Lord Soth (17 page)

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 Krejlgaard, 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 many 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
“interesting.” And now they were talking about weaponry, a subject that would have much attention paid to it when they reached the Knights’ Meeting.

Soth was of a mind that there was more to weapons than simply a broadsword and shield. While they would always be the chosen weapon of the Knights of Solamnia for close man-to-man fighting, there were other weapons in development across the continent that would prove most effective should there ever be another large-scale war.

“A broadsword is a fine weapon,” said Soth. “No doubt about it, but the great Huma Dragonbane proved that battling certain enemies requires specialized weaponry.”

“Perhaps,” said Caradoc, obviously not ready to fully concede his point.

“Take elven weapons for example,” Soth continued. There were still many long hours ahead of them and conversations didn’t necessarily have to end just because the other party was partially in agreement. “I hear talk that they have developed several types of arrowheads for use with their crossbows: a narrow spiked head for piercing armor; a heavy ironwood head for bashing; a razor-sharp Y-shaped head for cutting ropes, banners, legs and arms; a flanged leaf-shaped head for inflicting the maximum amount of damage; and a “singing” head that is fitted with a hollow tube that creates a piercing shriek when it’s fired.”

“Really?” Caradoc’s eyes opened wide, perhaps in terror of the weapon, perhaps in amazement over its ingenuity.

“Yes, a dreadful weapon if there ever was one.”

“I would be interested in seeing such a weapon.”

“Eiwon van Sickle has told me that there will be examples of them on display in Palanthas. Demonstrations are scheduled as—”

Soth’s words were cut off by a scream.

A woman’s scream.

Instinctively, all the knights stopped in their tracks and listened for the sound again.

Moments later there was another scream, this one more faint and less sharp than the first. It was coming from somewhere up ahead and to the left. Soth looked in the direction and saw that the trail crested slightly in the distance. On the left of the trail the tops of several trees could be seen peaking over the horizon. The dip on the other side of the crest had to be fairly deep considering that the valley had given rise to a small forest in the midst of the plain.

There was yet another scream, this one different from the first two. Obviously there was more than one woman in peril.

Without a word, Soth gave his mount a kick in the ribs.

The large, black horse shot forward and was quickly running at full speed toward the forest.

And without even losing a step, the knights were right there with him, three on each side.

Soth slowed as he came over a crest. Below he could see what looked to be an encampment. It was a small clearing at the edge of the forest, a place where many travelers had rested on the road between Palanthas and Dargaard Keep. Except these travelers were not resting. Judging by their screams, it sounded as if they were being tormented.

But by whom?

Soth cut to the left and headed for the edge of the forest in the hopes that the knights could reach the woods without being seen. After slowing to assess the situation, he stepped up the pace again. Time appeared to be of the essence.

Upon reaching the edge of the forest, Soth gestured to Colm Farold to take two knights around the other side of the woods while Soth and the three remaining knights went to investigate what was going on in the clearing.

The forest was small and in no time Soth and his knights had circled back to the clearing. When the camp came into view, things suddenly became clearer.

Much clearer.

Whoever had made camp had been ambushed by a
small party of ogres. Soth could see one of the brutes, holding someone to the ground. The screams coming from the person beneath the ogre sounded muffled, yet the terror contained within the scream was real.

Soth dismounted and ran to where the ogre wrestled to subdue his victim. Drawing his sword as he approached, he gave the brute a kick to the ribs to announce his arrival.

That seemed to get the ogre’s attention.

He rolled off his victim and onto the grass. An elderly elf-woman lay on the grass, eyes wide with fright, body trembling in fear.

The ogre held his midsection tightly and struggled to catch his breath. When he looked up and saw Soth towering over him, he searched the ground for his weapon, but it was too far away to be of any use. Quickly he stood up and prepared to fight Soth with his bare hands.

Soth wasn’t about to battle an unarmed opponent with his broadsword, but then what constituted a fair fight with an ogre? Thankfully, the ogre settled the matter himself by picking up a sturdy nearby branch, using it as a pike.

The ogre thrust the branch forward, but Soth was able to deflect the blows with his shield. Then the ogre decided to sweep the ground with the branch hoping to knock Soth off his feet. Soth was able to step quickly enough to avoid the sweeping branch, then managed to go on the offensive while the ogre was bringing the branch back into position.

Wielding his sword with a single hand, Soth brought it straight down upon the ogre. But instead of splitting the beast in two, the blow was blocked by the branch, which only chipped and splintered.

After several near misses for each of the combatants, Soth was able to execute another overhanded blow. Again the ogre protected himself with the branch, but this time the blow broke it in two, giving the ogre two too-short clubs and rendering him once again weaponless.

This time, however, Soth had no qualms about battling
an unarmed ogre. While the ogre was still looking dumbfounded at the broken wood in his hands, Soth lunged forward running the beast through with his sword.

After crying out in pain, the ogre looked at Soth with a mix of shock and terror for several long moments before Soth wiped the look from his face with a backhanded swipe of his shield. The ogre’s eyes suddenly glazed over and turned upward as he fell heavily to the ground.

Dead.

Wasting little time, Soth ran to the elderly elf-woman who had been helped off the ground by Darin Valcic and Zander Vingus. Apparently, as Soth had been finishing off the ogre, they’d made sure she wasn’t in any danger, then ventured into the forest in search of more of the foul beasts.

“Are you all right?” Soth asked, seeing a thin line of blood running down from her pointed left ear.

“I think so,” she nodded, her eyes staring blankly before her. “We’re on pilgrimage to Palanthas,” she said. “To become Revered Daughters of Paladine.” A sigh. “We stopped here for the night. We were just about to begin our prayers when … when … they came.”

“How many ogres were there?” asked Soth, his voice as calm and soothing as he could make it under the circumstances.

“Five or six. Maybe more. It was so hard to tell, they all look so much alike. Hideous, horrible …” The shock of her ordeal was beginning to settle in and she began to weep.

Soth had to know one last thing.

“How many in your party?”

“Five. Myself and … four young maidens.” She drew in a sudden gasp in realization. “Oh merciful Mishakal! What’s become of them?”

Soth knew the woman needed further comfort, but there were others in greater danger. If there were ogres in the forest, his six knights would need all the help they
could get in finding and defeating them.

“Will you be all right on your own for a short while?”

The question seemed to give the elf-woman reason to compose herself. She sniffed once and nodded. “Go find the others. Ill be well enough.”