Lord Soth w-6

by Edo Van Belkom

  "When you arrive at Vingaard Keep, I wish you to contact my cousin. Lord

  Eward Irvine, Knight of the Sword. When you see him you will tell him that his cousin, Lady Korinne has asked that he call Lord Soth to

  Vingaard Keep on a matter of urgent business and that he keep him there for no less than two days. If he doubts you in any way, you may give him this as proof that I have sent you." She handed him a locket emblazoned with the Korinne family emblem.

  Engel nodded. "Yes, milady."

  Korinne rolled forward on the bench and spoke in a lower voice. "As you might have guessed, this is not something I wish others to know about."

  "Of course not, milady."

  "And if you speak of this to anyone I will deny everything.

  No one will believe your word against mine." Her words trailed off and she was silent for a long while, allowing the magnitude of what she'd said to settle in.

  "I understand," Engel said. "I will not fail you."

  "I know you won't."

  Korinne's faith in the young man prompted him to stick out his chest with pride.

  "You will leave tonight," she said. "Under cover of darkness. Now get out of the garden before someone sees you."

  The young man was gone in seconds.

  Korinne arched her neck and looked up into the sky.

  Solinari and Lunitari hung full in the sky like a pair of watchful eyes, one a bright and shimmering white, the other tinged with a slight crimson, the color of blood.

  Chapter 14

  Istvan sat hunched over his mixing table, cropping pinches of blue hyssop into a small pile of powdered comfrey. According to the journals he'd read, the hybrid mixture was supposed to do wonders for easing the pains in joints brought on by the passage of time. Old age.

  He drew his mixing stick in circles through the reddishblue powder until it was a deep-purple hue. Then he scooped it off the table with a flat stone and gently shook the mix into a small leather pouch. After closing one end of the pouch, he tied it around his waist so the mixture would always be close-at-hand.

  He'd been taking the powder for several days now and couldn't yet decide whether it was working or not. He would continue the treatment for two more days. If his pain didn't lessen by then he'd end the experiment and dismiss the exercise as being nothing more than the wishful thinking of an old fool.

  There was a knock at the door.

  "Who is it?" asked Istvan.

  "Parry Roslin," said a voice from the other side of the door.

  Istvan's eyebrows arched. Roslin was the captain of the keep's guards.

  At this time of night, Roslin's visit could only have to deal with official business. "Come in." "Beg your pardon, healer," said the large and stout, redhaired guard. '"There are four elf-maids at the gate wanting entrance to the keep."

  Istvan nodded thoughtfully. "So why are you telling me this?"

  "Milord and milady have retired for the night."

  "And what of knights Caradoc and Farold?"

  "The women say they are here only to see Isolde and no other. They say they're here to bring her back to Silvanesti."

  Istvan looked at the guard a moment. "I see."

  "And because the elf-maid is in your charge I thought I'd bring the matter to your attention first."

  Istvan was silent, considering the situation. He glanced down at the mixing table and saw the speckles of blue hyssop that had fallen in the cracks between the wood, blue hyssop on which Lord Soth had spent a tidy sum.

  "You've done well," Istvan said at last.

  Roslin smiled, as he'd probably had some doubts about whether he was doing the right thing coming to see Istvan first.

  "Let them in, but take them directly to the elf-maid.

  Keep a guard posted throughout their visit, which is to be conducted in private. When they are done, escort them to the gatehouse. If Isolde is with them, call me. If not, send them on their way and deal with me no more."

  Roslin nodded, and left the room.

  Istvan got up from his chair, suddenly feeling much older and stiffer than when he'd first sat down.

  "It's good to see you, Isolde," said one of the elf-maids.

  "And you too," answered Isolde. "All of you."

  "We missed you in Palanthas," said another of the maids. "It was unfortunate that you couldn't have been there with us. You would have liked it there."

  Isolde made no comment.

  The maids chatted for a while before the elderly elfwoman joined in.

