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.
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
