Knights: Immortals of Ollanhar

By Robert E. Keller

As the Divine Knights head out to sea, strange terrors await them. The quest for the Green Flamestone is nearing its end, but all is not as it appears to be. The evil wizard Vorhevia plots against them with inhuman intelligence, and the Deep Shadow is at its strongest, sending forth creatures they could never have imagined.
Meanwhile, Lannon Sunshield must confront his inner darkness before it destroys his companions and the hopes of Dremlock Kingdom. The true nature of Lannon's struggle to avoid the fate of his predecessors is at last revealed--along with a horrific secret that will change the Dark Watchman forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert E. Keller
• Release date: May 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463676578

Robert E. Keller

Robert E. Keller was born in Northern Michigan in 1972. He had a very active imagination fromthe time he was old enough to become self aware, and he would invent elaborate fantasy andscience fiction stories in his mind.Robert published his first work of short fiction, Spirit Wolves, in the fall of 2008. After that hewent on to publish more than 30 stories in various online and print magazines. Meanwhile, he was hard at work on epic fantasy novels, and he released his first novel for sale, Knights: The Eye of Divinity in June of 2011.Robert lives with his wife Tracy in Northern Michigan.

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Knights: Immortals of Ollanhar

by Robert E. Keller

Book 4 of the Ollanhar Series

Smart Goblin Publishing 2020

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Original and exclusive cover art by Carolina Mylius

Copyright © 2020 Robert E. Keller

Content Notice:

A complete 90,000 word fantasy novel.

About the Author:

Robert E. Keller is a fantasy writer who has had more than 30 stories published in online and print magazines, and he is the author of several epic fantasy novels. You can find more information on his projects at www.robertekeller.net

Chapter 1:

The Searing Hand of Destiny

Lannon's battalion was being stalked by unseen foes. This was an extraordinary fact, considering it was extremely difficult for anyone to hide from the Eye of Divinity. Yet one of Lannon's Birlote warriors had been assassinated with a blowgun's poison dart while on guard duty. He had died instantly, not even managing to cry out, the dart embedded deep in his throat.

They were passing through wild lands between cities where anything could happen--where travelers often vanished without a trace. The magnificence of Werldock City was a few days behind them now, leaving long stretches of uninhabited jungle and grassland. They were riding fast for the coast where they could secure a ship and head out to sea. The weather was clear and sunny, but excessively hot. It was difficult to stay alert in the heat, with sweat burning their eyes and their thoughts focused on ways to cool off.

Aldreya's battalion was a few hours ahead of Lannon's. After a fair amount of discussion, both battalions had been modified. Prince Vannas had gone to Aldreya's side, while Vorden had joined Lannon. It made sense to have the Eye of Divinity in one battalion and the White Flamestone in the other. Bellis and the Deep Shadow now had great reason to fear a confrontation with either group.

But there were those nagging, invisible foes.

The poison dart had revealed the truth--that it was the leader of the Blue Vultures who stalked them. The dart was similar to the one that had nearly killed Lannon in the cave. This barbarian lord was clever and elusive. Lannon had vowed to kill him, but he couldn't kill what he couldn't find. Somehow the barbarian lord left no trail for the Eye to follow. It was as if he had no aura--or perhaps his aura was being concealed by the power of Tharnin. Lannon wondered if the Deep Shadow had taken the maniacal killer under its wing and was using him as a tool.

But Lannon had other problems. Vorden went missing while on a quest to find fresh water, and Lannon was forced to search the jungle for him, taking Brakthas and Lothrin along. The Eye of Divinity revealed Vorden's path--a path that led deep into the tangled rainforest toward some unknown destination.

It was an unfortunate delay, and Lannon was anxious to locate his old friend and get moving again for the coast. He was hoping Vorden had merely strayed too far and gotten lost, but he had a dark feeling about the whole thing.

Brakthas paused beneath a tall fern, his grim face partially hidden by the foliage. This makes no sense, Lannon. Why would Vorden stray so far from camp? I would expect such a move from Prince Vannas, but this is unusual for Vorden. He's always lurking close by.

