Lord Soth (31 page)

Istvan, the keep’s healer, wasn’t looking forward to bringing another child into the world, especially into the increasingly mysterious world of Dargaard Keep. Since the death of Lady Korinne the keep had become a shadow of its former self. It was no longer a place of life and vitality, but rather a place shrouded by darkness and permeated by a sense of foreboding.

But despite his personal apprehension over the matter, Istvan was bound to Lord Soth and dutifully worked to bring the new Soth offspring into being. Unlike that of Lady Korinne, Isolde’s delivery was almost effortless and without pain. Still, Istvan couldn’t bring himself to look at the child at first, afraid it might be another grotesque monstrosity. When he finally did look at it, however, he was relieved to find it was a boy, a large and healthy boy with all of his little parts in the right places, including a thick head of coal black hair just like that of his father.

So, with mother and child resting comfortably, Istvan called on Lord Soth, inviting him to join his wife and newborn child.

“Is everything all right?” asked Soth, his usually strong voice sounding somewhat unsure of itself.

“Yes,” said Istvan.

“Everything?”

“The mother and the boy are both doing well.”

“The boy?”

“Yes. A strong and healthy boy. Congratulations.” Istvan paused a moment to give Soth the chance to express his appreciation for a successful birth.

But instead of expressing his gratitude to the healer,
Soth pushed by Istvan and rushed into the room to join his wife and newborn son.

Istvan sighed and closed the door to his chambers, allowing the new family a few moments alone.

“You’re a handsome young devil, aren’t you,” cooed Mirrel as she tended to the newborn Soth. The child, a half-elf, had been named Peradur in honor of Soth’s great-great-grandfather who had been the first of the Soth clan to become a Knight of Solamnia under the command of Vinas Solamnus himself.

The child made soft, gurgling sounds. It was a happy, content baby, and Mirrel was proud that the child was doing so well. While she knew of Soth’s unfaithfulness to Korinne and it was clear the child had been conceived while Soth was still wed to Lady Korinne—indeed while she was heavy with a child of her own—Mirrel still loved the child. It was an innocent bystander faultlessly caught up in a web of deceit. And besides that, Lady Korinne had wanted so much to have a child that she would have wanted this child to grow up as if it were her own.

If anyone were to blame in this whole mess it was the hallowed Lord Loren Soth of Dargaard Keep, Knight of the Rose and philanderer of the highest order.

She’d been making her opinions known to anyone in the keep who would listen and those people numbered more and more each day. She knew it was dangerous to speak such words so freely, knew she could lose her position in the keep—perhaps even her life, judging by some of Lord Soth’s past deeds—but she couldn’t stop herself. Lady Korinne had risked everything to give her husband a child, and he had repaid her by bedding the elf while she had been bed-ridden. Then he had brutally murdered her when the child turned out to be somewhat less than healthy.

She couldn’t prove the last point, but she knew it almost
intuitively. Once the healer had told her that Lady Korinne had lived through the birth, then quickly recanted, saying he had become confused with the birth of another child that same day.

It wasn’t like the healer to make such mistakes. He was old, but his mind was still as sharp as many of his instruments. If he had been mistaken about such a subject, then there had been a reason for it. After hours of long thought over the matter, she surmised that he had told Mirrel the truth in order to circumvent his oath of loyalty to Lord Soth.

As a result she’d been busy spreading the word.

Not many had believed her at first, but over time more and more people began wondering if it might be true, and that was enough.

For now.

Eventually, she would make Soth pay for murdering Lady Korinne, but for now she was content merely to tarnish the image of the great and heroic knight. The rest would come later.

The baby swung his arms in wide arcs and laughed. “You’re going to be a good knight when you grow up, a better knight than your father is, which shouldn’t be all that hard to do.”

“Mirrel!”

Mirrel gasped at the sound of Isolde’s voice and slowly turned around. The elf was standing in the doorway. How long she’d been there Mirrel couldn’t tell, but she was fairly certain that she’d been there long enough to hear her speak poorly of milord. “Yes, milady.”

Isolde stepped into the room. She was a beautiful being, even for an elf, and many said her beauty far outshone that of Lady Korinne’s. Mirrel didn’t see it that way. In her mind, no one could match the beauty of Lady Korinne, especially inside where she had been most beautiful of all.

“I’ve heard some distressing things during my walk through the keep this morning.”

“Distressing things,” said Mirrel. “Like what?”

