Lord Soth (36 page)

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Authors: Edo Van Belkom

BOOK: Lord Soth
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Still, the majority of people had braved the wet and cold and ventured out to watch the beheading. Already, the streets were lined with citizens from all classes, from clerics and merchants, to tradesmen and laborers. Fruit vendors were doing an especially brisk business, suddenly finding eager customers for all their wares, even the most rotten of fruits, vegetables and eggs.

Soth was awakened at dawn and offered a final meal of bread and water, which he refused. Then he was led onto the back of a cart, stripped down to the waist and chained by the wrists to a heavy timber post that rose up from the center of the cart’s wooden floor.

The knights entrusted with the task of preparing Soth for transport seemed to be unenthusiastic about their work. Indeed they almost treated the job with disdain, saying nothing to the disgraced knight and avoiding looking directly into his eyes. Here was one of their own, one of the greatest Knights of Solamnia, reduced to the level of a common criminal.

In their hearts, the question as to whether Soth was guilty or not was of little consequence. He was a Knight of the Rose and he deserved a better fate. But in their minds, the knights knew that the Oath and the Measure had little sympathy for knights who strayed from the path. And to that end, it is even written in the Measure that knights must be more severely punished for their crimes than the common man because anything less would hurt the collective reputation of all knights.

For that reason, the Solamnic Knights tending to Soth on
the morning of his execution wanted nothing more than to complete their task quickly and be done with it.

Soth understood this and made it easier on them by saying nothing as they secured him to the post.

At last it was done and his wrists were securely bound and fixed to the top of the post. Soth made a token effort to pull himself free, but knew that any decent squire could have done a proper job of securing him.

As the knights collected their things, one lingered behind. He was a young Crown knight by the look of his clothes, but nothing else about the man was familiar to Soth, most likely because he was recently petitioned to the knighthood.

He looked at Soth, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. “Paladine have mercy on your soul,” he said.

Soth looked at the young man and realized that he had probably been suckling at his mother’s breast when Soth first became a Solamnic Knight. The thought of this
boy
taking pity on him, angered Soth to no end.

He laughed at the young knight, then said, “No, boy. May Paladine have mercy on
yours!

The knight looked shaken by Soth’s words, stumbling as he got off the cart.

Soth continued to laugh.

Soth’s loyal knights had been up for hours, making plans by lamplight until the sun’s rays were bright enough to properly illuminate the secluded livery stable they’d moved their meeting to in order to avoid being watched or overheard by spies of the high justice.

What they planned to do would not be easy. Had Soth been taken prisoner by a band of ogres, or barbarians, or been placed under some spell by a pack of goblins, his rescue would have likely been a simple matter.

But instead, he was the prisoner of the Knights of
Solamnia. His followers would have virtually no advantage because the knights they would be pitting themselves against were just as skilled as they were. And to make matters worse, there would be more guards than rescuers, making the chances of freeing Soth unharmed very slim indeed.

They had discussed tactics long into the night and it was Caradoc who finally came up with something that might tip the scales in their favor. “We are Knights of Solamnia, are we not?”

“Yes, of course,” the knights agreed.

“And it is assumed that we will accept Soth’s fate and conduct ourselves according to the Oath and the Measure.”

The knights were silent, awaiting Caradoc’s next words.

“Well then, any attempt to free our lord would come as a surprise since none would expect us to reject the decision of the high justice.”

The knights remained silent, considering it.

Finally, Wersten Kern spoke. “But what you’re saying is that such a rescue wouldn’t be expected because what it amounts to is treason, something that will likely mark us as outlaws and get us banished from the Knights of Solamnia.”

Caradoc sighed. If Kern was having second thoughts, then some of the others were as well. That meant that Caradoc had one last chance to convince the knights of their task. If he failed now Soth would be doomed. “No, not treason,” said Caradoc. “Our rescue will be an act of tremendous loyalty toward our lord. And in regard to becoming outlaws, how do you know that our reputations haven’t already been damaged through our association with Lord Soth? We can’t even be sure that we’ll be allowed to leave the city without being put on trial ourselves.”

Kern pondered Caradoc’s words, then finally nodded. “Caradoc is right. We’re probably already damned in the eyes of the other knights.” A pause. “If that’s the case, then
I think using the element of surprise is the best chance we have of rescuing Lord Soth and leaving Palanthas alive.”