Brakthas' long black hair was framed by drooping vines and by his feathered earrings, while one of his tattooed, muscular arms was wrapped around the fern. He seemed to be hanging there in exhaustion, supported by the jungle plants, his bronze skin streaked with sweat. Brakthas' weariness surprised Lannon, for the stout warrior usually seemed to possess endless energy. With the Eye of Divinity to sustain him, Lannon could not relate to the physical pain and exhaustion those around him endured just from constant traveling. Brakthas was not even a Divine Knight. He could not heal himself with meditation and replenish his energy. When he was in pain or suffering from an illness, he simply endured it and pushed on, and Lannon admired his courage and discipline.

Brakthas was clearly exhausted, but far from defeated. His calloused hand was locked around his bone-handled dagger, ready for any nasty surprises the rain forest might hold, and his fierce eyes revealed that his spirit had not dimmed. Lannon always worried that his warriors would tire of their hardships and abandon him, but Brakthas seemed ready to trudge forward into the darkest places of the world and take his chances. For a hired mercenary, he was extremely loyal.

I have come to know Vorden's ways, said Brakthas. He is always so careful and loyal, for he is concerned that others will judge him because of his connection to the Deep Shadow. He always does what is expected. If he failed to find fresh water, he would have returned before we grew concerned.

"This is strange, Lannon admitted. And the timing is terrible." He feared for the others in his battalion, knowing he couldn't protect them all--that sometimes it seemed he could barely protect himself. How many of them would fall to poison darts without Lannon there to watch over them?

A thousand curses on that barbarian lord, muttered Lothrin. I wish we would have killed him the first time we encountered him. His reign of terror has gone on far too long. After we find Vorden, we must hunt him down.

We will, Lannon promised. "Or at least I will."

Lothrin looked slightly amused. And what will you do? Take him prisoner? He is too dangerous for that.

Lannon shook his head. I don't intend to take him prisoner. I intend to kill him. He is too evil and tricky to be spared.

Are you sure? asked Lothrin, leaning against a huge, twisted tree to take a rest. A centipede crawled on his arm and he flicked it away. The lean Birlote Ranger with the leaf-shaped birthmark on his cheek looked as exhausted as Brakthas--but mentally rather than physically. His green eyes shone with a light of wisdom beyond his age. That's a new attitude for you, Lannon. You're not a killer.

I will do what must be done, said Lannon. I have no doubt about it--the leader of the Blue Vultures has to die. And any warriors who remain with him must also die. They must be stopped before they can torment and murder anyone else. Lannon's hand knotted into a fist. The Eye showed me just how evil these barbarians are, some of the terrible acts they have committed.

Brakthas nodded. There comes a time when blood must be shed. When honor demands it.

Easier said than done, said Lothrin. For Lannon, at least.

Yet it will be done, Lannon insisted.

And what if he surrenders? asked Lothrin. Will you execute a prisoner? The Birlote gazed at Lannon with concern.

I can't take him prisoner, said Lannon. I don't have the time or resources. Our quest is too important to be delayed by such things, and for someone like him, it isn't worth it. There will be no surrender.

So if he kneels, said Lothrin, pressing the issue, and begs for mercy, what exactly will you do then? He smoothed back his silver hair, a smug look on his face. Lannon wasn't fond of that expression.

And the question annoyed Lannon as well. He found it obnoxious. Sometimes Lothrin liked to provoke him, to challenge him. Enough. I meant what I said. He will not be taken prisoner under any circumstances. You know exactly what that means. It means I will run him through with my sword and kill him. So what point are you trying to make?

Lothrin shrugged. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his plain brown tunic and leaned against a tree, a grim shadow setting over his face. Much of Lothrin's mental weariness came from endless concern for those around him--in particular for his cousin Prince Vannas. You're a Dark Watchman, Lannon. It's my business to know your state of mind--to make sure you're on the right path.

Lannon's annoyance grew. I'm doing fine, Lothrin. I'm not turning evil. And truthfully, I'm growing weary of people worrying about that. The only evil you should be concerned with is the barbarian lord, for his evil is limitless. Not even children are safe from his murderous ways.

