Lord Soth (21 page)

“Lord Soth,” said the healer. “You may see him now.”

Soth rose up off the bench, his legs made stiff from the hours he’d sat there waiting.

Waiting for the birth of his son.

He entered the room. It smelled quite foul, much like a battlefield, tinged with the scent of blood and other bodily fluids. The healer’s assistants were busy changing the sheets on the lower half of the bed while the child itself was being cleaned behind a curtain in a shadowy corner of the room. His wife lay still on the bed, sleeping after what was no doubt an exhausting ordeal.

He waited.

His body hummed with anticipation.

At last the healer approached, a small bundle in his arms. He handed the bundle to Soth and the knight fumbled with it as if all his fingers had been replaced by thumbs. When he had the child steady, he raised a hand and lifted the part of
the blanket covering the child’s face.

Soth awoke with a start, his body shivering despite the fact that several warm blankets were covering him. He looked to his left and was grateful to see that his abrupt awakening hadn’t disturbed his wife. She was still sleeping as soundly as ever.

He closed his eyes and reflected upon the dream, then did his best to block it from his mind. He hadn’t been bothered by his dreams in months. This one, he decided, had been an aberration. He would not dwell on this dream as he had done with the others in the past.

He opened his eyes once more and slid out from beneath the covers, leaving Korinne to sleep because it was still well before dawn. Then he got dressed and headed down to the keep’s kitchen for a quick bite to eat.

He was met there by Meyer Seril who would be joining him on the journey back to the Knights’ Meeting. Although it was unlikely that Soth would run into trouble on the way—running into the band of ogres had been an extraordinary circumstance as it was—he preferred to have company on such an extended trip. If the Council didn’t like the fact that he’d brought an extra uninvited knight to the event, then they would have to send them both back to Dargaard Keep.

After eating their fill of fruit, eggs and cheese, Soth sent Seril to prepare the horses for the journey while he went to the healer’s chambers to check on the condition of the elf-maid.

When he reached the healer’s chambers he stepped quietly up to the door and was about to knock when the door suddenly opened up before him.

Istvan was standing there, his right index finger pressed against his lips suggesting that Soth should keep quiet. “She’s asleep,” he said in a whisper.

Soth nodded. “How is she?”

“She suffered bruises to her body, mainly to the extremities, but I suspect there were also injuries on the inside, ones which I could not see but nevertheless require an
extended period of healing.”

Soth smiled. His knights suffered such injuries all of the time and were required to get along with their daily routines as best they could while they healed. Obviously, Istvan was making a big deal about the elf-maid’s condition, certainly more than was required for her to make a complete recovery.

“You’ve done well, Istvan,” said Soth. “I look forward to seeing her completely healed upon my return.”

Istvan looked at Soth for several seconds, running his bony fingers over the coarse white stubble of his beard. And then his face brightened, as if the gist of what Soth was saying had just dawned upon him.

“I understand completely, milord.”

“Good,” said Soth. “Is there anything you are lacking that I may be able to pick up for you in Palanthas?”

Istvan smiled, then stroked his chin once again. “Let me think,” he said. “I’ve heard they have ground blue hyssop for sale in some of the finer shops in Palanthas.”

“Is this a rare herb?” asked Soth.

Istvan nodded. “One of the few I have done without.”

“Then you shall have some.”

Soth quickly left Istvan and joined Meyer Seril just inside the keep’s gate.

“All ready?”

“Yes milord, except for …” Seril gestured behind Soth with a nod.

Soth turned. Lady Korinne was standing there, a deep rose-red robe wrapped around her nightdress. Soth went to her.

“You’ve come to see me off,” he said.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have to, but the gesture is greatly appreciated.”

Korinne smiled.

Soth kissed her goodbye.

As she watched her husband ride out through the keep’s gate and over the drawbridge, Lady Korinne pulled her robe more tightly around her body. Although it was the middle of Holmswelt, the mornings inside Dargaard Keep were still quite chilly.

She contemplated the good-bye kiss her husband had given her. Like the morning, it had been cold and passionless, a kiss one might expect from a brother, cousin, or uncle.

Was her husband’s love for her waning? The thought made her shiver.

As she watched him descend onto the plain heading for Palanthas, she realized that for the first time since their marriage, Soth had left without once asking her if she was with child.

Apparently he’d meant what he’d said about not speaking of children until she was sure.

With that thought, the morning air seemed even colder.

Once Soth and Meyer Seril were out of sight of the keep, Lady Korinne postponed returning to her chambers and made a trip to the healer’s chambers instead.

When she arrived she knocked lightly on the wooden door, making sure to be careful not to disturb anyone who was not yet awake. After a short wait she knocked again. When there was still no answer, she tried the door. Much to her surprise, it opened.

