Lord Soth

by Edo Van Belkom

  Soth was silent.

  “Most interesting of all is that those who believe Korinne and the child to have been murdered have also made known their beliefs about who it was that wielded the deadly broadsword.”

  “And who might that be?”

  Lord Caladen drew in a breath. “You, Lord Soth.”

  The doors of The Drookit Duck burst open and a young man ran into the tavern, frantic and out of breath.

  “You’re liable to bust a button running like that,” laughed Caradoc.

  “Are you the knights who arrived with Lord Soth?” asked the young man when he was able to speak the words.

  Caradoc put down his tankard. “We are. What of it?”

  “Lord Caladen has just accused your lord of murder in the death of Lady Korinne and the child.”

  “What?”

  “Lies!”

  “A joke, surely?” cried the other knights, incredulous at the news.

  All except for Caradoc.

  Upon hearing the inevitable news, he simply lifted his tankard and took another sip of ale.

  “I did no such thing!” shouted Soth, his voice strong and unwavering. “I loved my wife dearly and would never have done anything to hurt her.” He glanced around the hall. “What gypsy would make such a wild and unfounded accusation? Who dares make such an outrageously damaging claim?”

  “Lady Korinne’s former lady-in-waiting for one,” answered Lord Caladen.

  Soth laughed contemptuously while shaking his head. “Would you take the word of a simple maid over a Knight of the Rose, a man sworn to live his life by the strict code of the Oath and the Measure?”

  “No,” replied Lord Caladen. “Young Mirrel’s words were not enough to convince me to begin these proceedings. There were others.”

  The high justice gestured to a knight standing guard at the back of the hall. The knight left the hall and a moment later he returned, leading an elderly elf-woman through the crowd toward the high justice.

  Soth recognized the old woman and felt a brush of relief. He had saved the woman’s life and rescued her party from a band of ogres. Surely, she would be moved to speak well of him.

  “What is your name?” asked the recording secretary.

  “Olsla,” said the old woman. “Olsla Stirling.”

  “And would you please tell me what you know about Lord Soth and his relationship with his former wife Lady Korinne?”

  The elf-woman looked at Soth, her eyes narrowing slightly. A clear sign of derision.

  Soth realized that the woman was likely upset that he had stolen Isolde out from under her nose. He wasn’t aware that she had come looking for Isolde, but that is what he guessed must have happened.

  “Many months ago,” the elderly woman began. “I journeyed to Dargaard Keep to reunite Isolde Denissa with her fellow elf-maids.”

  “Why had she been taken there?” asked Lord Caladen.

  “She had been whisked to the keep by Lord Soth in order to receive attention from the healer of Dargaard Keep.”

  “So Lord Soth saved her life?”

  “I cannot say. He might have. Then again, she might have lived even without his help. What I can say for certain is that when I tried to bring Isolde back home to Silvanesti, she refused to rejoin our party.”

  “Why was that?”

  “She told me she had decided to remain in the keep. She said that Lord Soth needed her there.”

  Lord Caladen nodded. “Why was that?”

  “Apparently, he found comfort with her”—the elf-woman’s voice cracked slightly—“because his wife could not bear him a child.”

  The hall suddenly became very noisy.

  “Ridiculous!” bellowed Soth. “If I am to be charged with such a serious crime, I expect such charges to be backed up by more credible witnesses than a former laundress and a senile old elf-woman.” He turned to face the crowd. “It is their word against the word of a Knight of Solamnia, a knight of the highest order possible.”

  “Hear, hear!” shouted several in the hall who were obviously pro-Soth.

  “Agreed,” said Lord Caladen, who waited for the noise to die down before continuing. “Agreed. Would you then accept the word of Istvan the healer, the only man who was present when Lady Korinne gave birth to the child?”