  "So," she said. "Now that you have recovered from your injuries we can all return to Silvanesti the same as we left-as a party of five."

  "I won't be returning to Silvanesti," said Isolde.

  The other three maidens had been chatting between themselves while the elf-woman spoke, but now upon hearing the response from Isolde they grew quiet and the room had suddenly filled with tension.

  "What did you say?" asked the elf-woman.

  The silence in the room was complete.

  "I said I won't be returning to Silvanesti. I have decided to remain here in the keep. For a little while longer at least."

  The elf-woman rubbed a thin bony finger across her wrinkled forehead.

  Obviously, Isolde's decision didn't rest lightly on the woman's shoulders.

  "Leave us alone for a moment," said the woman.

  Without hesitation, the three elf-maids rose up and left the room leaving Isolde and the woman alone.

  When the door was closed, the woman spoke. "You can't be serious."

  "But I am."

  "What possible place does an elf-maid have in the keep of a Knight of

  Solamnia?"

  Isolde didn't have an answer to the question, or at least didn't have an answer she felt like relating to the elderly elf.

  "Have they put you to work?"

  "Not really. I help the healer in his herb garden, but it's not really work."

  "Do you sing for milord?"

  "No."

  "Do you do any entertaining in the keep?"

  "I play the healer's harp, but it's more for my own pleasure than anything else."

  "Are you tutoring children?"

  "No."

  She looked at Isolde curiously. "Have you been made one of milady's maids?"

  "No."

  "Then why must you remain here when you belong in Silvanesti?"

  "Milord needs me… to talk to."

  The old elf-woman stared at Isolde with narrowed eyes for a long, long time. Finally she said, "Have you been intimate with the lord of the keep?"

  All she had done was hold him in her arms and comfort him. At least that was all she had done in the beginning.

  Then she had kissed him, and then… She felt in her heart that she had done nothing wrong.

  She had merely provided some comfort to a soul in pain, but she knew she couldn't tell that to the elf-woman with any amount of conviction. So, instead of answering the question, she merely lowered her head in silence.

  The woman drew in a long breath. "May the great god Paladine take pity on your soul."

  "This seems so sudden," said Korinne. "Must you go away again?"

  "I'm afraid so, Korinne," said Soth. "Lord Irvine says my help is needed at Vingaard Keep on a matter of great urgency. Exactly what the problem is he did not say, but judging by the tone of his message, I think it's best that I depart as soon as possible."

  "Very well, then," Korinne sighed, feigning disappointment.

  "If you must go, then Paladine be with you."

  "Thank you, my love."

  Korinne nodded and did her best to smile. "Give Lord Irvine my regards."

  "I will."

  The midday sun was high over the western plain as Lady Korinne stood at the window of her bedchamber waiting for her husband to leave the keep.

  In the distance, four figures draped in robes were heading due south along the foot of the Dargaard Mountains after having left the keep some time ago. They were riding s
lowly, three of them high in the saddle, one hunched over from what was most likely old age.

  It wasn't uncommon for people to come and go from the keep without her knowledge-it was impossible for Lady Korinne, and Lord Soth for that matter, to know about everything that went on within the keep's walls-but for some reason Korinne's curiosity was piqued by this party of four. They didn't seem to be merchants or mercenaries and Dargaard Keep was hardly ever visited by wizards, priests or rogues.

  A curiosity to be sure.

  Suddenly, the outside of the keep was alive with the sound of hoof-beats on the wooden drawbridge spanning the chasm. A second later Lord Soth rode out of the keep followed by six knights. They quickly headed east, the trail to Vingaard Keep taking them nowhere near the other four travelers.

  Korinne watched Soth and the knights for a long time, not moving from the window until they were nearly out of sight. Before turning away, she glanced southward. The four riders heading that way were also gone.

  She turned away from the window.

  "They're gone, Mirrel," she said to her newest lady-in-waiting.

