“Weep not, my love,” he whispered. “After the required six months of mourning is observed, the keep will have another lady. And after that, there will be the arrival of another Soth child to be rejoiced.”
Isolde continued to weep …
But slowly her tears turned into those of joy.
Six months later, in the middle of Darkember, Lord Soth and Isolde Denissa were wed in the grand hall in Dargaard Keep. The wedding ceremony was a far cry from the pomp and ceremony of Soth’s first marriage to Lady Korinne, but no one in the keep thought it would be proper to have a wedding on such a grand scale so closely following the death of Korinne and her child.
Caradoc joined Soth at the altar, while Mirrel took her place by Isolde’s side. Shortly after Soth had asked her to marry him, Isolde had asked Mirrel to be her lady-in-waiting. At first Mirrel had refused the offer, but Isolde eventually managed to convince the young girl that she needed her help in order to keep things running smoothly within the keep. It would be Mirrel’s job to advise the new lady of the keep about rules of order and other matters of decorum. When it was put to her in that way, Mirrel quickly accepted the position in the hopes of somehow keeping Korinne’s memory alive for years to come.
Other prominent guests at the wedding included Istvan, who seemed to have grown even closer to Lord Soth over the last few months. Soth was almost doting on the elderly healer. Soth’s knights were also present, all thirteen of them in gleaming plate and mail armor, forming an honor guard for Soth and his bride. And finally, rounding out the wedding party, were the elf-maids who had been traveling with Isolde when they were unceremoniously attacked by ogres and subsequently rescued by Soth and his knights.
Sadly, the elf-woman who’d been escorting Isolde and her friends to Palanthas had been unable to attend. When Soth had asked why, one of the elf-maids had told him she was too sick to attend, while another had said she refused to attend because she considered the marriage to be a doomed one.
The only other person in attendance from outside Dargaard Keep was Lord Cyril Mordren, High Clerist of the Knights of Solamnia. He had been summoned from Palanthas to conduct the ceremony, but responded with surprise because he hadn’t been called to the keep to perform any burial rights following the death of Lady Korinne. Nevertheless, he performed the wedding ceremony adequately enough, although he did glance several times at Isolde’s belly which—although difficult to be certain—seemed to be heavy with child.
“You are now wed, husband and wife,” said Lord Mordren, concluding the ceremony. “You may kiss her, if you wish.”
Soth took Isolde in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.
The hall was filled with the sound of clapping hands. A polite amount of applause. Nothing more.
“Did you see her?” asked one of the serving girls as she set the plates upon the high table for the wedding feast. “Out to here.”
“Maybe she’s getting fat,” said another girl, putting the cups into place. “You know, living too well in the keep and all of that.”
“Have you ever seen a fat elf?”
“No, but …”
“I say milord sure didn’t waste any time.”
“Nooo!”
“Oh yes, and there’s others that say worse.”
The second woman stopped placing cups on the tables. “What do they say?”
The first girl looked left and right before speaking. “They say that Lady Korinne didn’t die birthing the child. They say she died after.”
“Who’s they?”
“Them that knows.”
“Who?” the second girl demanded.
“Mirrel,” the first whispered. “The elf’s lady-in-waiting herself.”
The second girl just shook her head. “No. I can’t believe it. Not milord.”
The first serving girl looked at the other, glaring. “You believe what you want. My guess is that the whole truth might never be known. All I know is that it’s been six months since milady died and if I didn’t know any better I’d say the elf is about that far along. Maybe more.”
“It can’t be.”
“Well, we’ll see. But I’ll bet a month’s wages there’ll be a little Soth running around the keep sooner than you’d expect.”
After a few moments of silence, the second girl said. “I don’t think I want to take that bet.”
“Hmmph!” said the first, satisfied she was in the right.
The two girls continued working in silence.
Darkember passed, followed by Frostkelt and Newkelt.
Over the course of the three months, Isolde’s belly swelled ever larger until one night early in the new year, she went into labor.
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!”
The cloud cover was complete now.
Thunder rolled within.
“So friends and colleagues, I implore you, since I have proven that I have powers comparable to yours, I ask that you allow me to ascend to the heavens and take my rightful place between Paladine and Mishakal as one of the greater gods of Krynn. Together, you will help me rule over Krynn so that Evil will never again dare to make its presence felt.”
The thunder grew louder.
“Take me now!” cried the Kingpriest. “Elevate me to my rightful place in the heavens and I will show you how to—”
A bone-jarring clap of thunder seemed to explode inside the clouds over the temple. The shock waves of the blast shook the temple to its foundations.
The Kingpriest struggled to keep his balance on the platform, managing to remain upright until the rumbling sound of the thunderclap had finally run its course.
“I demand that you make me one of you!” cried the Kin
gpriest.
The clouds began to roil angrily and the wind picked up, making his robes billow like flags in a storm.
“I command you!”
A bolt of lightning shot out from the clouds, hitting the Kingpriest’s platform and shattering it into a thousand splinters.
The Kingpriest toppled from his lofty perch, landing on his back and falling unconscious.
It began to rain, hard and cold.
The drops falling on the Kingpriest’s face stung his flesh like bitterly cold needles. He blinked his eyes open, saw the storm overhead and raised a clenched fist toward the heavens.
“You will come to regret this,” he cried.
Thunder boomed.
Jagged lightning pierced the blackness of the night.
“You might control the heavens, but I”—he placed a hand over his chest—“control the world.”
Another bolt of lightning shot out from the clouds, this time slamming into the slim standard-bearing tower above and behind him.
The tower began to topple.
The Kingpriest scrambled to get out of the way, and just managed to get inside before the tower crashed down onto the balcony, causing it to break away from the temple.
Chapter 21
Mirrel spent several uneventful days riding across the Solamnic Plains on her way to Palanthas. She was a capable rider and a strong young woman who could handle herself on the sometimes harsh trail to the capital of Solamnia.
She had family in Palanthas, distant relatives who would take her in for a time until she got settled in the city and began a new life for herself. That was one of the reasons she was traveling to Palanthas, but not the most important one.
The thing that drove her so swiftly across the plains was the faint hope that she would be granted a private audience with the High Justice of the Knights of Solamnia, Lord Adam Caladen. If she were somehow granted that audience, she would be able to tell Lord Caladen what she had been telling those in Dargaard Keep these past few months. Only she wouldn’t tread as lightly as she had in the keep. If she were able to speak to the high justice, she would tell him of Lord Soth’s deeds as plainly and as graphically as she could.
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