Lord Soth (34 page)

A collective gasp swept through the hall as the rumors were finally laid to rest and the reason for Soth’s summons was made known to all.

Soth felt his face grow hot as his blood began to roil in anger within him. It was only an inquiry, but he could still be found guilty as a result of the information that came to light. And even if he was cleared of any wrongdoing, his good name would be tarnished for all time by the mere accusation. When this was over, he vowed, those responsible would be made to pay.

A heavy, heavy price.

“A great tragedy,” said Soth, his voice even and noncommittal. “One that has wounded me deeply.” He paused. “I had wanted nothing more than to forget the catastrophe, and had begun the journey down that path.” He paused again. “But of course, in the interest of justice I will answer any questions you may have. Then this matter will be put to rest in my mind, heart and soul.”

Lord Caladen nodded.

The sound of voices rose in volume until the high justice leaned over to the recording secretary and asked for silence.

“Silence!” cried the recording secretary.

Once again, the hall grew quiet.

“Lord Soth,” began Lord Caladen. “There seem to be those who believe that Lady Korinne did not die while in the process of birthing her child.”

“People are entitled to their opinions, however vile,” said Soth.

“They say that instead of dying naturally during the birth, she was murdered by a blade after the fact.”

There was another collective gasp. This time it was peppered with whispers of, “No.”

“An opinion entirely without merit.”

Lord Caladen brought his hands up in front of his chest and brought them together as if in prayer. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps not.”

Soth was silent.

“Most interesting of all is that those who believe Korinne and the child to have been murdered have also made known their beliefs about who it was that wielded the deadly broadsword.”

“And who might that be?”

Lord Caladen drew in a breath. “You, Lord Soth.”

The doors of The Drookit Duck burst open and a young man ran into the tavern, frantic and out of breath.

“You’re liable to bust a button running like that,” laughed Caradoc.

“Are you the knights who arrived with Lord Soth?” asked the young man when he was able to speak the words.

Caradoc put down his tankard. “We are. What of it?”

“Lord Caladen has just accused your lord of murder in the death of Lady Korinne and the child.”

“What?”

“Lies!”

“A joke, surely?” cried the other knights, incredulous at the news.

All except for Caradoc.

Upon hearing the inevitable news, he simply lifted his tankard and took another sip of ale.

“I did no such thing!” shouted Soth, his voice strong and unwavering. “I loved my wife dearly and would never have done anything to hurt her.” He glanced around the hall. “What gypsy would make such a wild and unfounded accusation? Who dares make such an outrageously damaging claim?”

“Lady Korinne’s former lady-in-waiting for one,”
answered Lord Caladen.

Soth laughed contemptuously while shaking his head. “Would you take the word of a simple maid over a Knight of the Rose, a man sworn to live his life by the strict code of the Oath and the Measure?”

“No,” replied Lord Caladen. “Young Mirrel’s words were not enough to convince me to begin these proceedings. There were others.”

The high justice gestured to a knight standing guard at the back of the hall. The knight left the hall and a moment later he returned, leading an elderly elf-woman through the crowd toward the high justice.

Soth recognized the old woman and felt a brush of relief. He had saved the woman’s life and rescued her party from a band of ogres. Surely, she would be moved to speak well of him.

“What is your name?” asked the recording secretary.

“Olsla,” said the old woman. “Olsla Stirling.”

“And would you please tell me what you know about Lord Soth and his relationship with his former wife Lady Korinne?”

The elf-woman looked at Soth, her eyes narrowing slightly. A clear sign of derision.

Soth realized that the woman was likely upset that he had stolen Isolde out from under her nose. He wasn’t aware that she had come looking for Isolde, but that is what he guessed must have happened.

“Many months ago,” the elderly woman began. “I journeyed to Dargaard Keep to reunite Isolde Denissa with her fellow elf-maids.”

“Why had she been taken there?” asked Lord Caladen.

“She had been whisked to the keep by Lord Soth in order to receive attention from the healer of Dargaard Keep.”

“So Lord Soth saved her life?”

“I cannot say. He might have. Then again, she might have lived even without his help. What I can say for certain
is that when I tried to bring Isolde back home to Silvanesti, she refused to rejoin our party.”

“Why was that?”

“She told me she had decided to remain in the keep. She said that Lord Soth needed her there.”

Lord Caladen nodded. “Why was that?”

“Apparently, he found comfort with her”—the elf-woman’s voice cracked slightly—“because his wife could not bear him a child.”

The hall suddenly became very noisy.

“Ridiculous!” bellowed Soth. “If I am to be charged with such a serious crime, I expect such charges to be backed up by more credible witnesses than a former laundress and a senile old elf-woman.” He turned to face the crowd. “It is their word against the word of a Knight of Solamnia, a knight of the highest order possible.”

“Hear, hear!” shouted several in the hall who were obviously pro-Soth.

“Agreed,” said Lord Caladen, who waited for the noise to die down before continuing. “Agreed. Would you then accept the word of Istvan the healer, the only man who was present when Lady Korinne gave birth to the child?”

Soth was at first surprised by the mention of the healer’s name as he was unaware that Istvan had made the trip to Palanthas. But knowing that Istvan would soon be speaking on his behalf allowed him to breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Istvan was loyal to him alone, had been loyal to the Soth family for decades. He would surely corroborate Soth’s claim of innocence.

