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 the 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 Kingpriest.
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.
If nothing came of it afterward, then at least she would be content in the knowledge that she had done her best to bring the truth to light. If people were still unwilling to look upon that light, then she would turn her back on it and let the matter rest once and for all.
When she told her relatives of her plans they thought her insane. The high justice was an important and busy man, they said, who had no time for a simple maid-a simple former maid-from an outlying keep.
But she remained undaunted. She was not just a simple chamber maid. She had been at one time, but she had been elevated in status and had been
Lady Korinne's lady-in waiting. Surely the high justice would be happy to meet with her.
But her first visit to the Hall of High Justice on the shores of the Bay of Branchala in the west end of Palanthas was anything but successful.
She was made to wait for hours in a cold and damp room, only to be forgotten by the knight who had told her to wait there.
That night, she traveled the darkened streets of Palanthas to the home of Leyla Gladria where she was immediately taken in. There she told her story to the elderly woman who was keen to hear anything having to do with the all-too-brief life of her beloved daughter and even briefer life of her long-awaited grandchild.
Finally, Mirrel had found a sympathetic ear, and more.
"I knew that man would be bad for my daughter, knight or no!" she said.
"I always felt there was another side to Soth, a darker side. But he was so charming from the first, much too charming if you ask me."
Mirrel listened attentively and patiently to the elderly woman as she talked for what seemed like hours. She didn't mind, even when Leyla
Gladria began repeating herself or crying out loud. Mirrel realized that the old woman still needed to come to terms with the loss of her daughter, and understood that if she could help ease some of the elderly woman's pain, then she would be fulfilling her oath of loyalty to the former Lady Korinne.
When Leyla Gladria's bitter words came to an end and she had composed herself somewhat, she looked at Mirrel and nodded. "If it's an audience with the high justice you want, then that's just what you'll get."
"According to what I remember of these mountains, the hedge witch's cabin should be somewhere near the foot of that mountain there." Soth pointed at a great snowcapped mountain, one of the tallest peaks in all of the Dargaard Mountains.
"Lead the way," said Caradoc. Soth's seneschal was unsure of the purpose of their journey to this nearly uninhabited part of the Dargaard Range.
He had mentioned something about killing a witch to preserve the truth, but none of it made much sense. Eventually, Caradoc had merely shrugged it off as yet another mysterious aftereffect of the tragedy that had befallen Lord Soth.
The two knights headed south into the deep dark rift in the mountain range called the Soul's Wound. After an hour's ride they came upon the small stone cottage, an odd structure partially obscured by the encroaching mountains which loomed over it like a tidal wave ready to crash down upon it at any moment.
"There it is!" cried Caradoc.
Soth kicked at the ribs of his mount and hurried toward the small stone cottage. Caradoc followed.
The windows of the cottage were dark and lifeless.
Soth dismounted and walked up to the front door. After a moment of hesitation he drew his broadsword, then reared back and kicked down the door. He crouched down to fit through the doorway and entered the cottage with his sword held out in front of him.
Slowly he moved through the room, searching the dark corners.
For what? Caradoc wondered.
At last he turned back toward the entrance, an angry scowl on his face.
"The hag is gone!" he said.
And then suddenly his broadsword was slicing through the air in a fit of rage, smashing chairs and tables and anything else the blade could find and destroy.
Caradoc first covered his face to protect it from flying debris, then stepped outside and waited patiently for Soth's fury to run its course.
The next morning a trio of knights arrived at the home of Mirrel's relatives and a most handsome man with long red hair and an equally long scarlet mustache knocked on the door.
Mirrel answered the door, still dressed in her nightdress.
"Are you Mirrel?" asked the knight. "The former lady in-waiting of Lady
Korinne of Dargaard Keep?"
"Yes," said Mirrel, at a loss as to what was going on.
"Lord Caladen has asked us to escort you to the Hall of High Justice.
Please make ready to leave immediately."
Mirrel hurriedly changed her clothes, then rode with the knights to the Hall of High Justice. Upon their arrival they were sent immediately into the inner hall. Then Mirrel alone was led up to a heavy wooden door bearing the symbol of the Knights of Solamnia-the majestic kingfisher with its wings half extended, grasping a sword with its sharp claws.
There was a rose beneath the bird, and a crown above it.
She knocked on the door.
"Come in," said a voice.
She opened the door. Sitting in the middle of the room was Lord Caladen.
Across from him was another chair, presumably for her to be seated upon.
There were no other windows or doorways to the room; what was said within it never went beyond its four walls.
She entered the room and sat down, her heart pounding hard inside her chest and her throat uncomfortably dry.
Lord Caladen smiled.
At once, Mirrel felt more relaxed.
"Leyla Gladria has told me that I might be interested in hearing what you have to say." "Very interested," said Mirrel, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
"All right, then. Tell me."
And she did.
Murder, thought Lord Caladen. It was a serious charge.
And the murder of a man's own wife and child, well, there was no more serious matter on the face of Krynn.
But could someone as vaunted as Lord Loren Soth, Knight of the Rose, be capable of such a crime? He was an excellent leader, a fearless warrior and from all accounts a kind and just man.
From all accounts, except for the very vivid and detailed one told by Lady Korinne's former lady-in-waiting. If the woman was to be believed,
Soth had been unfaithful to his wife with an elf-maid, even when his wife had been carrying his child. This charge was not all that hard to believe considering the reputation of the knight's father, Aynkell Soth.
But while being a philanderer was against the Oath and the Measure, Lord Caladen was inclined to look the other way on such matters. He wanted to disbelieve the accusation of murder, dismiss the charges as the misguided vengeance of a dismissed lady, but too many things she'd said had made too much sense.
There were rumors regarding the matter, rumors which had traveled to Palanthas well before the arrival of the former maid named Mirrel.
People in the keep had heard the sounds of a child's cries, suggesting there had been a live; birth. The same people had heard Lady Korinne's screams, suggesting she had survived the birth as well. And there was the matter of the cremation to consider. Even if Soth had been devastated by the deaths of his wife and child, a lightning quick cremation was not in keeping with Solamnic customs. There should have been a period in which Korinne lay in state so that people could have paid their respects, and men she should have received a proper burial within the Soth family crypt. Such a ceremony was automatic for someone of Lady Korinne's standing.
Like everyone else, Lord Caladen had heard the rumors that the cremation was performed to prevent the spread of disease, but like everyone else he had a hard time believing it. For what manner of disease causes a woman to die while giving birth?
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