They were currently in Old City, which was made up of the Hall of High Justice, the ancient library of Astinus, the palace, homes for the Knights of Solamnia and other structures important to the city's defense, politics and finances.
In a few minutes the procession passed through the wall that separated Old City from the newer parts of Palanthas.
On the other side of the wall, the streets were wider and less crowded and the air seemed fresher, cleaner and infinitely more breathable.
Soth took a deep breath… And was hit hard on the side of the head by a rotten egg.
It was the first of many.
The wheel-like layout of Palanthas proved to be of benefit to Soth's knights. Because all of the city's roads led to its center, each of the knights could take a different route to the execution site and therefore inconspicuously arrive as a group and remain unnoticed until it was time to free Soth and make good their escape.
Meyer Seril had volunteered to follow the route that Lord Soth would be taking. He joined the procession as it emerged from the wall separating the old and new cities, then fell into line with the others following.
Despite the fact that Seril had been wearing his helm and looked like most of the other Knights of Solamnia in the procession, Soth had recognized the three white stockings on his mount and nodded to Seril as he passed.
Seril had given a slight nod, acknowledging Soth.
After that, Soth held his head even higher, despite the fact that he was continuously being pelted with rotten eggs and tomatoes, even several hardened cakes of dried horse dung.
It broke Seril's heart to see his lord being treated in such a way. When he saw a commoner to his right throwing an egg-an egg which hit Soth squarely in the back-Seril moved his horse forward until it was in front of the offending peasant. Then he pulled hard on his reins, forcing the horse to miss a step and kick with his hind legs in order to regain its balance.
The horse's right rear hoof shot up from the ground, catching the man in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backward through the air.
Seril looked back and saw him lying flat on his back, struggling to regain his feet, but unable to do so.
"Beg your pardon," said Seril apologetically. "Are you all right?"
The commoner was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer.
Colm Farold was the first of Soth's knights to arrive at the city's center square-the execution site. He had traveled in from the southeast corner of the city and therefore had the shortest distance to cover.
Shortly after Farold, Caradoc appeared from the road leading in from due south. Then Wersten Kern came in from the north, leading a second horse by its reins. It was a large horse, and appeared to be strong enough for the task that would be asked of it. But despite the horse's obvious size and strength, it lacked the same lineage as the mounts belonging to the Knights of Solamnia. When they set out across the Solamnic Plains the horse would inevitably fall behind. The question was, how long would it be before that happened?
As more of his loyal knights began to appear in the square, Soth seemed to become more defiant. Indeed, he was standing straighter now and did not flinch when struck by the rotten projectiles thrown by the angrier members of the crowd.
His long black hair was tangled and matted, pasted against his dirty flesh in some spots, but standing up on end and looking as ragged as wildfire in others. His hard, muscled body was mottled by splotches of red, green and yellow, giving him the appearance of a barbarian in war paint rather than a disgraced Knight of the Rose.
The cart Soth was standing on slowly moved into place next to the execution platform. On the platform, the black helmed executioner patiently waited for his victim to be brought into position. Although the sky was still overcast, the executioner's huge double-sided axe still glinted menacingly in the sunlight that managed to break through the clouds.
As the cart came to a stop, Caradoc clenched the reins of his mount more tightly in his fist. It was up to him to give the signal to the rest of the knights.
Caradoc checked the position of the sun, then made a final survey of the scene. Off to the right, the higher officials had yet to take the places that had been set aside for them. There were knights along the fringes of the crowd, but none seemed to be paying too much attention at present because nothing much was happening and the thought of Soth attempting to escape was probably the furthest thing from their minds.
Caradoc looked at each of Soth's knights in turn. Each one nodded slightly, signifying they were ready. Then he glanced at Lord Soth; he looked anxious to make good his escape.
Caradoc raised his hands, gesturing at Soth to be patient.
A commotion erupted at one edge of the square as the high justice, high clerist, and high warrior appeared.
Caradoc waited for them to near their places, then gestured with a slightly upraised finger to a woman standing on the opposite side of the square.
"My baby!" she cried. "Someone's taken my baby!"
Attention suddenly swung from one end of the square to the other as everyone began looking around them in search of the woman's lost child.
Caradoc lifted his hand high in the air, signaling to the other loyal knights that it was time to make their move.
In seconds Wersten Kern rode up to the execution platform and leaped onto it. Without hesitation he gripped the executioner's huge double-sided axe in his left hand and brought his armored right hand around for a hard blow directly to the executioner's exposed chin.
The man dressed in black stumbled backward, then fell off the platform onto the people below.
Before the executioner had landed on a single spectator, Kern had swung the axe around and was chopping at the chains connecting Soth to the post. After several blows it was obvious it would take too long to cut through the heavy forged steel.
"Cut the post," urged Soth. "At the bottom."
Seril quickly began directing his efforts on the post itself. Two
… three… four blows and the post came free, leaving the bottom of it splintered with several jagged edges.
