But instead, he was the prisoner of the Knights of Solamnia. His followers would have virtually no advantage because the knights they would be pitting themselves against were just as skilled as they were.
And to make matters worse, there would be more guards than rescuers, making the chances of freeing Soth unharmed very slim indeed.
They had discussed tactics long into the night and it was Caradoc who finally came up with something that might tip the scales in their favor.
'We are Knights of Solamnia, are we not?'
'Yes, of course,' the knights agreed.
'And it is assumed that we will accept Soth's fate and conduct ourselves according to the Oath and the Measure.'
The knights were silent, awaiting Caradoc's next words.
'Well then, any attempt to free our lord would come as a surprise since none would expect us to reject the decision of the high justice.'
The knights remained silent, considering it.
Finally, Wersten Kern spoke. 'But what you're saying is that such a rescue wouldn't be expected because what it amounts to is treason, something that will likely mark us as outlaws and get us banished from the Knights of Solamnia.'
Caradoc sighed. If Kern was having second thoughts, then some of the others were as well. That meant that Caradoc had one last chance to convince the knights of their task. If he failed now Soth would be doomed. 'No, not treason,' said Caradoc. 'Our rescue will be an act of tremendous loyalty toward our lord. And in regard to becoming outlaws, how do you know mat our reputations haven't already been damaged through our association with Lord Soth? We can't even be sure that we'll be allowed to leave the city without being put on trial ourselves.'
Kern pondered Caradoc's words, then finally nodded.
'Caradoc is right. We're probably already damned in the eyes of the other knights.' A pause. 'If that's the case, then
I think using the element of surprise is the best chance we have of rescuing Lord Soth and leaving Palanthas alive.'
The knights muttered agreement.
'All right then,' said Caradoc. 'Perhaps we should begin working out the details.'
The horse cart started with a sudden lurch, then rolled smoothly-if not noisily-out into the courtyard of the Hall of High Justice. There the driver stopped to pick up his escort of four mounted knights in highly polished plate armor, one positioned at each of the cart's corners.
With the knights in place, the cart left the courtyard and began its journey through the streets of Palanthas.
The layout of the city was like that of a gigantic wheel, with each road being a spoke leading directly to the hub.
They were currently in Old City, which was made up of the Hall of High Justice, the ancient library of Astinus, the palace, homes for the Knights of Solamnia and other structures important to the city's defense, politics and finances.
In a few minutes the procession passed through the wall that separated Old City from the newer parts of Palanthas.
On the other side of the wall, the streets were wider and less crowded and the air seemed fresher, cleaner and infinitely more breathable.
Soth took a deep breath… And was hit hard on the side of the head by a rotten egg.
It was the first of many.
The wheel-like layout of Palanthas proved to be of benefit to Soth's knights. Because all of the city's roads led to its center, each of the knights could take a different route to the execution site and therefore inconspicuously arrive as a group and remain unnoticed until it was time to free Soth and make good their escape.
Meyer Seril had volunteered to follow the route that Lord Soth would be taking. He joined the procession as it emerged from the wall separating the old and new cities, then fell into line with the others following.
Despite the fact that Seril had been wearing his helm and looked like most of the other Knights of Solamnia in the procession, Soth had recognized the three white stockings on his mount and nodded to Seril as he passed.
Seril had given a slight nod, acknowledging Soth.
After that, Soth held his head even higher, despite the fact that he was continuously being pelted with rotten eggs and tomatoes, even several hardened cakes of dried horse dung.
It broke Seril's heart to see his lord being treated in such a way. When he saw a commoner to his right throwing an egg-an egg which hit Soth squarely in the back-Seril moved his horse forward until it was in front of the offending peasant. Then he pulled hard on his reins, forcing the horse to miss a step and kick with his hind legs in order to regain its balance.
The horse's right rear hoof shot up from the ground, catching the man in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backward through the air.
Seril looked back and saw him lying flat on his back, struggling to regain his feet, but unable to do so.
'Beg your pardon,' said Seril apologetically. 'Are you all right?'
The commoner was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer.
Colm Farold was the first of Soth's knights to arrive at the city's center square-the execution site. He had traveled in from the southeast corner of the city and therefore had the shortest distance to cover.
Shortly after Farold, Caradoc appeared from the road leading in from due south. Then Wersten Kern came in from the north, leading a second horse by its reins. It was a large horse, and appeared to be strong enough for the task that would be asked of it. But despite the horse's obvious size and strength, it lacked the same lineage as the mounts belonging to the Knights of Solamnia. When they set out across the Solamnic Plains the horse would inevitably fall behind. The question was, how long would it be before that happened?
As more of his loyal knights began to appear in the square, Soth seemed to become more defiant. Indeed, he was standing straighter now and did not flinch when struck by the rotten projectiles thrown by the angrier members of the crowd.
His long black hair was tangled and matted, pasted against his dirty flesh in some spots, but standing up on end and looking as ragged as wildfire in others. His hard, muscled body was mottled by splotches of red, green and yellow, giving him the appearance of a barbarian in war paint rather than a disgraced Knight of the Rose.
The cart Soth was standing on slowly moved into place next to the execution platform. On the platform, the black helmed executioner patiently waited for his victim to be brought into position. Although the sky was still overcast, the executioner's huge double-sided axe still glinted menacingly in the sunlight that managed to break through the clouds.
As the cart came to a stop, Caradoc clenched the reins of his mount more tightly in his fist. It was up to him to give the signal to the rest of the knights.
Caradoc checked the position of the sun, then made a final survey of the scene. Off to the right, the higher officials had yet to take the places that had been set aside for them. There were knights along the fringes of the crowd, but none seemed to be paying too much attention at present because nothing much was happening and the thought of Soth attempting to escape was probably the furthest thing from their minds.
Caradoc looked at each of Soth's knights in turn. Each one nodded slightly, signifying they were ready. Then he glanced at Lord Soth; he looked anxious to make good his escape.
Caradoc raised his hands, gesturing at Soth to be patient.
A commotion erupted at one edge of the square as the high justice, high clerist, and high warrior appeared.
Caradoc waited for them to near their places, then gestured with a slightly upraised finger to a woman standing on the opposite side of the square.
'My baby!' she cried. 'Someone's taken my baby!'
Attention suddenly swung from one end of the square to the other as everyone began looking around them in
