entrance area just inside the keep's gatehouse. A small crowd of knights, squires and others had gathered about, all curious to learn what was afoot. The rider had entered slowly, his horse appearing to be on the brink of exhaustion.
Even now that his ride had come to an end, the rider seemed no better off and looked rather ragged and sore after what was obviously a long, hard ride. He was helped from his mount slowly, his movements suggesting each movement of his arms or legs was painful to make.
When he finally had both feet on the ground, footmen took hold of his shoulders and helped him over to where Lord Soth waited.
After letting himself down onto one knee, the rider looked up at the lord of the keep and grimaced to fight off a fresh stab of pain.
'Ogres,' he managed to say, still slightly out of breath.
Soth stepped closer to the rider, noticing for the first time that there were bruises on one side of his face and down along his neck to the shoulder, wounds likely made by an ogre's vine bola or duster ball.
'Where?'
The rider had managed to catch some of his breath and was now composed enough to manage something resembling coherent speech. 'I've come from the village of Halton. The ogres have moved north upon us from Throtyl, commandeering our stores and laying siege to the village. Several villagers have been killed, some others have been wounded. I only managed to get away by acting as if my wounds were fatal, then stealing a horse at nightfall.'
Soth nodded. Halton was a small but vital agricultural center south of
Dargaard Keep on the western foot of the Dargaard Mountains. It served as the initial trade center for much of the annual fall harvests in the region and was often called 'Harvest Home' by people all across the plains and throughout southern Solamnia.
Throtyl, on the other hand, was a pocket of lawlessness in the southern tip of the Dargaard Mountains. It was situated in a small forest which opened upon a broad marshy plain called Throttle. To the east of the plain lay a passageway through the Dargaard Mountains called the Throtyl
Gap. The gap was a place infested with marauding bands of outlaws, barbarians and ogres who made their living smuggling goods through the gap, charging heavy tolls for safe passage, or simply by preying upon unsuspecting travelers. For years Soth had been satisfied to look the other way because the ogres were relatively few in numbers and generally kept to themselves, and because most travelers of Ansalon knew to keep well clear of the gap. Finally, he tolerated them because they were so well entrenched in the forest that any expedition he might mount would likely cost the lives of too many knights and gain far too little in return to make it worth the effort.
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
