Lord Soth (25 page)

The midday sun was high over the western plain as Lady Korinne stood at the window of her bedchamber waiting for her husband to leave the keep.

In the distance, four figures draped in robes were heading due south along the foot of the Dargaard Mountains after having left the keep some time ago. They were riding slowly, three of them high in the saddle, one hunched over from what was most likely old age.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to come and go from the keep without her knowledge—it was impossible for Lady Korinne, and Lord Soth for that matter, to know about everything that went on within the keep’s walls—but for some reason Korinne’s curiosity was piqued by this party of four. They didn’t seem to be merchants or mercenaries and Dargaard Keep was hardly ever visited by wizards, priests or rogues.

A curiosity to be sure.

Suddenly, the outside of the keep was alive with the sound of hoofbeats on the wooden drawbridge spanning the chasm. A second later Lord Soth rode out of the keep followed by six knights. They quickly headed east, the trail to Vingaard Keep taking them nowhere near the other four travelers.

Korinne watched Soth and the knights for a long time, not moving from the window until they were nearly out of sight. Before turning away, she glanced southward. The four riders heading that way were also gone.

She turned away from the window.

“They’re gone, Mirrel,” she said to her newest lady-in-waiting.
“Begin making preparations for this evening.”

“Yes, milady,” said Mirrel.

“Well set out after dark.”

The moons had been hanging over the keep for several hours before Korinne heard the faint knock upon her door. “Who is it?” she asked.

“Mirrel.”

Korinne hurried to the door and opened it. Mirrel stood there draped in a dark cloak, a garment which would make her all but invisible in the darkness. She had a second dark cloak for Korinne. “Put it on,” she said, then added, “please, milady.”

Korinne slipped into the robe and together the two women padded through the keep, taking the less-traveled routes on their way to the gatehouse.

To Korinne’s surprise, the gate was unattended, the portcullis slightly raised. “Where are the guards?”

“I arranged for them to be away from their posts for several minutes. They should likewise be gone when we return.”

“But how?”

“Don’t underestimate the feminine charms of—”

“Never mind,” said Korinne, cutting off Mirrel’s whispers. “I’ve already decided I don’t want to know.”

“Perhaps it would be best that way, milady.”

Korinne looked at the maid, amazed by her ingenuity, efficiency and her steadfast loyalty. Despite the fact that Mirrel had been the one to inform her of Lord Soth’s indiscretions, Korinne was beginning to look upon their meeting as a blessing. Although she’d been lady of the keep, Korinne had sorely been missing a close and loyal friend. Now she had one.

They snuck through the gap left by the raised portcullis and crossed the drawbridge quickly, trying to stay out of
the faint light of the moons. When they had reached some cover outside the keep, Korinne turned to Mirrel. “What now?”

“This way,” said Mirrel. “There are horses waiting.”

Again, Korinne was impressed by Mirrel’s thoroughness, and for the first time since she’d thought of this wild scheme, she believed it might actually have a chance of succeeding.

They reached the horses, a pair of big and powerful black stallions.

They mounted the horses and without a word being spoken between them, rode off into the night.

Chapter 15

“The power to read the thoughts within the minds of men, women and
children …” mused the Kingpriest as he sat upon his throne at one end of the main hall of the temple.

“And to put an end to those evil thoughts,” he continued, “before they’ve even made a single step onto Evil’s dark and twisted road. Is that not a power that had previously been reserved for the gods?”

A lone acolyte sat by the Kingpriest’s side. The young man seemed unsure whether the question had been a rhetorical one or not. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up. “Indeed it is, your worship.”

The Kingpriest nodded.

The acolyte sighed, relieved he had answered the Kingpriest correctly.

“And to sit in sole judgment of people’s evil thoughts, considering the severity of those thoughts and punishing them accordingly, even with death. Is that not the kind of power that had, up until now, been reserved for the Gods
of Good such as Paladine, Mishakal, Majere, Kiri-Jolith, Habbakuk, Branchala and Solinari? Even the Gods of Evil: Takhisis, Sargonnas, Morgion, and the Gods of Neutrality: Gilean, Sirrion, and Reorx have been know to possess such powers.”

