Lord Soth (39 page)

“A rider!” came the call from above. “No, a group of riders, approaching the keep.”

The knights sitting idly in the great hall of Dargaard Keep seemed to come alive at the news.

Darin Valcic was the first one to hurry up the tower to have a look for himself. “Where?” he asked when he joined the lookout stationed on the uppermost level of the keep.

Arnol Kraas, a squire, pointed east to a bit of haze rising up off the plain. “There!”

Valcic’s eyes weren’t as sharp as Kraas’s but he could still make out the telltale cloud of dust. “How many riders do you think there are?”

“Five or six,” said the squire.

Other knights began to arrive, each scanning the horizon.

“It’s them,” said Valcic.

“It’s who?” asked Kraas.

“Lord Soth and our fellow knights, of course. Prepare a proper reception and a feast for their arrival.” Valcic turned away.

“What’s that?” asked one of the knights.

“What?” Valcic asked, turning back around.

“There’s another plume of dust further away on the plain,” said the knight, pointing.

Valcic squinted and concentrated on the direction the other knight had pointed. It was difficult to make out because the dust had blended into the sky and had looked like nothing more than a rain cloud. But now that it was pointed out to him, Valcic realized it was another group of riders.

A much larger group.

Soth was being chased.

“Never mind the reception for Lord Soth,” said Valcic. “Ready the horses, bring out the armor.” A pause. “And prepare for battle.”

Usually such a call was answered by a loud and enthusiastic cheer.

This time, however, there was only silence.

“We’re gaining on them!” cried Garrett Fenton.

It was true. Despite the fact that Soth’s knights held the advantages of fewer riders, faster horses and greater motivation to reach their destination, the Solamnic Knights from Palanthas were edging ever closer. At this rate they would be on top of them in another day, perhaps even sooner.

“Yes,” agreed Eiwon van Sickle. “But will we catch them before they reach the keep?”

Fenton didn’t answer.

Instead, he kicked at his mount and shot off at a gallop.

When Soth first saw the knights approaching he was sure they had been sent northward from Vingaard Keep to intercept them. But as they came closer, he recognized the familiar shades of reds worn by the knights of Dargaard Keep and realized that, with their help, they just might make it after all.

When they finally came together, both parties stopped.

“Good to see you Lord Soth,” said Darin Valcic. “Alive and well.”

“Aye, and it’s good to see all of you. A fine sight for my tired and sore eyes.”

“Not to break up this fine reunion,” said Caradoc, “but perhaps we should ride now and greet each other later.” He turned around. “Our pursuers are nearly upon us.”

Soth looked behind him and was surprised to find that the knights from Palanthas had indeed closed the gap. If they were able to keep up their pace, they’d be upon them in a few short hours.

“Right!” said Soth. He urged his horse forward. It protested slightly, but then was off …

On the final dash to the keep.

They were minutes away from Dargaard Keep. Although still at a gallop, Soth’s horse was slowing, holding up the mounts of the others which still had some wind left in their lungs.

He kicked at the horse’s ribs. Foam was already forming at the mouth of the beast, but it valiantly tried to pick up the pace. After a few more steps it stumbled and fell forward, sending Soth hurtling hard onto the ground.

Several of the knights ahead of Soth kept riding, unaware of what was going on behind them. Those trailing stopped to help Soth to his feet.

“You can ride with me,” offered Colm Farold.

“No,” said Soth, looking at Farold’s horse. “You’ll be
lucky if the creature takes you the rest of the way to the keep.”

“You can have my mount, milord,” said Darin Valcic. “It’s as fresh as any horse in the keep and I would be honored to have it carry you to safety.”

Soth was touched by the gesture, but could not accept it because it likely meant Valcic would be giving up his life in exchange for his own. “Thank you, Knight Valcic, but I can not accept.”

“I insist.”

“I suggest you settle the matter soon,” said Caradoc. “Or neither of you will make it to the keep alive.”

Soth looked at Valcic.

Valcic nodded.

Soth mounted the knight’s horse.

And was gone.

Darin Valcic turned west to face the oncoming knights.

There were ten knights abreast at the front of the pack maybe more. Judging by the plume of dust rising up behind them they might have been six or seven deep, perhaps more than fifty knights in all.

It would be a short battle, but Valcic was determined to put up a fight worthy of a true Knight of Solamnia.

He drew his sword, held it before him with both hands.

A moment later the knights were upon him.

He held his breath …

And suddenly, the knights parted, riding around him and leaving him alone on the plains to choke on their dust.

Now on a fresh horse, Soth led his knights in the final charge toward the keep.

He looked very little like the knight who had left
Dargaard Keep little more than a week ago.

He had the appearance of a dirty and disheveled wild-man whose clothes were little more than rags. His muscular upper body was bruised and stained by the remains of rotten fruit, eggs and dirt that had been hurled at him in Palanthas. And his long black hair flowed back from his head like wildfire, putting an air of madness about him.

But despite it all, he still rode erect and proud on his mount, and his eyes …

His eyes were still as alive and piercing as ever.

Soon the knights clattered across the drawbridge and into the keep. Two of the horses who had made the trip from Palanthas stumbled their last few agonizing steps before falling in utter exhaustion.

A moment later the portcullis came crashing down and the drawbridge slowly began to rise up.

Outside, the pursuing knights brought their horses to a halt at the edge of the chasm surrounding the keep, then quickly retreated out of the range of any archers who might be waiting for them on the battlements.

“Are we going to lay siege to the keep?” asked Eiwon van Sickle, regarding the formidable structure before them.

Garrett Fenton looked to Dargaard Keep and then shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it would take far too long and require too many knights. And to what purpose?”

“So what are we going to do? Surely, High Justice Caladen isn’t going to allow Soth to get away with his crimes.”

“I’ve received instructions from the high justice. I assure you, he won’t be getting away with anything,” Fenton said.

“But how—”

“Think about it for a moment,” Fenton interrupted. “Soth has lived his life as a revered and respected knight.
Now, news of his crimes will be all over Ansalon in a matter of weeks. Anywhere he goes he will be called a murderer and mocked as a fallen knight. For a Knight of Solamnia, especially one of Soth’s stature, such a fate is worse than death itself.”

“Yes,” said van Sickle. “I can see that.” His body seemed to shiver at the thought. Still, he persisted. “But we can’t just let him go.”

“No,” Fenton said. “There will be conditions that must be met.”

Hours later, he rode slowly toward the keep under the protection of a white standard. When Fenton reached the bridge, it did not come down.

He remained seated on his mount and laid forth his conditions.

“Loren Soth,” he said loudly enough for all those on the west side of the keep to hear. “You are hereby dishonorably dismissed from the Knights of Solamnia. Furthermore, if you should ever venture outside the boundaries of Knightlund it will be the duty of every Knight of Solamnia to hunt you down like a common criminal and carry out the execution order of the high justice.”

Fenton paused a few moments. “If you understand these terms you may indicate so in an appropriate manner.”