After journeying to Palanthas for Lord Reynard's elaborate public funeral, Soth remained in the city for several weeks while the slow passage of time gently eased Korinne's pain. Then as the month of Brookgreen came to a close and Soth felt he'd neglected his knightly duties long enough and was compelled to return to Dargaard Keep, he offered to let Korinne remain with her mother in Palanthas and return to the keep only when she felt she was ready.
Korinne refused.
With a loyalty and honor worthy of a Knight of Solamnia she told Soth,
"My place is by my husband's side. I will return with you to Dargaard
Keep." And with that they returned to Knightlund with renewed hopes of birthing an heir before Korinne's mother Leyla also passed away.
But Yurthgreen also came and went, and despite the flowering of the plants and the greenery beginning to sprout on the trees around the keep, Korinne once again came to Soth with the now agonizingly painful news.
This time Soth simply raised his eyebrows expectantly, having used words to ask the question far too often.
Korinne shook her head.
Soth let out a sigh, his chest aching. He'd been able to remain optimistic by believing that when Paladine (the Great Dragon and the God of Good) wished him to have an heir, he would bless the couple with one.
After all, were not the Knights of Solamnia also called the Sons of Paladine? Surely, a new "Son" for the Soth household was only a matter of time. Still, the wait grew more and more painful with each passing month.
Korinne's eyes welled up with tears. She looked away from Soth as if ashamed, then turned and quickly left the room.
Soth remained where he was, his words on the matter- no matter how kind-having been unable to ease her pain for many, many months now. He tried to busy himself with some task, but could not.
Korinne's sobs could be heard echoing too loudly through the keep.
The forest was burning.
Soth looked around him and saw nothing but flames eating up the trees.
He was being pushed northward, the fire at his back leaving him no other choice.
He must have been running for hours. His legs had become heavy and leaden, each step becoming that much harder to take. At last, he could not go on.
"Father?"
The voice, it was the same one as before. It belonged to his son.
"Father? Are you there? Help me!"
Soth tried to run, but his legs had grown far too tired, his body exhausted from continually running from the flames.
He took two more awkward steps and fell to his knees.
"Father, why don't you help me?"
He searched the smoke that hung over the forest like a pall and discerned movement in the distance.
It was his son, younger than before, dressed in the garb of a squire.
His eyes were closed, no doubt seared by the heat and smoke of the fire.
He was wandering the forest aimlessly, stepping over fallen trees and smoldering ashes, even walking at times directly toward the fire itself.
Soth opened his mouth to call out to the boy, and suddenly realized he did not know what to call him.
He didn't know his own son's name.
"Father! Save me!"
Soth opened his mouth once more and gagged on the thick black smoke enshrouding him like darkness incarnate.
"Father, are you there?"
He gagged and coughed on the acrid smoke. He wanted to call out, but before he could make a sound a burning tree toppled, crashing down onto the younger Soth, knocking him to the ground and setting his clothes ablaze.
As he watched the flames eat away at his son, his own flesh and blood, Soth heard the boy's final words.
"Father, it hurts…"
Soth's eyes shot open and he coughed to clear his throat of phlegm. He looked over to where Korinne lay.
Thankfully, she was still asleep, the slight smile gracing her visage proof that she'd remained oblivious to the horrible nightmare that had haunted him yet again.
Soth rubbed his fisted hands against his sleepy eyes. It had been months since he'd had such a dream, not since he had been on the trail toward
Halton. At the time he'd dismissed it as simply a product of his eagerness to do battle. But now, there had been months of calm and peaceful existence within the keep. Even the citizens of Knightlund had been cooperative, settling their minor squabbles and arguments themselves rather than wasting the valuable time of the lord of the keep.
Then what could have brought it on?
He rose from the bed, careful to leave Korinne undisturbed.
Then he quickly got dressed in leggings and a tunic, and slipped into a pair of soft-soled boots so as to not make any noise as he wandered through the keep.
It was still quite early in the morning and few in the keep would be awake yet. Even the roosters had yet to begin crowing the dawning of a new day.
He slipped out of the room and ventured down to the keep's gatehouse.
The drawbridge was already down in preparation for the morning's deliveries. Soth asked the footman on watch to raise the portcullis enough to allow him to get outside of the keep and wander the grounds.
"Alone?" asked the footman.
Soth merely glared at him. Even though it was customary to have a knight or footman accompany anyone venturing out of the keep on foot, Soth wanted very much to be alone.
The footman looked at Soth for several seconds waiting for an answer.
Then, realizing he wouldn't be getting one, he said, "Yes, milord." He began turning the winding gear that slowly lifted the portcullis. Soth crouched down and ducked under the still-rising portcullis, then walked across the heavy wooden bridge, his feet making no sounds against its planks.
He stopped at one side of the bridge and looked down into the chasm below. It was dark and foreboding, like the open maw of a dragon might appear when viewed from close up. There were several pebbles on the bridge. Soth nudged one toward the edge and finally over the side. He listened carefully, but did not hear the stone hit bottom.
