Chapter 18: The Black Knight
As the Squires watched, a huge form dragged itself into the lantern light. It was a Cave Troll--but certainly not one that was full of vigor. Its grey flesh was wrinkled and cracked with age, its face was mapped with countless lines, and long white hair grew on its body. It was somewhat thin, with its ribs standing out under its withered skin. In one hand it carried a dark sword, holding it by the blade. One of its feet had somehow become lodged in a metal bucket, and unable to free the foot, the Troll simply dragged the bucket along with it. It was a bizarre and pathetic sight.
The Troll caught sight of them and snarled, showing only a few remaining teeth. It raised the sword handle up high like a club.
"What should we do?" cried Lannon, glancing first at the Troll and then at the bridge where the dark pool stood. The Troll blocked their path back.
"Run for it," said Vorden. "We can make it."
"But those big hands!" cried Timlin, pointing at the pool. "What if they come out and grab us?"
Aldreya glanced back and forth from the Troll to the bridge, her burning dagger held out at arm's length. "We can't beat a Troll," she said.
"But the hands!" Timlin insisted.
"They won't catch us," said Vorden. "Now come on. All at once!"
As the Troll drew close, the Squires raced across the bridge. They tried to run as swiftly and silently as they could. Somehow, they made it around the pool and to the other side of the bridge without provoking the hands in the water. They stood panting, watching in fascination as the Troll staggered slowly after them.
When the Troll reached the pool and started around it (making its thumping, scraping racket in the process), the remaining giant hand groped up out of the water, wiggled its fingers, and swatted the Troll. The Troll stumbled backwards, the sword falling from its fist and clattering to the stone. Snarling, the Troll tried to grab for the wiggling hand, but it swatted the Troll again and this time knocked it off the bridge. A big splash arose from below. The hand then slipped back beneath the pool.
The Squires breathed sighs of relief.
"Come on," said Lannon. "Let's see if we can find the others."
"What if they're dead?" said Timlin. "What will we do?"
"Taris..." whispered Aldreya. "He can't be dead."
Lannon nodded in agreement. "They can't all be finished. I just can't imagine it." It was just too horrible for Lannon to accept. A repeating image ran through his mind of them being flung into the chasm. It had happened so swiftly and shockingly.
"I'd like to fix those hands," muttered Vorden, "after what they did."
"Don't go near the pool, Vorden" said Aldreya. "Or you might end up going over, too. If the Knights couldn't beat that monster, we definitely cannot."
Vorden's gaze fell on the black sword that lay by the pool. "Look at that sword! I've never seen anything like it. I'm going after it."
"Don't go, Vorden!" cried Timlin. "You don't even use a sword."
"Just leave it," said Aldreya. "What's wrong with you? The others need our help, and all you can think of is yourself."
Vorden glared at her. "Whatever you think, Aldreya, doesn't concern me, so just shut your mouth. That sword could come in handy."
"You're so incredibly selfish!" she said. "I've never met anyone so self-centered as you in my entire life."
She grabbed his arm. "We're going to help the others."
Vorden shoved her away. "Don't touch me."
Her green eyes burning with anger, Aldreya raised her stone dagger. "I can stop you from going out there, if I want to."
Vorden turned away, ignoring her. He handed his lantern to Lannon and started back across the bridge, his axe held ready.
"Vorden!" Aldreya whispered pleadingly. "Come back here."
While the others watched with pounding hearts, Vorden crept to the edge of the pool and laid hands on the sword hilt. He lifted the weapon silently off the stone, grinning, and held it up for the others to see.
Then he rose and started back. As he did so, the great hand reached forth and hovered menacingly above him.
"Watch out!" the others cried.
Yet even as the hand grabbed for Vorden, the black sword slashed around in an arc and sliced through the tree-trunk sized arm. The hand dropped to the bridge, its fingers still wiggling--like a giant insect lying on its back.
Vorden ran to where the others stood, his eyes blazing in triumph. "There," he said. "I got the sword, and killed the hand."
Lannon nodded. "Let's just hope that's the last hand."
Timlin's eyes were wide with awe. "That sword must be pretty sharp to cut through that thing so easily."
Vorden examined it. It was a straight, double-edged sword of black hue with a hilt that displayed four silver claw-like protrusions on either side. At the center of the hilt was a silver symbol that looked vaguely like a spider, while smaller runes of equal color ran the length of the blade.
"It must be," he agreed. "It kind of felt like..."
"Like what?" said Lannon.
"Like the sword moved on its own," said Vorden.
Aldreya shuddered. "Maybe you shouldn't keep it."
"What are you talking about?" said Vorden. "Of course I'm going to keep it. And you better not tell anyone I found it!"
"But it might be cursed," said Aldreya. "Just be careful, okay?"
"I will," said Vorden. "But it's a good weapon, and right now we need one, since we're on our own. I'll just leave my axe here for now."
"We could go back now and get help," said Aldreya.
Even as she spoke, the pool began to boil. Something was twisting around in the water, perhaps in agony.
"I think it's dying," said Lannon.
"Or healing itself," said Vorden. "Who knows? I'd like to keep going and see if we can locate the others. You could use the Eye of Divinity to help find them. Maybe when we come back later, that thing will be dead."
Lannon nodded. "I don't really want to go past it right now. And the others might need our help right away."
"Let's find our friends," said Timlin. "We can't leave them behind."