  Soth was at first surprised by the mention of the healer’s name as he was unaware that Istvan had made the trip to Palanthas. But knowing that Istvan would soon be speaking on his behalf allowed him to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Istvan was loyal to him alone, had been loyal to the Soth family for decades. He would surely corroborate Soth’s claim of innocence.

  “Absolutely, Lord Caladen. The word of Istvan should be the final word on this matter so it may be settled without doubt, once and for all.”

  “Agreed,” Lord Caladen said. “Bring in the healer.”

  Again Lord Caladen gestured to the knight standing guard at the rear of the hall. Moments later, the hunched figure of Istvan was led through the crowd of people.

  Soth nodded toward Istvan as he passed, but the healer did not return the gesture as his frightened eyes were focussed on the high justice.

  “What is your name?” asked Lord Caladen.

  “Istvan,” he said. “Istvan, the healer.”

  “Do you go by any other names?”

  “No.”

  “You are the healer of Dargaard Keep?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you treat the elf-maid Isolde Denissa when she was brought to the keep?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you make of her injuries?”

  “Well,” said Istvan, hesitating. “Well, she was quite severely injured and, I might add, if Lord Soth hadn’t brought her to me when he had, she might not be alive today.”

  Soth cracked a slight smile. Istvan was part of Soth’s inner circle. If the high justice thought he could persuade Istvan to speak afoul of him, the man was grossly mistaken.

  Lord Caladen’s face remained impassive as he continued questioning Istvan. “You also were present when Lady Korinne gave birth to her child in the keep?”

  “Yes.”

  Lord Caladen inhaled a breath. “Did she and the child survive the birth, or did she die while in the process of giving birth?”

  Again Istvan hesitated a moment. “It was a difficult pregnancy and Lady Korinne was in pain almost daily as the child came to term. Unfortunately, the pain became too much for her and she died while giving birth to the child. Sadly, as a result of further complications, the child died as well.”

  Voices grew louder at the back of the room.

  Soth smiled broadly. If the only eyewitness to the birth said Korinne had died birthing the child, then the high justice would have no option but to issue a full and public apology for this travesty. Soth would be dismissed at once.

  But Lord Caladen did not look to be satisfied with Istvan’s statements. It was as if he didn’t believe what the healer was saying. Then he looked over at Soth and saw the wide smile on the knight’s face.

  “I warn you, Istvan. As healer of Dargaard Keep, you are bound to live by the code of ethics outlined in the Oath and the Measure.”

  “Of course, milord.”

  “Then you understand that it is a grave breech of honor to tell a falsehood, especially in such a place as the Hall of High Justice.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Good. Then you would be more than happy to take part in a little test that will settle once and for all the fact that you are indeed telling the truth.”

  Istvan had been backed into a corner. He had no other choice but to agree. “As you wish,” he said.

  Soth glanced around, wondering what in the name of Paladine was going on.

  Lord Caladen raised his right hand and beckoned someone in the crowd to come forward. A short, thin figure wearing dirty white and yellow robes moved away from the crowd.

  “A mage?” said Soth. “What sort of game is this?”

  �
��No game, Lord Soth. Only a search for the truth.”

  “But if I’m not mistaken, this”—he gestured to the man in the white and yellow robes—“is a mage. Surely you are aware of the fact that magic has been outlawed by the Kingpriest of Istar. What purpose can this mage serve in the Hall of High Justice?”

  Lord Caladen waited for silence, then spoke. “Not all magic has been banned by the Kingpriest. Some magic, that which has as its purpose the promotion of Good, the quest for truth and knowledge, is still sanctioned.”

  “But I don’t—” stammered Soth.

  “If Istvan is telling the truth, then he won’t be troubled by having this good mage cast a spell of truth over him, since it will only serve to prove that his words are truthful.”

  Soth too had been caught by his own words, just as Istvan had been before. If he argued the matter it would seem as if he had something to hide. But, if he readily agreed to the test and the spell proved successful, the truth would become known to all.

  He couldn’t risk it.