He moved on, crossing the bridge and heading toward the small garden kept on the grounds. After the wedding, flowers and trees and shrubs had been planted on the site and now, almost a year later, the plants were beginning to bloom. The garden was awash in bright yellows and oranges, and rich blues and greens. It was still too early for the roses, but the groundskeepers had assured him they would be a brilliant spectacle of red, white and yellow when they bloomed in a few short weeks.
The stunning rebirth of nature did little to improve Soth's state of mind. The blossoming of new life only served to remind him of his and
Korinne's inability to do the same.
It just didn't make any sense.
If his father, Aynkell Soth, had been able to create offspring so often and with such apparent ease then why not him as well? Was he not of the same flesh and blood?
And what of Korinne? Hadn't Lord and Lady Gladria given birth to a large family, providing Korinne with several brothers and sisters, each of them with several children of their own? Why hadn't such fertility been passed on to her as well?
For the first time since the wedding, Soth's mind was infected by doubt.
Perhaps I've made a mistake in marrying Lady Korinne.
The thought hit him like the slap of a hand encased in cold, hard mail.
How could I have thought such a thing?
And yet it continued to haunt him, like the dreams.
He walked through the garden, smelling the flowers in the hopes that the devilish thought would fade from his memory. But instead it lingered.
He approached the small gazebo positioned in the center of the garden.
It was closed off by a small gate and the gate was kept closed by a latch. Although the latch was made to accommodate a lock, it was without one. Soth opened the latch and stepped into the gazebo. As he closed the gate behind him he was reminded of a kender saying.
"Why insul
t a door's purpose by locking it?"
Indeed, and why would Paladine allow them to build a nest of such love if its destiny was to be barren? Soth still believed Paladine was waiting for the proper time to give the couple children, but he was beginning to question why the Great Dragon was making them wait so long.
As he sat down on the bench inside the gazebo and watched the morning sun begin to crest the peaks of the Dargaard Mountains to the west, he felt he had an idea of what the answer might be.
Perhaps Paladine was making him pay the price for his father's indiscretions and his own concealment of them.
The sins of the father.
They would be with him.
Always.
Soth felt a breeze blow heavily down from the mountains.
It was a cool wind and it made him shiver.
"Milord."
Soth fumed to his left. Caradoc slowly appeared out of the garden's shadows.
"Is everything all right?" asked Soth's seneschal, concern for his lord apparent in his voice.
"Yes, everything is fine," said Soth. "It's just that there's a chill in the air this morning." He pulled his cloak more tightly around his body to stave off the cold. "Can you feel it?"
Caradoc looked at Soth strangely. "No milord, I can't."
Chapter 9
The elderly mage walked casually through the streets of Istar, his yellow and white robes flowing behind, swirling over the cobblestones.
Every once in a while he would glance into a store front or shop window looking at everything, but nothing in particular.
It was a strange feeling.
He had been empowered by the Kingpriest to read the minds of the people of Istar so that he could discern their evil thoughts. But, what was he to do about those evil thoughts after they'd been found out, and how was he to prevent them from becoming evil deeds?
On this subject the Kingpriest had been vague, leaving the matter up to the discretion of the individual mages.
Earlier in the day the mage had watched a business transaction being conducted in the marketplace on the city's west side. A fisherman from the coastal down of Cesena had brought baskets of fish to trade for grain, sugar, spice and other necessities of life. In this particular transaction he had exchanged twenty-four fish for two bushels of grain, a poor trade given that the fish were quite fresh-even packed in ice-while the quality of the grain was rather dubious. But grain at this time of year was hard to find, especially high quality grain, so the fisherman was forced to make the trade or else do without.
After the deal had been made and the two men shook hands, the mage read the minds of each. The grain dealer was obviously happy, but the fisherman was frustrated by the deal, knowing he had given up more than he'd received.
And then… something of an evil thought.
The fisherman wished that the grain dealer would be similarly cheated in another transaction later in the day.
As he'd watch the two men part, the mage considered the fisherman's thought.
Had it been evil?
At length, he decided it was not. It was simply wishing that the trader eventually got what he deserved. That had not been an evil thought, but rather, merely fair.
Now as he walked the streets of the industrial district, the mage stopped by the open window of a blacksmith's shop and watched the smith as he worked.
The interior of the shop glowed orange from the light of the fire burning hotly off in one corner. Judging by the several decorative swords leaning against the wall in a neat row, the smith was busy hammering out items to be hung in one of the halls within the Temple of the Kingpriest. The hilt ends of the swords were of an elaborate design and considering the amount of effort the smith was putting into the sword currently on the anvil, quite difficult to fashion.
The mage decided to read the smith's mind.
Little more there… Too much… A curve here… More… More …
The thoughts seemed to correspond with the blows of his hammer.
Again… Harder this time… More… Too much!
But in addition to the simple thoughts that went along with each blow, there was also an underlying current of anger. Anger against what or whom, the mage couldn't tell, but it was there just under the surface, ready to break through at any moment.
