Lord Soth (42 page)

On Sancrist Island …

The gnomes and humans watched in awe as the normally blue skies above the island roiled and blackened while the long-dormant volcano beneath Mount Nevermind began to rumble uneasily.

In Qualinesti …

Unstoppable brushfires burned through Wayreth Forest, eating up vast tracts of healthy oaks, maples, ash and vallenwood trees, as well as the fruit-laden orchards of apple, peach and pear trees.

In Silvanesti …

Fires raged through the fabled Silvanesti Woods, the intense flames and black smoke blocking out all evidence of the sun.

In Ergoth …

Water flowed through the lands in and around the city
of Daltigoth, flooding farms and forests alike, but also washing away homes and buildings, many of which had stood for centuries.

In Istar …

People scurried to find a safe place to hide from the flooding red tides that began to wash through the city’s streets like blood after a hard and long-fought battle.

In Solamnia …

The wind began to pick up over the plains, churning the waters of the Vingaard River and blowing sand and dust across the sun-dried earth as if in an attempt to scour it clean.

Chapter 30

“It is a heavy price to pay,” said Soth
.

“I know,” said Isolde calmly. “But think of the change it could bring, if not for all the people of Krynn, then for your son.”

Soth wasn’t as disappointed by Isolde’s words as he was surprised. Since she’d had the vision, she had been steadfast in her conviction. She desperately wanted him to travel to Istar and give up his life in order to prevent the coming Cataclysm. Soth wasn’t afraid of sacrificing his life for others because his current life wasn’t worth all that much to him. What surprised him was Isolde’s seeming lack of concern about what her life would be like without him.

“And what of you and our son? Will you have the strength to go on without me in your life?”

Isolde moved forward and hugged him long and hard. “It will be so very hard, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to live without you, but I must try to be strong.” She paused. “For I do know that when you succeed, you will forever
be a part of both of our lives because we will have you to thank for them.”

Tears streamed from Isolde’s eyes as she held him tight.

Soth thought about her words. It was true what Isolde had said. If he succeeded, all the people of Krynn would have him to thank for their lives.

But what of Isolde and the boy? She seemed heartbroken that he would never be coming back, yet was still brave enough to admit that it was for the best.

At last the scales had been tipped.

Soth would travel to Istar.

“But to give his life—” said Derik Grimscribe, chewing on a piece of day-old bread.

“To do so in order to save all of Krynn from death and destruction,” interjected Colm Farold between sips of tea. “Certainly that is a worthy enough reason to make such a sacrifice.”

The knights sat around a rectangular table discussing the latest news. Apparently their lord had been shown a way to redeem himself, restore his good family name and become a hero equal in stature to the great Huma himself.

But while most of the knights were eager to have the honor of their lord restored to its full and even greater glory, there were those who were skeptical about the vision and the quest it proposed.

Perhaps it was the messenger of whom they were wary. Not all of the knights were as taken by Isolde Denissa as Soth was.

Perhaps it was the price Soth had to pay in order to complete the quest. Why did Soth have to die at the hands of the Kingpriest? Couldn’t the Cataclysm be avoided in a way that wouldn’t cost Soth his life? Questions had arisen that caused some of the knights to doubt the validity of the vision, and suggested to them that it was all an elaborate
ruse concocted by the high justice to carry out the death sentence imposed upon Soth. Others felt it was a vision sent by the Kingpriest himself because Soth was probably the only knight who was strong enough and brave enough to stop the priest’s bid to take his place among the gods.

“He’s being used as a pawn in a power struggle that doesn’t concern him,” said Grimscribe.

“No,” countered Farold. “He’s being given a chance to save himself and the knighthood.”

“Save himself,” laughed Grimscribe. “How can you say that if he must give up his life in order to succeed?”

“Because if he is successful and saves Krynn from the Cataclysm, he will not have died in vain. He will live forever, a hero to all.”

Soth knocked on the door of the knights’ chambers for Wersten Kern and Meyer Seril. It was a big room with the space needed to store their armor, swords, shields and other personal belongings. There was a bed at each end of the room and a desk in the center for reading and writing. There was also a table and two chairs in between the beds.

Kern and Seril were both seated at the table, passing the time by playing a board game called Briscopa that had apparently become quite popular in Palanthas.

The two knights looked up at Soth and he bowed slightly, realizing that he was intruding upon their leisure time. “Please excuse the intrusion.”

“No intrusion at all,” said Seril.

“Please come in, milord,” said Kern.

“Thank you.” He stepped into the room and sat on the bed between them. He looked at Meyer Seril. “Excuse me, Knight Seril, but the reason I’m here is to ask something of Knight Kern.”

“Of course,” said Seril, getting up from his seat. “We can finish the game anytime.”

Soth waited until Seril had left the room before speaking. “I’ve decided to take on the quest,” he said, his voice still somewhat unsteady, as if he were still trying to accept his own decision. “I will be setting out for Istar in the morning”—he paused for a heartbeat—“and I’d like you to join me.”

Kern was speechless.

“Understand that while I am asking this, the decision to accompany me is completely voluntary. If you wish to remain in the keep, no one will ever know of your decision and I will not look upon you with any disfavor.”

Kern still said nothing.

“The only others I have asked to join me are Caradoc and Colm Farold. And now you. My three most loyal knights.”

At last Kern swallowed and was able to speak. “I’d be honored, milord,” he said in a rush of breath.

Soth nodded and placed a hand on Kern’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

The sun shone brightly over the jagged peaks of the Dargaard Mountains as if Mishakal herself, the Healing Hand, was showing Soth the way.

Unlike his departures in the past, there were few people present to see him off. The knights were there, of course, some wishing they could accompany Soth, others no doubt happy to be left behind.

Isolde was present, dressed in a dark rose-colored gown which she wore as a show of support for her husband’s quest. If she was saddened by the prospect of Soth’s departure, her faith in Mishakal and her own strength of character were helping her to hide it well.

Soth hoped some of that strength would be passed on to
his son. It would serve him well in his later years as a Knight of Solamnia. Soth realized that such a thought was something of a wild fantasy, given that the Knights of Solamnia would never accept the half-breed son of a disgraced knight. But, if his quest were successful, if he saved Krynn from the ravages of the Cataclysm, there might be a chance for his son.

He approached Isolde, took her hand in his. “Speak well of me to the boy.”

“I will.”

“And make sure you tell him that I gave my life as much for him as for the all people of Krynn.”

“I won’t have to tell him,” said Isolde. “Minstrels and storytellers will sing it to him wherever he may go.”

Soth nodded, and leaned forward to kiss her.

As the kiss ended, Isolde lowered her head, covered her face with her hands and wept softly.

Soth resisted the urge to try and comfort her—it was too late for that now—and moved on to the maid who held Peradur in her arms. He took the bundled child from her, held him close to his face and whispered, “When you grow older, don’t curse me for abandoning you. I am doing this for you because I know your world will be a better place without me in it.”