“Absolutely, Lord Caladen. The word of Istvan should be the final word on this matter so it may be settled without doubt, once and for all.”

“Agreed,” Lord Caladen said. “Bring in the healer.”

Again Lord Caladen gestured to the knight standing guard at the rear of the hall. Moments later, the hunched figure of Istvan was led through the crowd of people.

Soth nodded toward Istvan as he passed, but the healer
did not return the gesture as his frightened eyes were focussed on the high justice.

“What is your name?” asked Lord Caladen.

“Istvan,” he said. “Istvan, the healer.”

“Do you go by any other names?”

“No.”

“You are the healer of Dargaard Keep?”

“Yes?”

“Did you treat the elf-maid Isolde Denissa when she was brought to the keep?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you make of her injuries?”

“Well,” said Istvan, hesitating. “Well, she was quite severely injured and, I might add, if Lord Soth hadn’t brought her to me when he had, she might not be alive today.”

Soth cracked a slight smile. Istvan was part of Soth’s inner circle. If the high justice thought he could persuade Istvan to speak afoul of him, the man was grossly mistaken.

Lord Caladen’s face remained impassive as he continued questioning Istvan. “You also were present when Lady Korinne gave birth to her child in the keep?”

“Yes.”

Lord Caladen inhaled a breath. “Did she and the child survive the birth, or did she die while in the process of giving birth?”

Again Istvan hesitated a moment. “It was a difficult pregnancy and Lady Korinne was in pain almost daily as the child came to term. Unfortunately, the pain became too much for her and she died while giving birth to the child. Sadly, as a result of further complications, the child died as well.”

Voices grew louder at the back of the room.

Soth smiled broadly. If the only eyewitness to the birth said Korinne had died birthing the child, then the high justice would have no option but to issue a full and public apology for this travesty. Soth would be dismissed at once.

But Lord Caladen did not look to be satisfied with Istvan’s statements. It was as if he didn’t believe what the healer was saying. Then he looked over at Soth and saw the wide smile on the knight’s face.

“I warn you, Istvan. As healer of Dargaard Keep, you are bound to live by the code of ethics outlined in the Oath and the Measure.”

“Of course, milord.”

“Then you understand that it is a grave breech of honor to tell a falsehood, especially in such a place as the Hall of High Justice.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Then you would be more than happy to take part in a little test that will settle once and for all the fact that you are indeed telling the truth.”

Istvan had been backed into a corner. He had no other choice but to agree. “As you wish,” he said.

Soth glanced around, wondering what in the name of Paladine was going on.

Lord Caladen raised his right hand and beckoned someone in the crowd to come forward. A short, thin figure wearing dirty white and yellow robes moved away from the crowd.

“A mage?” said Soth. “What sort of game is this?”

“No game, Lord Soth. Only a search for the truth.”

“But if I’m not mistaken, this”—he gestured to the man in the white and yellow robes—“is a mage. Surely you are aware of the fact that magic has been outlawed by the Kingpriest of Istar. What purpose can this mage serve in the Hall of High Justice?”

Lord Caladen waited for silence, then spoke. “Not all magic has been banned by the Kingpriest. Some magic, that which has as its purpose the promotion of Good, the quest for truth and knowledge, is still sanctioned.”

“But I don’t—” stammered Soth.

“If Istvan is telling the truth, then he won’t be troubled by having this good mage cast a spell of truth over him, since
it will only serve to prove that his words are truthful.”

Soth too had been caught by his own words, just as Istvan had been before. If he argued the matter it would seem as if he had something to hide. But, if he readily agreed to the test and the spell proved successful, the truth would become known to all.

He couldn’t risk it.

“I protest Lord Caladen, Istvan has already spoken—”

“And you have said that you would accept what the healer said as being the final word on this matter. Now remain quiet and let the healer speak.” He nodded in the direction of the mage.

The mage pulled back his right sleeve to reveal a glassy blue stone in his hand. It was connected to a leather thong that was wrapped tightly about his fingers. He moved the stone closer to Istvan and it suddenly began to glow with a strange incandescent light. The mage began mumbling a series of words and guttural tones. After several minutes the mage nodded to Lord Caladen, then stepped back, leaving Istvan standing absolutely rigid, his eyes staring blankly at the far end of the hall.

“Istvan is now under the power of a truth spell and is unable to tell a lie, even if he so wishes,” Lord Caladen said to the people within the hall. It was obvious he wanted to show that no trickery was being used and that the spell hadn’t been cast simply in order to make Istvan say what the high justice wanted to hear. “Istvan, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer by saying the word
green
.”

Istvan nodded.

“What color is the sky?”

“Blue.”

“Very good.”

“Now, Istvan, when Lord Soth brought Isolde Denissa to Dargaard Keep, were her injuries life-threatening?”

“No.”

“How so?”

“Her injuries would have healed simply with the passage of time.”

The hall was silent.

“When you assisted Lady Korinne in the birth of her child, did she survive that birth?”

“Yes. She was in fine health. In fact, the child’s birth eased her pain considerably.”

Dead silence.

“And what of the child? Did it survive the birth?”