  “I protest Lord Caladen, Istvan has already spoken—”

  “And you have said that you would accept what the healer said as being the final word on this matter. Now remain quiet and let the healer speak.” He nodded in the direction of the mage.

  The mage pulled back his right sleeve to reveal a glassy blue stone in his hand. It was connected to a leather thong that was wrapped tightly about his fingers. He moved the stone closer to Istvan and it suddenly began to glow with a strange incandescent light. The mage began mumbling a series of words and guttural tones. After several minutes the mage nodded to Lord Caladen, then stepped back, leaving Istvan standing absolutely rigid, his eyes staring blankly at the far end of the hall.

  “Istvan is now under the power of a truth spell and is unable to tell a lie, even if he so wishes,” Lord Caladen said to the people within the hall. It was obvious he wanted to show that no trickery was being used and that the spell hadn’t been cast simply in order to make Istvan say what the high justice wanted to hear. “Istvan, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer by saying the word green.”

  Istvan nodded.

  “What color is the sky?”

  “Blue.”

  “Very good.”

  “Now, Istvan, when Lord Soth brought Isolde Denissa to Dargaard Keep, were her injuries life-threatening?”

  “No.”

  “How so?”

  “Her injuries would have healed simply with the passage of time.”

  The hall was silent.

  “When you assisted Lady Korinne in the birth of her child, did she survive that birth?”

  “Yes. She was in fine health. In fact, the child’s birth eased her pain considerably.”

  Dead silence.

  “And what of the child? Did it survive the birth?”

  “Yes. It survived. Only it was hideously deformed.”

  “If mother and child survived the birth, then how did they both come to die a short time later?”

  “Soth entered my chambers and sent me from the room. When I saw him again he reported to me that they had both died during the birth.”

  The silence continued.

  “Did anyone else enter the room after you allowed Lord Soth into the chamber?”

  “No.”

  “What did the bodies look like when you saw them next?”

  “Hacked to bits. It was hard to recognize any of the pieces as being human.”

  Lord Caladen took a breath and nodded to the mage.

  The wizard stepped forward and released Istvan from the spell.

  Istvan looked about the room as if he were unsure of what had happened.

  Soth had watched the proceedings with his mouth agape, unable to say a word. Now he simply stood defiantly, shoulders straight, lips tight, chin thrust forward—a classic portrait of the noble and gallant Knight of Solamnia.

  However, the image of the great knight, of strength and gallantry, did little to mask the truth.

  Soth was a murderer.

  “Knights of Solamnia,” said Lord Caladen, addressing the seven knights in the jury. “You’ve heard the words of Istvan the healer, words spoken under the power of a spell of truth. How do you judge the accused?”

  The seven knights spoke quietly between themselves for several moments before Lord Walter Dukane, a Knight of the Rose, stood up and addressed the high justice.

  “Guilty on all counts,” said Lord Dukane. “By a unanimous vote.”

  Lord Caladen nodded solemnly, then turned slowly to face Soth. “Loren Soth,” he said, stripping Soth of the title of Lord Soth. “I hereby find you to be in gross defiance of the Oath and the Measure and guilty of the murders of your wife and child, crimes punishable by death. You are to be immediately held in custody and will be duly executed at a public beheading in the center of Palanthas at precisely noon tomorrow.”

  Soth, his face a rigid mask devoid of any emotion, was led from the hall by way of a side door.

  At the rear of the hall, people shook their heads in disbelief.

  Several others wept.

  Chapter 23

  A kender father stood on the front steps of his cottage on the outskirts of the village of Mid-O-Hylo, watching the foglike clouds descend from the high mountains in the west and the low mountains in the east.

  The light gray mist was covering the land in a shroud that, unlike other fogs he had seen, seemed very dark and gloomy.

  “What’s happening father?” asked the kender’s young son as he ran up the path toward the cottage, his ponytail bobbing and swishing behind him.

  “Something.”