A pause.

“Yes, your worship,” said the acolyte.

“But now, it is not only the gods who have that power. I have it as well. And if I, the Kingpriest of Istar, have godlike powers, then am I still a mortal being or have I ascended to the next level? Beyond mortal and toward immortal?”

Another pause.

“Ascended to the next level, your worship,” said the acolyte, the intonation making his words sound more like a question than a statement.

“Yes,” hissed the Kingpriest. “If I have acquired the powers of the gods, then, by rights, I must be a god myself.”

The hall was deathly silent.

The acolyte looked at the Kingpriest, nodded his head slightly and said in a trembling voice. “Yes, your worship.”

“Then I will ascend to the heavens and take my place at the right hand of Paladine. The gods will greet me with open arms and thank me for spreading virtue and goodness across the four corners of Krynn.”

The Kingpriest’s eyes were looking upward, glinting with a sort of madness, as if he were looking through the stone ceiling of the temple and into the starry night sky above it.

The Kingpriest stood up. “If I have the power of a god, then I
will
become a god!”

The acolyte was silent, looking strangely at the Kingpriest.

“A god,” he repeated breathily, as if considering the possibilities.

The acolyte lowered his head like one doomed. “Yes, your worship.”

Chapter 16

Together, Mirrel and Lady Korinne rode south for over an hour
before turning east and riding into the northern lip of a deep rift in the Dargaard Mountains called the Soul’s Wound.

Korinne had heard stories about the inhabitants of these mountains ever since she was a child. Although she’d always felt it hard to believe the tales while living in the comfort of her parent’s home in Palanthas, such was not the case after she’d moved into Dargaard Keep.

Everyone in the keep from the knights to the laundresses, from the squires to the cooks, could tell stories of the lost folk who supposedly lived in the most impenetrable valleys or on the most treacherous mountainsides of the Dargaard range. The lizardlike Bakali, the otherworldly Huldrefolk, the birdlike Kyrie, and the batlike Shadowpeople. All were reported to live deep within these mountains although none of these creatures had been reliably witnessed for hundreds of years. Still, that fact did little to alter people’s beliefs in them and the interior of the mountain range slowly grew to
be a darkly mystical place where those who were ill-suited to blend into Solamnic society found the perfect place in which to live out their lives in peace.

However, that didn’t mean there was never any contact between the two worlds.

When Korinne first thought of making this trip she had only a vague idea of where she might find help. Mirrel had proved helpful in this regard, securing directions and ensuring they wouldn’t be turned away once they arrived at their destination.

Their goal was a small stone cottage at the foot of a snowcapped mountain. The cottage was half-buried in earth and looked as if the mountainside had crept up to it over the past few centuries and would eventually engulf the structure with the passage of the next several hundred years.

There was a faint yellow light shining in one of the cottage’s two exposed windows. Considering the time of night, the light was a good sign that whoever lived within was expecting company.

The two women slowed their mounts as they approached the tiny cottage, content to walk the last little bit after what had been an especially long and hard ride.

They secured their horses, the beasts seeming infinitely grateful for the rest, and approached the cottage’s front door.

The wooden door was slightly ajar, but Mirrel stopped Lady Korinne from pushing it open and suggested that she knock first.

Korinne nodded at this, reminding herself that her status as lady of the keep would carry little weight in the home of a hedge witch. She pulled her robe back from her right wrist and knocked on the door with three sharp raps of her knuckles.

There was no answer.

“Maybe we should go,” suggested Mirrel.

Korinne knocked again.

“Open is the door,” said a gravel-throated voice. “Enter
if you wish.”

Korinne looked at Mirrel and the younger woman nodded. Then Korinne pushed the door open and entered the cottage, Mirrel close behind her.