Calm yourself, said Lothrin. I meant no disrespect. And I happen to agree with you. Trust me--if I see that wretched freak, I will put an arrow in his heart before he has a chance to surrender.

To make his point, Lothrin unslung his bow and readied an arrow, moving so fast it seemed impossible.

Show off, muttered Brakthas, grinning.

Good, said Lannon. If you see him, by all means shoot him. You don't need my permission to assassinate that devil.

We're all in agreement, then, said Brakthas. So what are we arguing about? Let's find Vorden and then hunt down that wretch. Besides, a man like that barbarian will never surrender anyway. He knows only bloodshed, and he will fight to the death. Evil is his destiny, and he will be difficult to kill. His spirit is strong, like a demon, and he is cunning.

Perhaps he killed Vorden, said Lothrin.

Lannon harbored the same thought, but he felt he had to show confidence to his warriors. I doubt it. Vorden is a powerful Knight, and his sorcery is probably equal to Jace's. It would take a lot to finish him.

Not really, said Lothrin, frowning. Think about it, Lannon. Even the most powerful sorcerer can die if they lose their head. Vorden's neck isn't made of iron.

Brakthas bowed his head, looking troubled.

Lannon didn't answer, but Lothrin's words compelled him to stop resting and start moving again. Let's just find him.

It was a slow and tiresome journey through the thick tangle of vines and underbrush. The weather was cloudy and humid, and sweat dripped from them as they fought their way onward beneath the sprawling treetops. The noises of insects and animals had become tiresome, especially the bird sounds all around them, and the Knights were also weary of the constant threat of snakes. Dangerous predators--large cats and lumbering beasts the Knights were unfamiliar with--came uncomfortably close to them, concealed by the tangle. Mud sucked at their boots, and insects swarmed them. They bore many welts from bug bites.

Eventually, the Eye of Divinity revealed something new to Lannon. He pointed at the muddy earth. Vorden encountered others here...a small group. He went with them, probably as a prisoner.

Bellis, or the Blue Vultures? asked Lothrin.

Lannon shrugged. I can't tell. The aura is hard to read--very faint.

Concealed by sorcery? asked Lothrin.

I don't know, said Lannon. It could be that, or it could just be a weak aura. Sometimes they're hard to read. Perhaps because of the weather, or the landscape, or any number of other factors.

Brakthas knelt and studied the ground. I see signs of a struggle. Vorden fought them, but they overcame him. No sign of blood, though. He closed his eyes. I sense dark sorcery--very bad stuff.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Lannon tried again to interpret the aura. But he didn't sense any evil sorcery. Are you sure?

Brakthas nodded. "All warriors of the Varros Clan can sense dark sorcery. It is a skill that protects us from shamans who cast spells against us. When I was growing up, we were always threatened by evil magic. The shamans could disguise themselves as anything and sneak into our village. We lived in constant fear of them. But we learned to feel the truth of things. That's how we survived."

I'll take your word for it, said Lannon. He tried to imagine a childhood like that, but he couldn't. It was just too strange to him.

This is baffling, said Lothrin. How could a Knight as powerful as Vorden get captured by a small group? It seems impossible.

Lannon nodded. It's very strange. It has to be the dark sorcery. They must have had a wizard with them or a Goblin Priest.

Even then, said Lothrin, it wouldn't be easy. Vorden would be a match for all but the most powerful wizards. We must be dealing with a mighty foe.

We are, said Brakthas, his face grim. I can sense it. This man is a bringer of doom and a changer of destiny. Where he walks, all is disrupted.

"He's a what and a what?" asked Lannon, struggling to make sense of Brakthas' words.

A bringer of doom, said Brakthas. A shaman who kills many, but who is never seen doing the killing. Doom follows him like a shadow. He changes the destinies of those he encounters with his curses. This is...very bad. He could change your destiny, Lannon. You should avoid him.

