'Injustice indeed,' cried one of the knights. He couldn't tell which one of the knights had spoken, and therefore couldn't tell if the words were said in support or condemnation of Lord Soth.
Most of the knights were still in shock over what had transpired. They had journeyed to Palanthas on a matter of routine business, only to have their leader sentenced to death.
It seemed like madness.
After all, Lord Soth was the epitome of everything the Knights of
Solamnia stood for, a shining example of everything that was good and honorable about the knighthood.
But there were those among the knights who were beginning to question their lord. And with good reason.
They had seen the elf-maid Isolde Denissa after the ogre attack and although none had said so at the time, many thought it odd that Soth insisted he bring her back to the keep. And then there was the sentencing itself. Soth had been questioned in the Hall of High Justice and found guilty by seven fellow Knights of Solamnia. Unanimous decisions in such matters were rare, so the outcome of the proceedings had to be respected. And what of the high justice? Would he sentence a
Knight of Solamnia, a Knight of the Rose, to death, if such action wasn't warranted?
Caradoc considered the death sentence against Lord Soth. If Soth were gone, it might clear the way for Caradoc himself to take control of the keep. An intriguing possibility, but unlikely. As a base of operations for the Knights of the Rose, Dargaard Keep would likely be taken over by another Rose knight and Caradoc would quickly fade into the background as an anonymous Knight of the Crown.
No, his status was tied indelibly to the fate of Lord Soth and, even if
Soth were disgraced, it would be better to be his seneschal than just another Knight of Solamnia.
In the interim, the gathered knights had begun to mutter and grumble, and Caradoc sensed an insurgence gaining momentum. He could not let such thoughts take up root in the minds of his fellow knights. If he did, all hope of Soth returning to Dargaard Keep would be lost.
'There isn't one of us who doesn't owe his life to Lord Soth,' he said.
'I know he's saved mine several times and I suspect the same holds true for all of us.'
The majority of knights were leaning toward supporting Caradoc, but there were still a few who remained unconvinced.
'You, Knight Krejlgaard,' continued Caradoc. 'Did he not pull you from the darkest depths of the Vingaard River after you fell from your mount during a crossing?'
The Crown knight lowered his head and was silent.
'Meyer Seril, didn't Lord Soth provide food for your family when their entire crop was destroyed by locusts?' 'Aye,' said Seril. 'That he did.'
'And you, Derik Grimscribe, didn't our lord sponsor your petition to the knighthood when all the others felt you too weak for the order?'
'I'm ashamed to admit I had forgotten,' said Grimscribe.
'Seems many of us have!' shouted Caradoc. 'And we should all be ashamed for doubting-even for a second- the innocence of our lord. For I know, with a certainty and a strength of conviction I have never felt before on any matter'-Caradoc paused and lowered the volume of his voice-'if one of us had been found guilty of such a crime and sentenced to death,
Lord Soth wouldn't be wasting time debating our guilt or innocence.'
The knights spoke among themselves and it appeared to Caradoc that he had managed to persuade the last few dissenters to see the other side of the sword.
'What have you got in mind, Knight Caradoc?' asked Colm Farold.
Caradoc looked right and left even though the tavern had been cleared and no one was in the room except for his fellow knights. Still, he spoke in a hushed voice. 'I propose we rescue him.'
'But he's being guarded by knights such as ourselves,' said Farold.
'Tonight, he is. Yes,' said Caradoc. 'But perhaps not so tomorrow morning.'
Farold nodded. 'I'm with you.'
The confidence and conviction exhibited by Farold seemed to inspire the others.
'I'm with you as well,' said Meyer Seril.
'And I,' nodded Derik Grimscribe.
Until one by one, all of Soth's knights were in agreement.
The morning sun was nowhere to be seen. It remained hidden behind a layer of dark and heavy clouds that caused the night's darkness to linger far longer than usual.
To add to the chill in the air, a cold wind was blowing in over the Bay of Branchala, something more than a few residents of Palanthas interpreted as an omen, convincing them to spend the day indoors. Others simply refused to watch, not wanting their memory of the gallant knight to be tainted by the humiliating spectacle of a public execution.
Still, the majority of people had braved the wet and cold and ventured out to watch the beheading. Already, the streets were lined with citizens from all classes, from clerics and merchants, to tradesmen and laborers. Fruit vendors were doing an especially brisk business, suddenly finding eager customers for all their wares, even the most rotten of fruits, vegetables and eggs.
Soth was awakened at dawn and offered a final meal of bread and water, which he refused. Then he was led onto the back of a cart, stripped down to the waist and chained by the wrists to a heavy timber post that rose up from the center of the cart's wooden floor.
The knights entrusted with the task of preparing Soth for transport seemed to be unenthusiastic about their work. Indeed they almost treated the job with disdain, saying nothing to the disgraced knight and avoiding looking directly into his eyes. Here was one of their own, one of the greatest Knights of Solamnia, reduced to the level of a common criminal.
In their hearts, the question as to whether Soth was guilty or not was of little consequence. He was a Knight of the Rose and he deserved a better fate. But in their minds, the knights knew that the Oath and the
Measure had little sympathy for knights who strayed from the path. And to that end, it is even written in the Measure that knights must be more severely punished for their crimes than the common man because anything less would hurt the collective reputation of all knights.
For that reason, the Solamnic Knights tending to Soth on the morning of his execution wanted nothing more than to complete their task quickly and be done with it.
Soth understood this and made it easier on them by saying nothing as they secured him to the post.
At last it was done and his wrists were securely bound and fixed to the top of the post. Soth made a token effort to pull himself free, but knew that any decent squire could have done a proper job of securing him.
As the knights collected their things, one lingered behind. He was a young Crown knight by the look of his clothes, but nothing else about the man was familiar to Soth, most likely because he was recently petitioned to the knighthood.
He looked at Soth, a hint of sorrow in his eyes.
'Paladine have mercy on your soul,' he said.
Soth looked at the young man and realized that he had probably been suckling at his mother's breast when Soth first became a Solamnic
Knight. The thought of this bey taking pity on him, angered Soth to no end.
He laughed at the young knight, then said, 'No, boy.
May Paladine have mercy on yours!'
The knight looked shaken by Soth's words, stumbling as he got off the cart.
Soth continued to laugh.
Soth's loyal knights had been up for hours, making plans by lamplight until the sun's rays were bright enough to properly illuminate the secluded livery stable they'd moved their meeting to in order to avoid being watched or overheard by spies of the high justice.
What they planned to do would not be easy. Had Soth been taken prisoner by a band of ogres, or barbarians, or been placed under some spell by a pack of goblins, his rescue would have likely been a simple matter.
