This however, was another matter entirely. People of Knightlund had been killed and wounded. His people.
And still, many others remained in danger and would be without food through the winter if nothing were done to vanquish the ogres.
"You've done well," Soth told the rider. "Get some food in you, and a change of dean clothing. Then we'll meet in the Knights' Chambers to discuss our battle plans."
He turned to address the rest of those present, perhaps even the entire keep. "Begin preparations," he barked, sending squires and footmen scurrying. "We shall be leaving as soon as possible."
Soth placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. It felt good in his hand, and it would feel even better being swung against an opponent in battle.
Whenever they might be leaving the keep, it wouldn't be soon enough.
Soth found Lady Korinne alone in their bedchamber.
She was sitting by the window reading one of the thirtyseven volumes written by Vinas Solamnus which outlined the Measure of the Knights of
Solamnia. She had begun reading the volumes that were housed in the keep's library shortly after their wedding and had dedicated most of her waking hours to reading every word in every volume so that she might better understand the laws of conduct to which her husband was bound.
Curious about his wife's progress, Soth checked the number of the volume-twenty-six. Soon she would be as familiar with the Measure as any knight, perhaps even more so. It was a generous gesture, one which endeared his wife to Soth-if it were in fact possible for him to love her any more than he already did.
"There is trouble to the south," said Soth, kneeling by his wife's side and placing his hands in hers.
"I've heard as much."
"It pains me to leave you here, but the people of Halton need me.
Several have died, and more will certainly perish if we don't make haste."
Lady Korinne smiled lovingly and shook her head.
"Dear Loren, how sweet that you feel you must tell me lies to protect my feelings."
Soth was somewhat taken aback by his wife's assertion.
"I am certainly not telling you lies."
"Oh yes you are," she said, her voice still soft and loving.
"You said you can't bear to leave the keep, but I know there's nothing your heart yearns for more than to be traveling Solamnia with your knights at your side, battling Evil."
Soth returned her smile. "You know me too well, then."
"Oh, I doubt that," she said. "I just know that for you, or any Knight of Solamnia, there is no choice between the drudgery of keep life and an all-out battle against Evil."
Soth smiled, "In that you are correct," he said, realizing his wife dearly understood what was needed most from the wife of a Knight of
Solamnia-understanding.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "But please, promise me one thing."
"Of course, anything."
"When you leave the keep, think not of me, but solely of the task ahead of you. I don't want your battle instincts dulled by any sentimental thoughts of me."
"You are as unselfish as you are beautiful, my love."
"Perhaps, but I can think of no other way to ensure that you will return to me quickly and unharmed."
Soth nodded. "As you wish." He leaned forward, took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.
"It was hard to know exactly how many ogres there were in total since they were so spread out over the entire village," said the rider from
Halton as he sketched a rough map of his home village on a sheet of pale leather laid over a table in the knights' chambers.
"If you had to guess?" asked Caradoc, standing to the left of the rider.
The rider was silent, deep in thought. "I really can't say." The rider shook his head, apparently frustrated.
"We're a village of peaceful farmers. We've relied so much on the protection of the Knights of Solamnia that few of us even have weapons with which to defend ourselves."
"A guess?" Caradoc prodded, a little forcefully.
The rider shook his head. "Perhaps there were no more than ten or fifteen of them."
A ripple of nervous laughter coursed through the knights who stood around the table. That many ogres wouldn't be too hard to handle, especially for such a seasoned warrior as Lord Soth and his company of thirteen loyal knights. No, the problem with liberating the village wasn't so much with the ogres who had besieged it, as with the villagers and trying to keep them out of harm's way during the battle to free them.
"Do you know where most of the ogres are located within the village?" asked Soth, standing to the rider's right and carefully looking over the sketch of the village.
"I can't be sure," said the rider. "But perhaps I could sneak back into the village when we get there and find out."
"Yes, that would help. The more we know about the village and the ogres the better it will be for us," said Soth.
"But, we can do nothing until we arrive in Halton." He began rolling up the length of leather. "We leave within the hour."
Soth adjusted his breastplate so that it rested comfortably across his chest. The breastplate, bearing the symbol of the rose, was still unmarred by battle. It gleamed brightly against the light shining through the open entrance to the keep and did justice to the pride Soth felt in wearing it. When the plate was set into position, he checked the armor plates over his shoulders, and on his thighs and shins, making sure they were all properly placed and secured.
Like most of the knights on this expedition, Soth had opted for medium-weight armor with steel plates covering the vital areas like the head and chest, while the extremities were left to the protection of chain mail. The combination of the two types of armor would allow him more freedom of movement, which was vitally important when fighting the much stronger, but slower-moving ogres.
Satisfied with his armor, Soth held out his hand for his sword. The two footmen who had been busy sharpening its blade carried it toward him wrapped in a heavy cloth.
They presented it to him hilt first. Although the sword was designed for two-handed use, Soth was a big man, easily strong enough to wield the weapon with only his right hand.
The footmen remained where they stood, waiting for Soth's appraisal of the weapon and his verdict on its suitability.
Soth cut a swath through the air with the sword to check its balance, then raised it up to take a closer look at the cutting edges of the blade. That the footmen had spent all of their time since the arrival of the rider honing the weapon was obvious. Both its edges were as sharp as knives and the tip of its point was needle-thin. He looked at the footmen and nodded appreciatively.
The two footmen smiled at each other proudly, then the taller one said,
"Slay one of them foul beasts for us, milord."
"Consider it done," said Soth, placing the sword neatly into its heavy leather sheath.
Next, he took hold of his helm. It was made of bare silver-gray metal with only certain parts of it adorned with decorative roses. The visor was up and the horse's tail that sprouted out from the top center of the helm was as long and black as Soth's own flowing mane. Like the rest of his armor, the helm was of medium weight. Some of the knights had opted for their heaviest helms, but Soth had decided that not even the strongest helm could protect him against a direct blow from an ogre's club or long sword. To Soth, it was far better to die bravely in battle than to be seriously injured and unable to continue his life as a knight.