soldiers began to pull the gates open-a sea of torches parting as men tugged on the huge ropes.
"I can hardly believe it," said Furlus. "They actually plan to surrender. This is not typical of the Blood Legion at all."
"It must be a trap," said Jerret. "Maybe we should attack."
"It's not Dremlock's way, Squire," said Furlus, shrugging. "We are bound by the Sacred Laws to allow them a chance to surrender."
Yet when the gates were barely open, they suddenly shuddered and burst apart as a massive bulk slammed through them. The gates were struck with such force from within the keep that they sent men tumbling through the snow-some severely wounded-as they were shoved open. For a moment, revealed by torchlight, a huge, horned head and scaly body was visible, framed in the tunnel mouth.
Cries of shock and dismay arose from both Dremlock's army and the Blood Legion, as the Dragon soared out into open air. It rose up into the sky for a moment, its long, serpent-like body outlined against the stars, and then it descended on the men by the gates. The Dragon's stingers ripped into the Soldiers and several of them went limp-killed instantly by deadly poison. The beast hovered for a moment, the corpses still hanging from the stingers below its body.
Then the Legion Soldiers started to flee through the gates into the keep. Those on the platforms had to climb down rope ladders and risk the Dragon's wrath. Meanwhile, Goblins poured from the smaller cave mouths along the mountain wall, charging toward the Divine Knights.
Furlus was finally able to gather his wits, and he howled at the Red Knights, "Bring Vannas to me and surround us. Throw your lances at the Dragon!" His eyes blazing, he raised his huge battle axe.
Aldreya's stone dagger burst into flames, and Jerret drew his sword. The two Squires exchanged a horrified glance.