He balanced the helm between his hands and prepared to place it over his head when he heard a voice calling him.
"Milord! Milord!" It was a woman's voice. He turned around and saw Lady
Korinne approaching. While she usually called him Loren, they had decided on using the more formal address in the presence of others.
"Milady," said Soth, nodding his head graciously.
"I wanted to give you one last kiss before you go."
Soth bent forward and the two kissed deeply.
"And to tell you this…"
Soth's eyebrows arched expectantly.
"Fight for the cause of Good, and when you're done, hurry home.
Hopefully upon your return I will be able to reward you with the news that I am with child."
Soth's mouth fell open and remained that way for a moment. While he was glad to hear the words, he was somewhat confused by them. A short time ago she'd played the part of a knight's wife to perfection, instructing him not to think of her while on the journey. But now she was speaking more like a young bride, teasing him with words of a child in order to ensure that his thoughts were never far from home-no matter where he might be.
A child, he thought, perhaps even a son. Soth's heart raced at the possibility. "That would make my return to Dargaard Keep a truly triumphant one," he said.
He moved to kiss her again, but she stepped away from him and shook her head, once again playing the role of the steadfast lady of the keep.
"Go," she said. "Your people need you."
Soth looked at his wife a moment, his heart full of love and pride, then gently slipped his helm over his head. He turned and mounted his horse, a huge animal, char-black from head to hoof, which despite Soth's size and weight, did not seem to be burdened by its new load.
He took one final look around, saw that his knights were ready, and drew his sword. Then he raised it over his head and shouted, "Est Sularus oth Mithas."
A cheer rose up.
Soth's mount surged forward.
And the knights followed him out of the keep.
Chapter 5
After the exhilarating charge out of the keep, the thirteen Solamnic
Knights loyal to Lord Soth settled down to a somewhat more relaxed pace which would allow them to travel the maximum amount of distance in what was left of the day.
After night had fallen, they continued on in the darkness for several hours and would have ridden through the night had Soth asked it of them.
But of course, he would never think to do such a thing. For although it was imperative they get to Halton as quickly as possible, Soth refused to compromise his knights' fighting ability by bringing them to the point of exhaustion before they'd even arrived at the battle. When they passed the halfway point between Dargaard Keep and Halton, the decision to stop for the night was made easy for Soth when the passage through that part of the mountains proved too treacherous to complete under the cover of darkness.
He stopped the procession and the knights dutifully, if not gratefully, dismounted and stretched their limbs. Soon after, Caradoc had arranged a watch rotation and the knights set about eating what little provisions they had taken with them. In a day or so the squires would catch up to the group and there would be plenty of time to feast, but for now they had to travel as lightly and as quickly as possible.
A chill wind blew down from the mountains, but fires were obviously out of the question. And so, they ate cold food in the dark, and after they'd staved off their pangs of hunger, at least temporarily, the knights silently made themselves comfortable wherever they could.
Finally, they closed their eyes for a few hours' rest… And dreamed of the battle ahead.
Soth looked up and saw the rocks tumbling down the mountainside. He ducked beneath an overhang and watched the stones and boulders roll past, then crash heavily into the soft valley floor below.
He waited another few seconds, listening to the flap of the dragon's wings as it flew over the mountain's peak and prepared for yet another pass.
"Father!"
It was a thin, weak voice, yet somehow familiar.
Another moment passed and he realized it was the voice of his son.
He was still alive.
Soth ran out from under the overhang and quickly looked left and right.
"Father!" came the call again.
He ran to the left, over the loose rocks that had been dislodged by the dragon's pass. After cresting a slight rise, he saw his son standing in the middle of a clearing. He was looking around, his steps tentative and cautious.
He was a young and handsome man, with all the size and strength of his father. He was dressed in shining plate armor, dented and scratched in spots in evidence of the fierceness of battles past. He held his sword stiffly before him like a pathfinder, lighting his way in the dark.
Soth ran toward his son, but stopped when he noticed the boy's eyes.
They were two large white spheres absolutely without color. The young man was blind, wandering aimlessly over the mountainside, in search of
… "Father, are you there?"
"Yes!" cried Soth, moving toward the boy.
But the dragon was back, plunging down toward them, so close now that
Soth could feel the rush of hot wind against his body as it approached.
He drew his sword to face the beast. It was a red dragon, its head and snout crowned by great spiny horns and its body covered with large red diamond-shaped scales.
Such a powerful and evil enemy, even Soth felt a shiver of fear run through him.
"Father, help me!"
The dragon swooped closely overhead, then rose up in a slow, wide arc in preparation for another pass.
Soth turned toward his son, but a rock rolled in front of him and he was forced to jump back… Directly into the path of another, larger rock.
The great stone slammed into him, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground. Desperately he tried to move, but both his legs had been crushed, and the rock-more like a boulder-was far too heavy to move.
"Father? Are you there?"
Soth tried to speak, but the words would not come to his parched throat.
The red dragon had circled back once more, this time coming in to land on the side of the mountain no more than fifty paces from the boy.
"Is that you?" The younger Soth turned his head toward the dragon, listening to the sounds of movement around him.
The dragon moved closer, a wide villainous smile forming on its hideous snout. It began to inhale, gathering its breath. Then, slowly it opened its mouth wide.
Soth felt the blood drain from his face. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He opened his mouth to scream, but could not make a sound.
The red dragon exhaled a cone of white-hot flames.
"Father, please…"
The boy's sword and shield began to melt in the wash of fire.
"Help me!"
And a moment later the young Soth was also aflame, his armor and body being incinerated by the intense heat of the dragon's fiery breath.
"No!" Soth cried, this time managing to say the word.
The dragon closed its mouth and turned to face him.
Thin white tendrils of smoke wafted up from its nostrils and the corners of its mouth as it took several steps in his direction.
Soth began to thrash from side to side, pulling at his ruined legs, trying to get them free.
The dragon inhaled again, then opened its mouth and… "Milord!" whispered Caradoc.
Soth's eyes fluttered open. "What?" he gasped. "What is it?"
"Are you all right? It sounded as if you might be in pain."
Soth fought to catch his breath. He looked around. It was still dark out. Slowly, he remembered where he was, and realized he'd been having a dream.