  "Begin making preparations for this evening." "Yes, milady," said

  Mirrel.

  "We'll set out after dark."

  The moons had been hanging over the keep for several hours before Korinne heard the faint knock upon her door.

  "Who is it?" she asked.

  "Mirrel."

  Korinne hurried to the door and opened it. Mirrel stood there draped in a dark cloak, a garment which would make her all but invisible in the darkness. She had a second dark cloak for Korinne. "Put it on," she said, then added, "please, milady."

  Korinne slipped into the robe and together the two women padded through the keep, taking the less-traveled routes on their way to the gatehouse.

  To Korinne's surprise, the gate was unattended, the portcullis slightly raised. "Where are the guards?"

  "I arranged for them to be away from their posts for several minutes.

  They should likewise be gone when we return."

  "But how?"

  "Don't underestimate the feminine charms of-"

  "Never mind," said Korinne, cutting off Mirrel's whispers.

  "I've already decided I don't want to know."

  "Perhaps it would be best that way, milady."

  Korinne looked at the maid, amazed by her ingenuity, efficiency and her steadfast loyalty. Despite the fact that Mirrel had been the one to inform her of Lord Soth's indiscretions, Korinne was beginning to look upon their meeting as a blessing. Although she'd been lady of the keep,

  Korinne had sorely been missing a close and loyal friend.

  Now she had one.

  They snuck through the gap left by the raised portcullis and crossed the drawbridge quickly, trying to stay out of the faint light of the moons.

  When they had reached some cover outside the keep, Korinne turned to Mirrel. "What now?"

  '"This way," said Mirrel. "There are horses waiting."

  Again, Korinne was impressed by Mirrel's thoroughness, and for the first time since she'd thought of this wild scheme, she believed it might actually have a chance of succeeding.

  They reached the horses, a pair of big and powerful black stallions.

  They mounted the horses and without a word being spoken between them, rode off into the night.

  Chapter 15

  "The power to know the thoughts within the mines of men, women and children…" mused the Kingpriest as he sat upon his throne at one end of the main hall of the temple.

  "And to put an end to those evil thoughts," he continued, "before they've even made a single step onto Evil's dark and twisted road. Is that not a power that had previously been reserved for the gods?"

  A lone acolyte sat by the Kingpriest's side. The young man seemed unsure whether the question had been a rhetorical one or not. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up. "Indeed it is, your worship."

  The Kingpriest nodded.

  The acolyte sighed, relieved he had answered the Kingpriest correctly.

  "And to sit in sole judgment of people's evil thoughts, considering the severity of those thoughts and punishing them accordingly, even with death. Is that not the kind of power that had, up until now, been reserved for the Gods of Good such as Paladine, Mishakal, Majere,

  Kirijolith, Habbakuk, Branchala and Solinari? Even the Gods of Evil:

  Takhisis, Sargonnas, Morgion, and the Gods of Neutrality: Gilean, Simon, and Reorx have been know to possess such powers."

  A pause.

  "Yes, your worship," said the acolyte.

  "But now, it is not only the gods who have that power. I have it as well. And if I, the Kingpriest of Istar, have godlike powers, then am I still a mortal being or have I ascended to the next level? Beyond mortal and toward immortal?"

  Another pause.

  "Ascended to the next level, your worship," said the acolyte, the intonation making his words sound more like a question than a statement.

  "Yes," hissed the Kingpriest. "If I have acquired the powers of the gods, then, by rights, I must be a god myself."

  The hall was deathly silent.

  The acolyte looked at the Kingpriest, nodded his head slightly and said in a trembling voice. "Yes, your worship."

  "Then I will ascend to the heavens and take my place at the right hand of Paladine. The gods will greet me with open arms and thank me for spreading virtue and goodness across the four corners of Krynn."

  The Kingpriest's eyes were looking upward, glinting with a sort of madness, as if he were looking through the stone ceiling of the temple and into the starry night sky above it.