Isolde stepped into the room and sat down near Mirrel and the baby. “People are saying that Lady Korinne didn’t die during childbirth, but was killed after the fact.”

Obviously Isolde had paused to give Mirrel the chance to condemn such accusations, but Mirrel simply sat in silence with her hands folded on her lap.

“I’ve tried to quell the rumor, but it’s strong and still it persists.”

Mirrel knew she was treading on unsteady ground, but she decided to venture forth. After all, this could be her best chance to convince the elf of the truth. “Perhaps it’s true, then.”

“It is not!”

“What if it is?”

Isolde looked at Mirrel for a very long time. Finally, her eyes narrowed and she said, “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the one spreading the rumors, telling lies.”

“No lies, milady,” said Mirrel, realizing that if she’d gone this far, she might as well go all the way. “The truth.”

“Liar!” shouted Isolde.

Mirrel refused to be shouted down into silence. She defiantly thrust her chin forward and began to tell Isolde of her and Korinne’s midnight journey to the home of the hedge witch and the warning the old witch had made about the child’s well-being—that it depended solely on the purity of the Lord Soth’s soul.

“Enough!” cried Isolde, her hands over her ears and her head turning from side to side. “Lies, they’re all lies!”

“What possible benefit would I gain by lying?” asked Mirrel. “What reason do I have for lying, other than undying loyalty to Lady Korinne?”

“Out!” screamed Isolde.

The child had begun to cry.

“Out of my chambers! Out of this tower! Out of Dargaard Keep!”

“You can send me away,” said Mirrel getting up to
leave. “But ridding yourself of the truth won’t be as easy!”

Isolde thrust out her hand, pointing at the open door.

Mirrel left without another word.

The portcullis was raised long before Mirrel was ready to leave. Along with the guards manning the gatehouse and drawbridge, there were several of her friends waiting to say good-bye. None of them looked happy to see her go. After all, Mirrel had been one of their own, elevated in status through the sheer good graces of Lady Korinne.

“Don’t worry,” said a laundress. “You’ll be back in the keep someday soon.”

Mirrel just stared at the woman, a look of pity on her face. “What makes you think I’d want to return to such a damned and cursed keep as this?”

The women were shocked by the words, unable to say anything in reply.

“With the way things are going,” added Mirrel, “I’m lucky to be leaving while I’m still able.”

This was far truer than Mirrel liked to let on. It had been fortunate for her that Lady Isolde had had the arrogance to handle her banishment by herself. For if Isolde had gone to Lord Soth with the problem, Mirrel might have suddenly disappeared under curious circumstances, or have simply been murdered by Caradoc or one of the other knights.

“Then may Mishakal light your way,” said one of women as Mirrel headed toward the bridge.

Mirrel stopped, turned and looked at the woman. She nodded thanks and said, “And yours as well.”

Then she turned away and exited the keep.

Outside, it was late afternoon and the light of day was slowly being shrouded by the gathering darkness.

Chapter 20

The night sky was clear of clouds and the stars twinkled against
their black backdrop like diamonds under a midday sun.

The Kingpriest of Istar stood alone on the balcony of the highest tower of the temple. He was dressed in one of his finest silken robes. It was yellow and white, and bejeweled with all manner of rare gemstones, including diamonds.

He had come to address the gods.

His brethren.

He stepped up onto a platform so that he was standing above the balcony’s rail and unencumbered by such mundane man-made concerns as walls and rails and floors. He stood, almost on the air, with nothing before him but the cool night air, and nothing above him but the black star-studded night sky.

“My fellows,” he began, raising his arms over his shoulders. “I have labored for many years to bring peace to the races and tribes of Krynn; indeed it had been my life’s work. Once peace was achieved I made sure that it would last for hundreds of years, something even you as gods
could not do for the people consigned to your ever-watchful care. Further to that, I made the Proclamation of Manifest Virtue, declaring that Evil in the world was an affront to both mortals as well as we gods.”

Clouds slowly began to move in from the north and west.

“I single-handedly vanquished Evil from the face of Krynn, and further enabled Good to spread across the land by leading the Siege on Sorcery, exiling the evil mages and ensuring their wicked brand of magic would never again be used for the purposes of evil.”

The clouds continued to roll in. Many of the stars, including the brighter ones, began to wink out.

“And now, with the Edict of Thought Control, I have acquired the power to read the thoughts of the people of Istar, stopping evil deeds before they can be enacted, and thereby defeating Evil before it has a chance to make its presence known. I have put an end to Evil as we know it!”