That's impressive, said Lannon. You can sense all that? Anyway, I'm not worried about it. I've faced tough foes before, Brakthas. And we have to rescue Vorden. Or are you saying we should turn back?

No, we must save Vorden, said Brakthas, for his fate would be too terrible to even speak of. But let Lothrin and I go alone. You should return to camp, Lannon. Send Jace instead. He knows about sorcery.

I'm not going back, said Lannon. My destiny will be fine.

Fear not, Brakthas, said Lothrin. Our High Watchman can see through any wizard's tricks. He will not falter."

Brakthas looked unconvinced, but he nodded. All I'm saying is there is a danger here for someone like Lannon. I know the ways of an evil shaman, more so than either of you. But perhaps you're right. Lannon's ways are not known to me, so who am I to judge him? I gave my warning. Now I will be silent.

I respect your opinion, Brakthas, said Lannon. And I will bear it in mind and be very careful.

Brakthas nodded, but still looked grim.

I'm not convinced Vorden was captured, said Lothrin. He may have fought, but that doesn't mean he didn't go willingly. Vorden is a strange man--unpredictable. I mean that as no insult, but it is true.

Lannon nodded. The Hand of Tharnin changed him in ways we'll never understand. But he's still one of the most honorable Knights I have ever known. Vorden would never betray us.

I wasn't suggesting that, said Lothrin. He may have had some other reason for abandoning us--something we cannot yet comprehend.

It doesn't matter, said Brakthas. He could have fallen to the shaman's tricks. Either way, he is a prisoner.

All I know, said Lannon, is that I'm weary of chasing after people into forests. I had enough of that with Prince Vannas.

As Lannon pulled some vines apart, Brakthas slew a long green snake with his dagger that was poised to strike at the Dark Watchman.

Thank you, said Lannon. I almost grabbed hold of it, thinking it was a green vine. I need to stay more alert.

Lothrin studied the dead snake. Extremely poisonous.

I must eat my kill, said Brakthas, who quickly skinned and gutted the snake while the others looked on in disgust. Brakthas wrapped the snake meat in cloth and put it in his pack. Don't look so horrified. It is proper to eat what you kill--even if it's a snake that must become the meal. Besides, snake meat tastes great.

Have you ever eaten a jungle snake? asked Lothrin. How do you know it's safe?

All snake meat is safe, said Brakthas. Serpents are a blessing to our world, sent by the Great Light to make us alert. If not for the snake, our eyes would become lazy when we look upon our surroundings. The snake also reminds us to walk upright in life and not crawl on our bellies in the filth.

You're making an assumption, said Lothrin, disdainfully.

So you are an unbeliever, said Brakthas, sneering.

I wasn't talking about the religious aspect, said Lothrin. "I was talking about the safety of all snake meat. You're in a strange land infested with creatures you know nothing about. So how can you be so confident?"

Snake meat will never harm me, said Brakthas, shrugging.

Your logic baffles me, said Lothrin.

It is not logic, said Brakthas. "It is faith."

Lothrin frowned and turned away. Unable to comprehend the apparent insanity of Noracks, he wanted no further part of the conversation.

I won't be eating any of that, said Lannon. It's all yours, Brakthas. This land is indeed strange. I feel...disconnected from it. That was an understatement. Lannon found the jungle unnerving, and the heat was a constant torment. The noises of insects and animals seemed to wear away his sanity.

Lothrin gazed at Lannon in amusement. I would expect as much from someone who grew up in northern lands. This is home to me. All I see is endless beauty and freedom. And the heat is invigorating.

Invigorating? Lannon said, wiping sweat from his brow. It seems to drain all of my energy. Even the Eye seems dulled by it.

They paused to drink from a wide river with muddy banks. Monkeys watched them from tree branches that stretched out over the water. Some climbed down vines to drink. The jungle was full of life and movement, almost like a living entity itself--as if all of it was deeply connected like a single massive body.

The water seems safe enough, said Lannon. It isn't harming those furry Goblins. Kind of dirty, though.

Those aren't Goblins, said Lothrin, with a laugh. They are the little people of the forest--much more friendly than Goblins.

