Madness roiled in the pit of Soth's belly, slowly making its way to his brain. "Take it!" Soth said to Istvan, holding the child out to the healer.
"What's wrong?" asked Korinne.
"So you think the beast beautiful, do you?" Soth shouted.
"Have you been so blinded by love for the devouring dark that you can't even see the evil offspring you've created?"
"What?" cried Korinne, struggling to sit up. "Let me see him. Let me see my boy!"
"Boy?" said Soth, walking over to Istvan and snatching the blanket from his hands. He unwrapped the child and held it high above his head. "Is this your boy? Or is this the product of monstrous infidelity, evil faithlessness?"
Korinne simply looked at the child, blinking in disbelief.
Her mind was reeling. Finally she shook her head. "No, I've always been faithful to you."
"Liar!" He shook the child as he spoke and Istvan quickly retrieved it.
"I have been, I swear to you!" repeated Korinne.
"Then how do you explain that… that monster?"
"My boy?" Korinne asked, looking to Istvan.
She paused in confusion and then suddenly her face became a mask of terror. She turned her wide eyes upon her husband. "It's your fault. You were the one who created it!" "Has your lover made you mad as well?" shouted Soth.
"Your seed wouldn't give me a child, so I paid a visit to the hedge witch who gave me a child… the child you couldn't produce."
"So, it's born of the blackest sort of magic," Soth hissed.
"No, the blackest of souls," replied Korinne.
For a moment, Korinne's words sent a spike of fear through Soth's heart.
"Istvan," he called. "Leave the room. Now."
Istvan made ready to leave, carrying the child.
"Leave it there!"
Dutifully, Istvan set the child in the bassinet and left the room, locking the door behind him.
Soth turned to face Korinne.
"What madness moves your tongue?"
Korinne was in tears. "The witch told me the health of the child would depend on the purity of your soul. I knew you'd been intimate with the elf, but I could never imagine you'd done so much evil in your life that you could produce such a… such a…" Her voice trailed off and she began to sob openly.
Soth looked at her, the words causing a sudden touch of fear to become mixed in with his rage. If it were true, if the child's health depended on his virtue, it was no wonder that it had been born a… A sort of madness began to seep into his mind as he realized that, as much as he'd tried to avoid them, his father's sins had become his, had become his child's.
The sins of the father, passed on from generation to generation.
"What have you done?" Korinne shouted between sobs.
"What black deed have you done?"
Soth's eyes narrowed as he glared at Korinne. The sudden shock he'd felt at her words had been erased by rage.
And now, utter madness was overtaking him. A potent mixture of rage, anger, jealousy, and self-hate. It consumed him like flame, controlled his actions.
Without answering her question, he drew a dagger from the belt around his waist and held it before him in his fisted right hand.
"What… what are you doing?" she screamed, her eyes wide with terror.
"No, please-"
He was at one with the madness now.
As he moved toward Korinne, the sounds of her screams were suddenly mixed with the sickeningly hoarse grunts of the newborn child.
Minutes later there was only silence.
Caradoc and Istvan had been waiting outside the chamber while Soth was inside with his wife and newborn child.
Why Soth wanted to be alone in the room, particularly without the help of the healer, Caradoc didn't know.
What he did know was that if Soth wanted to be alone in the room, then it was up to him to make sure he remain undisturbed.
When Korinne's screams began, Istvan abruptly got up from where he sat and desperately wanted to gain access to the chambers. It was his job, after all, to heal the sick and ease the suffering of those in pain. But rather than allow him entrance to the room, Caradoc had moved in front of the door, blocking Istvan's way.
"Perhaps it would be best to wait until milord calls you back inside."
Istvan had been troubled by this, and well he should, thought Caradoc, because there was something strange about the birth of this child. So much pain, it wasn't right.
Nevertheless, both Caradoc and Istvan's allegiance was sworn to the lord of the keep and it was their duty to follow his orders.
When Korinne's screams grew louder, Caradoc himself had wanted to break down the door to find out what was happening, but he steeled himself against the impulse and cast a cold eye toward Istvan to make sure the healer did not move.
And now they waited patiently for the appearance of Lord Soth, Caradoc cleaning his fingernails with the end of a stiletto, Istvan doing a variety of stretching exercises designed to ease the troublesome pain in his joints.
The door suddenly moved, then began to swing open on its hinges. Soth appeared in the doorway, his long black hair hanging down from his head like tattered threads, a touch of gray apparent around the temples and streaked throughout with wisps of white.