Soth immediately grabbed hold of the post and began to swing it like a club, knocking down the first two Solamnic knights who had climbed onto the cart in an attempt to stop the escape.
"This way, milord!" shouted Kern, leaping off the platform and onto his horse.
Soth was still shackled to the post and couldn't hold it anywhere but at the one end to which he was chained. He did his best to hold it high in front of him as he leaped from the cart to the platform.
Another knight scrambled up from below the platform.
Soth blocked the knight's sword with the heavy post, but could not move it quickly enough to use it like a sword.
He blocked another blow from the sword, then swung the post in a long circular motion, knocking the knight off the platform as if using an arm to sweep earthenware from the top of a dinner table.
Soth then leaped onto his horse, kicking at the beast's ribs even before he was settled onto its back. As the horse lunged forward into the crowd, Soth rested the post on his shoulder, giving his exhausted arms the chance to recover, but still keeping the makeshift weapon at the ready.
Colm Farold and the other knights were busy keeping back the Solamnic
Knights of Palanthas. If any broke through their ranks they might be able to block off Soth's escape route.
Surprise had definitely worked to their advantage.
Several of the Palanthas knights were unprepared for fighting and hesitant to engage Soth's knights given that they were fully armored and fighting more fiercely than any opponents the knights of Palanthas had ever come up against.
As Soth raced through the crowd with Wersten Kern leading the way, a
Palanthas knight rode up alongside Soth.
Soth looked over at the knight and recognized him as Sword knight Eiwon van Sickle.
"What are you doing?" van Sickle shouted. "You are making a
mockery of the Oath and the Measure."
"According to the high justice, I did that long ago. What more damage can I possibly do?"
Knight van Sickle raised his sword. "Stop at once and face your destiny like a true knight!"
Soth laughed at that, his eyes opening wide and filling with a new bright and fiery madness. "My destiny lies far beyond the walls of this dying city," he said as he rode through the streets of Palanthas. "One day my name will be known from Palanthas to Istar, from Ergoth to
Balifor."
"Your destiny lies in Palanthas," said van Sickle.
"Prepare to meet it." The young knight swung his sword with both hands.
Soth held the post up high by his chains, the jagged end pointing to the ground. The thick wooden post blocked the blow, forcing van Sickle to raise his sword for another strike.
At the same time, Soth brought the post back and swung it in a great circle, catching van Sickle squarely in the back. The blow knocked him forward, over the head of his horse. He hit the ground heavily, was trampled by the horse, and was lost in a cloud of dust.
Soth hefted the post back onto his shoulder and hurried to catch up with
Kern and the others.
They had cleared the city streets and were now in the open area between
Palanthas and the High Clerist's Tower. Hopefully the knights stationed there were unaware of what was happening.
Unfortunately, the knights guarding the tower looked to be out and about. Up ahead, several of them were already looking in Soth's direction to see what all the commotion was about. No doubt they had heard the sound of the charging horses. There were also lookouts positioned in the tower.
If the knights weren't ready for them now, they would be by the time they reached the tower.
Soth took a moment to look behind him.
There was a party of knights there too, charging hard and appearing to be gaining ground.
Up ahead, Caradoc rode in the lead of the escaping knights. Colm Farold struggled to catch up with him.
"There are too many ahead," said Farold breathlessly as he came alongside Caradoc. "Surely they'll cut us down as we try to break through their ranks." Caradoc said nothing, and continued to ride hard because there were just as many knights behind them as ahead. It was obvious something had to be done, but what? He was Soth's seneschal and had become accustomed to taking orders in Soth's presence, not giving them.
"The mountains!"
The voice came from somewhere behind.
Caradoc looked back and realized the words had come from Lord Soth himself.
"The mountains!" Soth shouted.
Caradoc slowed slightly in order to let Soth catch up.
"Head for the mountains. There are too many of them for us to fight."
Caradoc thought about it. It was a good plan. The knights could survive for months in the mountains, where there were an infinite number of places to hide. And, the longer they stayed in the mountains, the better they could prepare for their ride across the plains. Caradoc nodded and sped back up to the front of the line of knights, then suddenly broke left.
Heading north.
The rest of the knights followed.
"We're gaining on them!" cried Garrett Fenton, the first Solamnic Knight to pick up the chase out of Palanthas.
Behind Fenton, seven other knights were on horseback.
More would follow. Up ahead he could see the knights stationed at the High Clerist's Tower were also mounting up.
Soth and his knights were insane if they thought they could get away.
"We'll have them in another minute!"
But suddenly the fleeing group diverged from the trail, turning left and heading into the mountains.
Fenton jabbed his horse in the ribs, hoping to coax the beast into running just a little bit faster. But his horse was already up to top speed. It continued at the exhausting pace for another few minutes until
Fenton and the other knights had reached the spot where Soth and his
Knights had turned.