  The Kingpriest stood up. "If I have the power of a god, then I will become a god!"

  The acolyte was silent, looking strangely at the Kingpriest.

  "A god," he repeated breathily, as if considering the possibilities.

  The acolyte lowered his head like one doomed. "Yes, your worship."

  Chapter 16

  Together, Mirrel and Lady Korinne rode south for over An hour before turning east and riding into the northern lip of a deep rift in the

  Dargaard Mountains called the Soul's Wound.

  Korinne had heard stories about the inhabitants of these mountains ever since she was a child. Although she'd always felt it hard to believe the tales while living in the comfort of her parent's home in Palanthas, such was not the case after she'd moved into Dargaard Keep.

  Everyone in the keep from the knights to the laundresses, from the squires to the cooks, could tell stories of the lost folk who supposedly lived in the most impenetrable valleys or on the most treacherous mountainsides of the Dargaard range. The lizard-like Bakali, the otherworldly Huldrefolk, the birdlike Kyrie, and the bat-like Shadowpeople. All were reported to live deep within these mountains although none of these creatures had been reliably witnessed for hundreds of years. Still, that fact did little to alter people's beliefs in them and the interior of the mountain range slowly grew to be a darkly mystical place where those who were ill-suited to blend into Solamnic society found the perfect place in which to live out their lives in peace.

  However, that didn't mean there was never any contact between the two worlds.

  When Korinne first thought of making this trip she had only a vague idea of where she might find help. Mirrel had proved helpful in this regard, securing directions and ensuring they wouldn't be turned away once they arrived at their destination.

  Their goal was a small stone cottage at the foot of a snowcapped mountain. The cottage was half-buried in earth and looked as if the mountainside had crept up to it over the past few centuries and would eventually engulf the structure with the passage of the next several hundred years.

  There was a faint yellow light shining in one of the cottage's two exposed windows. Considering the time of night, the light was a good sign that whoever lived within was expecting company.

  The two women slowed their mounts as they approached the tiny cottage, content
to walk the last little bit after what had been an especially long and hard ride.

  They secured their horses, the beasts seeming infinitely grateful for the rest, and approached the cottage's front door.

  The wooden door was slightly ajar, but Mirrel stopped Lady Korinne from pushing it open and suggested that she knock first.

  Korinne nodded at this, reminding herself that her status as lady of the keep would carry little weight in the home of a hedge witch. She pulled her robe back from her right wrist and knocked on the door with three sharp raps of her knuckles.

  There was no answer.

  "Maybe we should go," suggested Mirrel.

  Korinne knocked again.

  "Open is the door," said a gravel-throated voice. "Enter if you wish."

  Korinne looked at Mirrel and the younger woman nodded.

  Then Korinne pushed the door open and entered the cottage, Mirrel close behind her.

  The ceiling of the cottage was low, and the two women had to stoop in order to move about without bumping their heads.

  The hedge witch was sitting in an old wooden chair by a fire. The chair was oddly shaped and of a strange design that looked as if it could only be comfortable to the witch herself. Thankfully, there were two other chairs by the fire-chairs shaped for more normal postures. The witch extended a gnarled, bony hand, inviting the two women to take their seats. Korinne and Mirrel quickly sat down, grateful-like their horses-for the respite.

  In the flickering light of the fire, Korinne tried to make out the witch's features. Other than her being human, Korinne could not discern any of the witch's finer features with any clarity.

  As if the witch had read her mind, she waved a hand in the direction of the fire and the flames suddenly burned hotter. The inside of the cottage became brighter and Korinne could easily make out the crag-like texture of the witch's skin, now brought out in high relief by the contrast of light and shadow on her face. There were also several moles under the witch's chin which seemed to be in a different position each time Korinne glanced at them-a trick of the light, she surmised. And finally, she looked at the witch's eyes. They were dark, almost black, even in the bright light of the fire.