The knights muttered agreement.

“All right then,” said Caradoc. “Perhaps we should begin working out the details.”

The horse cart started with a sudden lurch, then rolled smoothly—if not noisily—out into the courtyard of the Hall of High Justice. There the driver stopped to pick up his escort of four mounted knights in highly polished plate armor, one positioned at each of the cart’s corners. With the knights in place, the cart left the courtyard and began its journey through the streets of Palanthas.

The layout of the city was like that of a gigantic wheel, with each road being a spoke leading directly to the hub. They were currently in Old City, which was made up of the Hall of High Justice, the ancient library of Astinus, the palace, homes for the Knights of Solamnia and other structures important to the city’s defense, politics and finances.

In a few minutes the procession passed through the wall that separated Old City from the newer parts of Palanthas. On the other side of the wall, the streets were wider and less crowded and the air seemed fresher, cleaner and infinitely more breathable.

Soth took a deep breath …

And was hit hard on the side of the head by a rotten egg.

It was the first of many.

The wheel-like layout of Palanthas proved to be of benefit to Soth’s knights. Because all of the city’s roads led to its center, each of the knights could take a different route to the execution site and therefore inconspicuously arrive as a group and remain unnoticed until it was time to free
Soth and make good their escape.

Meyer Seril had volunteered to follow the route that Lord Soth would be taking. He joined the procession as it emerged from the wall separating the old and new cities, then fell into line with the others following.

Despite the fact that Seril had been wearing his helm and looked like most of the other Knights of Solamnia in the procession, Soth had recognized the three white stockings on his mount and nodded to Seril as he passed.

Seril had given a slight nod, acknowledging Soth.

After that, Soth held his head even higher, despite the fact that he was continuously being pelted with rotten eggs and tomatoes, even several hardened cakes of dried horse dung.

It broke Seril’s heart to see his lord being treated in such a way. When he saw a commoner to his right throwing an egg—an egg which hit Soth squarely in the back—Seril moved his horse forward until it was in front of the offending peasant. Then he pulled hard on his reins, forcing the horse to miss a step and kick with his hind legs in order to regain its balance.

The horse’s right rear hoof shot up from the ground, catching the man in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backward through the air.

Seril looked back and saw him lying flat on his back, struggling to regain his feet, but unable to do so.

“Beg your pardon,” said Seril apologetically. “Are you all right?”

The commoner was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer.

Colm Farold was the first of Soth’s knights to arrive at the city’s center square—the execution site. He had traveled in from the southeast corner of the city and therefore had the shortest distance to cover. Shortly after Farold, Caradoc
appeared from the road leading in from due south. Then Wersten Kern came in from the north, leading a second horse by its reins. It was a large horse, and appeared to be strong enough for the task that would be asked of it. But despite the horse’s obvious size and strength, it lacked the same lineage as the mounts belonging to the Knights of Solamnia. When they set out across the Solamnic Plains the horse would inevitably fall behind. The question was, how long would it be before that happened?

As more of his loyal knights began to appear in the square, Soth seemed to become more defiant. Indeed, he was standing straighter now and did not flinch when struck by the rotten projectiles thrown by the angrier members of the crowd.

His long black hair was tangled and matted, pasted against his dirty flesh in some spots, but standing up on end and looking as ragged as wildfire in others. His hard, muscled body was mottled by splotches of red, green and yellow, giving him the appearance of a barbarian in war paint rather than a disgraced Knight of the Rose.

The cart Soth was standing on slowly moved into place next to the execution platform. On the platform, the black-helmed executioner patiently waited for his victim to be brought into position. Although the sky was still overcast, the executioner’s huge double-sided axe still glinted menacingly in the sunlight that managed to break through the clouds.

As the cart came to a stop, Caradoc clenched the reins of his mount more tightly in his fist. It was up to him to give the signal to the rest of the knights.

Caradoc checked the position of the sun, then made a final survey of the scene. Off to the right, the higher officials had yet to take the places that had been set aside for them. There were knights along the fringes of the crowd, but none seemed to be paying too much attention at present because nothing much was happening and the thought of Soth attempting to escape was probably the
furthest thing from their minds.

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