On instinct, Lannon glanced above him. A grey monkey was clinging to a branch overhead, quietly watching. The animal had taken a great interest in Lannon's fancy Dragon-bone sword. It intended to steal it from the sheath at the first opportunity.

Beware of that one, said Lothrin, smiling. His kind are very bold. At Borenthia they live right in the city, and are somewhat of a nuisance.

Lannon seized his sword hilt protectively. Don't even think about it! he warned the monkey. Lannon was deeply bonded to the sword, and the thought of losing it was unsettling. Also, it was a priceless weapon in the war against the forces of Bellis and the Deep Shadow.

The monkey wasn't intimidated. It continued to watch him.

As they were busy drinking and filling their canteens, a water beast surfaced near the middle of the river. Looking like a huge hog with massive jaws, it gazed at them with sullen eyes for a moment and then went under again.

Did you see that? asked Lannon.

I saw it, said Lothrin. A giant hog with a gaping mouth. I am not familiar with the animal, but I'm guessing we are intruding upon its territory. It could become agitated. We should leave.

I agree, said Brakthas. We are unwanted invaders.

Lannon felt a bit queasy. So huge hogs are wallowing in the water I've been drinking. Wonderful.

A moment after he had finished speaking, three of the water hogs rose to the surface and started toward them.

Flee! said Lothrin. Into the treetops!

They fled from the river bank and climbed a huge tree that was laden with vines and twisted branches. Moments later the three hogs crashed through the underbrush and slammed into the tree, causing it to shudder. They circled around it, bellowing strange noises and pushing against the trunk.

Lothrin readied his bow. I have enough arrows to finish them.

Lannon shook his head. No need for that. Eventually they will tire of waiting for us to come down and move on.

But Vorden could be in grave danger, said Lothrin. Are we willing to risk his life over these river hogs? Think carefully.

We can afford no delays, said Lannon, remembering Brakthas' warning. But there is no need to slay the beasts. They're not Goblins--just natural creatures defending their river. I can take care of it...I think.

One by one, Lannon seized the water hogs with the Eye and prompted them to leave. It was tiring work trying to manipulate the heavy creatures, but after making them thoroughly uncomfortable they opted to head back to their river. Grunting with displeasure, they lumbered off through the jungle.

What did you do to them? asked Lothrin, as they climbed down.

I poked and prodded them, said Lannon, wearily, and pushed at them to leave. Finally they got the message.

That was for the better, said Brakthas. The smell of blood could have drawn other predators to our location.

They ended up on a narrow path that ran on for miles through the rainforest. Afternoon crept toward evening, and at last they were led to the outskirts of a town--to a dump where junk lay in heaps, half buried with muddy dirt and rocks. Beyond the dump, bamboo huts lined the streets.

A Norack village, Lothrin said, with certainty. No doubt full of crime. Be very careful here, my friends.

Look at this! said Brakthas, seemingly excited as he lifted a rusted iron skillet with a broken handle. Somebody's frying pan died.

Anyone need a length of chain? asked Lannon, yanking his rusty prize from the dirt heap. It's quite solid.

Lothrin dug out a severely dented tea kettle. He studied it closely, then tossed it aside. The handle is awkward.

So much wasted metal, said Brakthas. Especially for a remote jungle village. They must be well-supplied from somewhere.

It doesn't surprise me, said Lothrin. Noracks and Malrogs tend to hoard items they don't need, until it fills up their living spaces. Even the poor ones have significant junk yet still struggle to find food. It is very strange. The Birlotes sell or donate anything we don't need. Broken items are repaired. Only things that are broken beyond hope are discarded, buried deep in the earth.

That's great, said Lannon, who was a bit weary of being reminded how perfect Birlotes were. But I'll bet your people don't have this! He yanked a huge wooden fishing lure from the mud. It was painted orange and was the size and shape of some bloated, ugly, river fish, with broken hooks hanging from the bottom.

What a repulsive lure, said Lothrin.

It's gigantic, said Brakthas, grinning. Like our Norack egos.

Lothrin shrugged, offering no disagreement.