  “What something?” asked the boy.

  “Something,” repeated the kender. “But what something, I do not know.”

  “Something strange, I bet,” said the boy, watching the mist continue to invade the lands surrounding the village, further blotting out the light from the sun.

  “Yes,” said the kender.

  “Something weird, I’d say.”

  “Yes.”

  “It reminds me a lot of the snowy crystal glass I found in the hand of that sleeping knight on our last trip to Thelgaard.”

  The elder kender said nothing, his eyes fixed on the mist. The swirling tendrils of smokelike fog seemed to have taken hold of him, quashing his usually carefree attitude. It was an attitude that had served him well for all of his years, even when things had looked most grim.

  For the first time in his life, the kender knew fear.

  “Get inside the cottage,” the kender told his son.

  “But this is creepy, father,” said the young one. “Can’t we stay out and watch the fog some more?”

  The kender began to step backward in the direction of his home. His son, however, remained where he stood, waving his hand through the mist as if trying to catch it between his fingers.

  “All right,” said the father. “You can stay outside and watch it if you like, but I’m going inside to watch it through the windows. It looks even spookier that way.”

  “Spookier?” said the youngster. “I want to see. Let me in.”

  The young kender gleefully ran into the house, followed closely by his somber father.

  When they were both inside, the father shut the door and locked it tight for the first time since he’d installed the shiny brass lock that he’d found improperly appreciated in the door of a tavern in Caergoth.

  He knew he was insulting the door’s purpose by locking it, but he was much too afraid of the overspreading doom-filled pall to care.

  Chapter 24

  “Obviously there has been some grave error in justice,” said Caradoc, standing before the knights in The Drookit Duck, one foot on his chair and another atop the table.

  “Injustice indeed,” cried one of the knights. He couldn’t tell which one of the knights had spoken, and therefore couldn’t tell if the words were said in support or condemnation of Lord Soth.

  Most of the knights wer
e still in shock over what had transpired. They had journeyed to Palanthas on a matter of routine business, only to have their leader sentenced to death.

  It seemed like madness.

  After all, Lord Soth was the epitome of everything the Knights of Solamnia stood for, a shining example of everything that was good and honorable about the knighthood.

  But there were those among the knights who were beginning to question their lord. And with good reason. They had seen the elf-maid Isolde Denissa after the ogre attack and although none had said so at the time, many thought it odd that Soth insisted he bring her back to the keep. And then there was the sentencing itself. Soth had been questioned in the Hall of High Justice and found guilty by seven fellow Knights of Solamnia. Unanimous decisions in such matters were rare, so the outcome of the proceedings had to be respected. And what of the high justice? Would he sentence a Knight of Solamnia, a Knight of the Rose, to death, if such action wasn’t warranted?

  Caradoc considered the death sentence against Lord Soth. If Soth were gone, it might clear the way for Caradoc himself to take control of the keep. An intriguing possibility, but unlikely. As a base of operations for the Knights of the Rose, Dargaard Keep would likely be taken over by another Rose knight and Caradoc would quickly fade into the background as an anonymous Knight of the Crown. No, his status was tied indelibly to the fate of Lord Soth and, even if Soth were disgraced, it would be better to be his seneschal than just another Knight of Solamnia.

  In the interim, the gathered knights had begun to mutter and grumble, and Caradoc sensed an insurgence gaining momentum. He could not let such thoughts take up root in the minds of his fellow knights. If he did, all hope of Soth returning to Dargaard Keep would be lost.

  “There isn’t one of us who doesn’t owe his life to Lord Soth,” he said. “I know he’s saved mine several times and I suspect the same holds true for all of us.”

  The majority of knights were leaning toward supporting Caradoc, but there were still a few who remained unconvinced.

  “You, Knight Krejlgaard,” continued Caradoc. “Did he not pull you from the darkest depths of the Vingaard River after you fell from your mount during a crossing?”