"Is everything all right, milord?" asked Caradoc.
Soth shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it isn't."
"What's happened?" said Istvan, getting to his feet.
"Unfortunately, both milady and the child… died during childbirth," said Soth, his voice surprisingly calm. He looked directly at Istvan.
"Despite your best efforts."
"But I-" Istvan began to say.
Soth cut him off with a hard look, then turned to face Caradoc.
The seneschal shivered as Soth's cold eyes seem to cut right through him.
"I said, milady and the child died during childbirth." He said each word slowly and clearly. "Despite the heroic efforts of our most brave and gallant healer."
"Yes, milord," said Caradoc.
Soth waited for the healer to speak.
"Yes, milord," Istvan whispered.
Soth nodded, leaned forward to speak directly to Caradoc. "Get rid of the bodies," he said. "And make sure there's nothing left when you are done."
Caradoc swallowed. "Yes, milord." "Good," said Soth. "Istvan. It's been a long night.
Perhaps we should both get some rest." He put a hand on the healer's shoulder and led him away.
Caradoc entered the chamber. After two steps he realized his boots were sticking to blood that had pooled on the surface of the floor.
Nevertheless he continued toward where the bed sat against the far wall of the room.
He stopped dead in his tracks long before he got there.
As he looked at the gore on the bed, his stomach spasmed and he swallowed in an attempt to keep from retching. He covered his mouth and tried to look away, but found he couldn't-his eyes were too firmly locked on the blood-soaked bed.
And while he did his best to block all thought from his mind so that he might be able to complete his assigned task, one thought kept coming back to him.
Even some of Soth's worst enemies-beings who championed the forces of evil and who were killed in the intense heat of battle-had never been so completely savaged.
Chapter 19
The silhouette of the pyre stood out in high relief against the red and orange streaks that colored the twilight sky. Atop the pyre on one side was a long, rectangular wooden box. On the other side was a much smaller box about the size of a traveler's trunk.
Lord Soth had specified that the bodies of Lady Korinne and the child be disposed of by fire in order to prevent the spread of disease. Although many who had been close to Korinne showed consternation over the matter, Soth insisted that it was necessary to protect the rest of those within the keep.
Protect them from what, he wouldn't say.
One of the most vocal opponents to such a
ceremony was Korinne's mother, Leyla, who wanted the bodies of both her daughter and grandchild to be brought back to Palanthas so that they might rest alongside her husband
Reynard in the Gladria family tomb. Soth said no to the request, and after that all others were reluctant to approach him on the subject.
As the last pieces of hardwood were being placed on the pyre, the crowd slowly closed in around it, huddling together as if for warmth. Despite the rich warm colors painting the sky, the evening air was cooler than normal, a subtle reminder of the somber mood pervading the gathering.
Soth himself had been affected more than anyone by the deaths, as well he should. But more than simply grieving, he seemed to be pulling himself away from all but his closest friends and confidants. His knights were, of course, part of his shrinking inner circle, as was the healer and a few others who had always been close to him. But what raised more than a few eyebrows was his frequent contact with the elf-maid, Isolde Denissa.
While it was to be expected that there would be a bond between the two-he had saved her life, after all-they were seen together far more often than was appropriate for such casual acquaintances, particularly so soon after the death of Lady Korinne.
Then there were those who were thankful for Isolde's presence within the keep. Whenever Soth spoke to her or was in her company, he seemed less troubled and more easily able to deal with his pain. If she was helping the lord of the keep to better handle the sudden loss of Korinne and his child, then so be it.
As the last of the crowd moved in tightly around the pyre, Soth found himself standing next to Isolde. Then, as the torches were thrown against the kindling at the bottom of the pyre and the fire started to burn, Soth leaned to his right and spoke to her.
Many in attendance noticed the subtle movement, and thought it odd.
Others took it as an ominous sign that things would be very different around the keep now that Lady Korinne was gone.
Isolde wept as she watched the flames begin creeping up toward the boxes containing Korinne and her child. To lose a wife and a child, a child so long-awaited and shortlived, was an event painful beyond imagining.
Soth was being strong through the tragedy, but the catastrophic nature of it had to have taken its toll on him. As heroic as his stature was, he was only a man.
She continued to weep as she watched the fire burn, the flames leaving bright orange coals in their wake. The flames rose higher, engulfing the boxes and obscuring them from view.
And then, as Isolde watched the fire burn, she felt the warm press of Soth's breath against her ear.
"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 t
hat 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.
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