They turned as well, riding into the rough terrain and forests at the foot of the mountains.
But after a few minutes they slowed, unsure which pass their adversaries had taken. Finally they stopped.
The escaping knights had vanished into the mountains.
Fenton turned to face the other knights. "Post lookouts in the tower.
They'll try and head to Dargaard Keep before long. When they do, we'll have a party of knights ready to ride."
"It's true milady," said Knight Valcic. "We've heard the news now from several sources."
Soth and his knights had been gone for over a week, but only now was Isolde hearing of her husband's fate in the Hall of High Justice.
"There's a good chance he's still alive," said Valcic, obviously trying to look on the brighter side of things.
"They say he's hiding out in the mountains."
"Thank you, Knight Valcic," said Isolde, dismissing the young man with a wave of her hand. Then she walked over toward her bed and fell down on top of it.
Lord Soth, Knight of the Rose, she thought.
Outlaw!
It was hard to believe that one so respected and revered could fall so hard, so far, so fast.
And for what? The murder of Korinne and the child.
Ridiculous! She was sure of it.
Lord Soth had saved her life, had spent all of his life fighting for the cause of Good.
Something was wrong about all of this. When he returned to Dargaard
Keep, she would ask him about it.
And then they would begin the process of clearing his good name.
Yes, that was it. That's what she would do.
She brought her hands together, intertwined her fingers, and prayed to Mishakal for guidance.
Somehow, she knew, the Healing Hand would provide it.
Chapter 25
Brin Scoville rubbed his full belly after eating his fill of yet another satisfying dinner prepared by his wife. While he had toiled the entire day in the fields, she had labored within their modest kitchen making not only that evening's supper, but dozens of jars full of jams and other preserves.
It was hard work, but necessary to get them through the coming harsh winter on the plains.
And for some unknown reason, this winter seemed to have the makings of one of the worst yet. Scoville wasn't sure how he knew this. Perhaps it was his aching corns, or the stiff soreness down the length of his back, or the wintry sniffles that had come a few weeks early this year.
Whatever the reason, Scoville knew it was going to be a long, cold winter. Best to be prepared.
He watched his son and daughter play with a set of wooden blocks on the rug in front of the fireplace. They were darling children, quiet and well-mannered with a bright and happy future ahead of them. Sometimes,
Scoville would watch them play for hours, just for the simple pleasure of it.
Just then his wife brought his pipe and some tobacco to the table. He looked at the pipe, then at his wife, and smiled. "Thank you, dear."
She simply nodded and continued clearing the dishes.
With a practiced hand, Scoville rolled up the bowl of his pipe-not too tightly-and went to the stove. He searched for some glowing embers with which to light his pipe.
To his surprise the fire had gone out and the coals were cold. "Wasn't there just a fire in the hearth?" he asked.
His wife turned around and looked strangely at the dead black coals. "I just finished cooking; they should be red hot."
Scoville put his hand over the ashes, then poked at them with his finger.
Cold as ice.
In fact the entire house seemed to be chilled.
"Papa," said his son. "The floor is getting cold. Could you light a fire for us?"
It was still too early to begin lighting fires in the main fireplace, but without a fire in the kitchen there was nothing else to keep them warm.
"I can do wi
thout a fire in here," said the wife. "Light the fire for the children and we'll all go to bed warm tonight." "Right," said
Scoville, moving into the main room to be with his children. "Well now, who wants to help?" "Me," said the boy.
"I do," said the girl.
Together the children piled leaves and kindling onto the hearth while
Scoville worked a piece of flint.
But the flint did not spark. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he used against the flint, it simply would not spark.
He continued to try, without success.
The sun began to set.
Darkness and cold descended upon the house.
"Come now, Brin, children," said the wife. "We'll be warm enough in bed."
The two children, chilled by the long wait, were more than eager to retire to the warmth of their clean flannel sheets and heavy woolen blankets.
Scoville continued to try to light the fire long into the night.
He went to bed tired, cold and at an utter loss as to the cause of the lack of spark or flame.
Something wasn't right, he concluded.
Chapter 26
Under the cover of a jutting rock face and shaded by a thick stand of fir trees, Meyer Seril examined the broad blades of the axe he'd taken from the executioner. One side had been pitted by his attempts to cut the chains in the central square of Palanthas. The other side, however, was still finely honed. He turned this side of the axe around to use it as the cutting edge.
"Swing the axe as hard as you can," said Lord Soth, kneeling on the ground, his shackled wrists resting on the sides of the post so that the chain lay squarely across the wood. "I trust you, Knight Seril."
Seril nodded to Soth, thankful for the vote of confidence.
The chain was made of heavy steel and would require a tremendous blow from the axe to cut it. The axe was designed to cut through flesh and bone, not steel. The first blow would likely ruin the blade, so he might as well make it a good one.
He raised the axe over his head. It wavered there for a brief moment, then came streaking down. There was a sharp clink of metal striking metal.
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