Too much work for so little pay… Flatter… Harder… Again …
Suddenly the sword the smith was working on cracked, sending pieces of hot metal flaring away like comets before sizzling against the damp stone floor of the shop.
More time and money gone… Too much work, even for the Kingpriest…
The smith lifted the broken sword away from the anvil and inspected the crack, and then its sharp, pointed tip.
Perhaps it's just sharp enough for the Kingpriest… Straight through the heart and a quick turn for good measure… The mage gasped at the wickedness of the thought. To kill the Kingpriest was unthinkable. The mage simply could not allow such evil thoughts to fester in the smith's mind. And there was only one sure way to put a stop to them.
The mage closed his eyes and began to mumble a string of unintelligible words and syllables.
And as he did so, the smith began to sway as if he were beginning to feel dizzy. The smith shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, but still continued to sway.
At last the mage fell silent.
The spell had been cast.
The smith fell forward still holding the sword in his hands.
The hilt hit the floor and the sharp point pierced his throat, choking off his breath… And putting an end to all his evil thoughts.
Chapter 10
Sunshine-filled days and rain-swept nights provided the perfect conditions for farming, and the farmers of Solamnia were already thanking Paladine for what they expected to be a bumper crop and bountiful harvest.
But for Lord Soth, the month of Holmswelt meant something else. Every summer the Knights of Solamnia traveled across Ansalon to meet and confer about everything from the training of squires, to the retirement of elderly knights, from the latest developments in weaponry and armor to scholarly studies of the Oath and The Measure.
The previous year, Soth had missed the annual meeting because of preparations for the wedding and the transfer of rule of Knightlund from his father to himself. This year however, Soth had to attend because, as a leading member of the Order of the Rose, he would be more than conspicuous by his absence.
And so, on the first day of Holmswelt, Soth and six of his loyal knights prepared for the three-day journey across the Solamnic plains to Palanthas, the great port city and the jewel of Solamnia.
Soth had chosen to take only six knights with him- Crown knights
Caradoc, Kern and Krejigaard, and Sword knights Valcic, Vingus, and
Farold-the journey being something of a reward for their outstanding conduct over the course of the past twelve months. Soth took everything into consideration when making his choices, from bravery in battle against the ogres in Halton to keeping spirits and morale high throughout the long, cold winter.
He might have been able to bring more knights with him, but with a limited number attending the meeting, that would have come at the expense of other Knights of Solamnia stationed elsewhere on the continent.
Besides, the system currently in use had proved best in terms of educating the entire knighthood. When Soth's six knights returned to
Dargaard Keep, they would instruct the others in what they had learned.
In this way all the Knights of Solamnia could grow stronger while those in Palanthas wouldn't have to scramble in order to accommodate every knight who wished to attend.
Out of respect for the hot summer sun, Soth dressed for the journey by wearing a light tunic and leggings and covered that with lightweight leather armor. He expected little trouble on the way and indeed there had only been a few uprisings (such as the ogre attack on Halton) ever since the Kingpriest of Istar's Proclamation of Manifest Virtue. The proclamation, made m
any years ago, had dealt a death blow to the minions of Evil still brave (or perhaps mad) enough to show themselves on the continent of Ansalon. At times Soth felt the Kingpriest was becoming too powerful for his own good, but that was something for clerics and politicians to decide. He was a warrior, and fought for the cause of
Good in whatever guise it decided to manifest itself.
The six knights were already mounted upon their horses and waiting patiently while Soth said goodbye to Korinne.
"The Knights' Meeting runs seven days. I will likely be gone twice that length of time."
"Take as much time as you need," said Korinne. "No more, no less."
Soth nodded. Korinne was a strong woman and had proved to be an excellent wife in all but one crucial area.
She looked at him with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Perhaps by the time you return-"
Soth cut off her words by placing his right index finger to her lips. He shook his head. "It pains me to continue to be so hopeful," he said, knowing the words would hurt Korinne, but not knowing any easier way to say them.
"Perhaps it would be better for both of us if you would talk to me about children only when you are truly with child."
Korinne looked up at Soth, her lips pressed together to no doubt keep them from trembling. Her eyes looked wet and glassy, on the verge of tears. "Yes, milord."
He leaned forward to kiss her and felt her dry lips press against his cheek. He straightened up and looked at her for several moments wanting to say something but not knowing what. Finally, he turned away and mounted his horse.
"To Palanthas!" he said.
He led the knights slowly through the gate, under the portcullis and over the drawbridge leading out of Dargaard Keep. Although the portcullis remained up until they were well on their way and nearly out of sight of the keep, Soth never once looked back.
"A honed broadsword, a sturdy shield and a little plate armor is all a good Knight of Solamnia ever needs in battle," said Caradoc, riding alongside Soth as they neared the end of the first day on their journey to Palanthas. They had already discussed life in the keep, prospects of a good crop, and the charms of certain women Caradoc found
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