Korinne looked down the hall in both directions before entering the chambers. Inside the sunlight that was usually shining brightly through the windows at this time of day was blocked by fabrics that had been draped over the openings. The deep reds and greens of the fabrics gave the room a soft and comfortable glow.

Korinne waited just inside the door for several moments, waiting for Istvan to appear from the shadows as he was sometimes known to do. But as time passed, it became obvious that Istvan was not here. Perhaps he had gone for breakfast, or was preparing some mixture. Whatever the reason, he’d left the elf-maid alone.

It was too good an opportunity to miss. Korinne moved deeper into Istvan’s chamber and searched for the elf-maid. She was sleeping on a bed at the far end of the room, covered to the neck by a light-colored blanket. Korinne moved closer in order to get a better look at the maid.

When she was standing next to the bed, Korinne felt her heart sinking like a stone in a river. The elf-maid was beautiful, a stunning example of the sort of elven beauty that had made the race famous throughout Krynn for their grace, comeliness and elegance.

How could a human woman compare to a creature possessing such fair skin and hair, such a lithe and supple form? How could a human woman compare herself to an elf-maid?

Korinne thought of that for a moment.

And let out a little laugh.

How foolish could she be? How
could
she compare herself to an elf-maid? There was no comparison. Surely her husband was aware of that fact. Korinne was still young and it would be many years before her own beauty began to fade. And even if Lord Soth found the elf-maid attractive, she was still his wife and according to the Oath and the Measure that was a bond that was as highly honored and respected as the one linking him to the knighthood.

What’s more, Korinne was in the prime of her life, ready and more than willing to produce an heir to the much-heralded Soth family name. It would make their union complete, draw her even closer to him.

Ready and willing, she thought.

But unable.

The worry that had fled her heart and mind just seconds earlier, came back with a vengeance.

She turned to leave the healer’s chambers, her hand groping the wall in order to keep herself steady as she walked.

Chapter 12

The city of Istar seemed barren
.

Lifeless.

The elderly mage moved through the streets, his thoughts wandering aimlessly, much in the same way as did his feet.

When the Kingpriest first introduced The Edict of Thought Control it had sounded like such a good idea. Indeed, how better to prevent evil deeds than to put an end to evil thoughts?

How better to stop a rose from blooming than to nip it in the bud?

What had sounded good in theory had turned into a nightmare in practice. Since the introduction of the edict, children had lost their parents, wives had lost their husbands, and husbands had lost their wives.

And for what?

For evil thoughts that might or might not have manifested themselves into evil deeds. The edict lacked any consideration for the faculties of human reason and self-control.
It was based on the belief that human beings were little more than animals who acted upon every impulse and instinct without consideration for any of the consequences of their actions.

Such was simply not the case.

People were basically good at heart. Sometimes the evil side of them came to the surface, but that was just a part of being human.

But despite all these thoughts, the mage continued to practice his craft on behalf of the Kingpriest in the hopes that the Kingpriest would eventually realize the damage his edict was doing to the people of Istar. Once that happened, surely he would revoke the edict and life would return to something resembling normalcy.

In the meantime, he continued to read minds.

Up ahead in the middle of the street a mother was scolding her child for dropping a bag of fruit onto the ground. This, after the child had assured his mother that he would not let the bag touch the ground until they reached home.

The mage read the mind of the mother. There were no evil thoughts there, just a proper reprimand and instruction so that a similar incident wouldn’t be happening again any time soon. She finished her talk with a single slap on the boy’s behind, sort of as an exclamation mark to her impromptu lecture.

And then the mage read the mind of the child. To his surprise, the young boy’s mind was full of evil thoughts toward his mother.

I hate you … And I’m going to hurt you like you hurt me … Then you’ll be sorry
.

Evil thoughts to be sure.

But they were the thoughts of a child, an innocent who understood nothing about what he thought or did.

What then, would constitute suitable punishment for such thoughts?

If the mage reported the boy to the Kingpriest, the lad might be sentenced to death. That had been the punishment
prescribed to adults who’d had similar thoughts.

But, to execute a child?

The thought made the mage sick to his stomach.

He watched the mother and child continue on down the street as if the incident had already been forgotten.

He read both their minds once more.

There was love there. Strong love. All the boy’s evil thoughts were gone.

His evil thoughts had been … harmless.

The mage stood in the middle of the street thinking about what he should do. By order of the Kingpriest, he was bound to report all the evil thoughts he had read. But, he couldn’t bring himself to report the boy and have him taken from his mother, a woman who obviously loved him more than anything else in the world.