With a chuckle, Lannon tossed the monstrosity aside. Okay, we better get focused here. We've got serious stuff going on.

The lighthearted moment had ended, and they turned their attention to the village. They didn't see anyone moving about, and a sinister tension seemed to hang in the air. Something was wrong here--they all could sense it.

Look, up there on the roof! Brakthas said, pointing.

Lannon's vision was greeted by a disturbing sight. Standing atop a nearby shack was the leader of the Blue Vultures. The muscular barbarian stood with his chest puffed out. As before, he wore a wig with blue feathers in place of hair, and his bare chest was covered in blue tattoos. He wore a horned, silver mask that made him look devilish.

The barbarian lord pointed at Lannon. Listen to my words! he shouted. All are dead here. The villagers, and your friend.

Lannon drew his sword, preparing to hurl it at his adversary. If they're all dead, he shouted back in anger, then you shall join them. From that distance, he couldn't tell if the barbarian lord was being deceptive, but anything was possible with this tricky rogue.

All are dead, the barbarian lord continued, "if you don't sheath the blade. You will come with me, alone. I will take you to them." He folded his powerful arms across his chest. His facial expression was unreadable beneath his silver mask, but Lannon sensed the killing lust within him. The leader wanted, and expected, bloodshed on this day.

This is clearly a trap, said Lothrin. He wants to corner you, Lannon, where he can use his tricks. Vorden probably isn't even in this village. Vorden probably already escaped his captors.

I know it's a trap, Lannon replied. But he may have Vorden locked away somewhere, and probably some of the villagers too if any are still alive. This has to end here. I will accompany him and play his little game. When my opportunity arises, I will take it. Lannon was weary of dealing with these insane barbarians. It was nothing but a distraction from the war against Bellis and the quest for the Green Flamestone. He wanted to be done with the Blue Vultures, to never have to see their sneering faces or ugly dolls again or witness their horrific deeds. Somehow, he had to end this once and for all.

Do what you must, Lannon, said Brakthas. But remember my warning. A powerful shaman lurks in this village. He could mark you.

How are you so certain of this? said Lannon. And even if it's true, I have dealt with mighty sorcerers before. And demons. And lots of other things. I realize you don't know my past, Brakthas. But I assure you I have much experience against evil sorcery. Lannon had no idea what he could mark you meant and he preferred not to know. It was no doubt some type of foul sorcery. It was business as usual.

Brakthas only shrugged.

Decide now! the barbarian lord shouted.

I will go with him, Lannon insisted. The two of you will wait here. If you encounter trouble, escape into the jungle. You both seem to know it well and will have an advantage there.

Do not be overconfident, said Lothrin. This barbarian lord nearly killed you once already. He is full of tricks and evil.

As if hearing Lothrin, the leader of the Blue Vultures gave a brief dance on the rooftop, waving a long dagger around in his weird ritual. He moved like a bird, flapping his arms. Then he did a backflip on the roof and flexed his arms for their benefit. Time runs out, sorcerer! he bellowed.

As Lannon started forward, Lothrin said, Once you leave us, we will likely be attacked. Maybe even killed.

I realize that, said Lannon, feeling a bit torn. That's why I am ordering you to flee if necessary. Go into the jungle. Surely they cannot catch you there. In fact, go now if you wish. He knew Brakthas and Lothrin were masters of jungle terrain and would be much safer there.

I will remain here, said Lothrin, and await your return. If you get in a fight, call out to us. Don't try to take them alone.

I'll alert you, Lannon promised.

Lannon continued forward, until he stood below the barbarian lord. It would have been easy to leap onto the roof and kill the repulsive, mocking figure with one swift sword stroke. For an instant he considered the idea, then rejected it. Until he knew more about the situation, caution had to prevail.

You will follow me, sorcerer, said the barbarian. We will go to where your friend is, where the villagers are, down in the big shack.

What do you want from me? asked Lannon.

We will make a trade, the leader replied. We will trade the women, children, and your friend--for you. You will become our prisoner. The others go free.

"So if I surrender