Soth's words struck her heart like a dagger. The tears she had been holding back streamed from the corners of her eyes. 'How dare you accuse me,' she said. 'I loved you always. You saved my life. How could I ever do anything to hurt you?'
'You lay with me while I was still wed to Korinne. If you ignored one oath of matrimony, why should I believe you would honor the one you swore to me?'
'After Korinne was with child I wanted to leave the keep. But you, you were the one who wanted me to remain. You asked me to stay here so that you could be unfaithful to Korinne.'
Peradur had begun to cry, wailing loudly after listening to his parents argue for so long. The child's cry reverberated through the keep, which had quickly emptied after the extent of Soth's anger had become apparent. It was possible that there still might be people in the hall peeking around corners, but if they were there, they were keeping themselves well hidden.
'So, you accuse me,' said Soth, 'when it is you who make a mockery of our marriage, bedding any man you please.'
'By the hand of Mishakal,' Isolde whispered. 'What demon possesses you?'
'Do you even know who the child's father is?'
'You are his father,' Isolde said softly between sobs. 'You are.'
'Treacherous, deceitful, lying witch!'
Isolde said nothing.
Instinctively she crouched onto the floor to protect her child, and wept.
Soth stepped forward, drew his sword.
Isolde looked up.
'In the name of Paladine,' she whispered. 'No, please-'
At that moment the keep was rocked by the shock waves created by the impact of the fiery mountain-sized ball as it slammed into the unsuspecting city of Istar.
Like everywhere else on Krynn, Solamnia heaved from the impact. The keep began to crumble. Jagged cracks began to appear along mortar lines between the bloodstones.
Items throughout the keep toppled from their places. The keep was filled with the sounds of clattering steel, smashing pots and the cries of people caught by falling debris.
The floor of the hall in which they stood began to split apart. The shaking of the ground caused Isolde to stumble backward onto the floor with the baby cradled in her arms.
'Help me,' she cried, trying to rise up.
Soth shook his head. 'Help you who have betrayed me so completely?'
She raised a hand toward him, but instead of assisting her, he turned his back on her.
The ground rumbled once more, shaking the keep to its very foundations.
Isolde screamed.
Soth turned around just in time to see the great chandelier hanging above the hall come loose from its mount. As if in another dimension, or shrouded in some spell, the chandelier fell slowly, seeming to fall inches at a time, taking forever to reach the floor.
Instinctively, Soth was compelled to do something to save her. He began moving toward Isolde, but like the chandelier itself, he could hardly move fast enough.
In the end Soth was left helpless and could only watch as the chandelier's ornate silver and gold swords, crowns and roses, impaled
Isolde, nailing her to the jagged floor of the hall, unable to move.
In an instant, all Soth's maddening rage was gone.
He looked at his wife, saw the blood flowing freely from her wounds and open mouth, and could only think of how he had failed her utterly.
'Take him,' came the ragged, garbled voice of Isolde.
Soth looked over at her and saw that despite her injuries, she had been able to protect the child from harm.
She extended her arms, and held the blanket-wrapped child up to him.
'Take him,' she said again.
Soth knew he should take the child and care for him, protect him from the ravages of the Cataclysm, and shelter him from all the hardships of life that would surely follow such devastation. But as he moved forward to take hold of the child, he heard a voice whisper in his ear.
It was a male voice, strong and powerful and unlike anything he'd ever heard on the face of Krynn. Hearing it now, he knew it could only be the voice of a god.
Our children shall bleed for our sins.
Soth stopped in his tracks.
It all made sense to him now. He had suffered for the sins of his father, and instead of accepting his fate and rising above it, he had only compounded his father's sins by committing even more ghastly ones of his own. His sins were far worse than anything his father had ever done. If he saved Peradur now from the flames, it would only be to give him a life of misery and shame as he would be destined to suffer for the sins of his father, and those of his father's father. And as he suffered, he would commit sins of his own, worse than Soth's.
It was a never ending cycle.
But not if Soth chose to break it. He could end the cycle.
He took a step back.
The chandelier's candles toppled and rolled across the floor. The flames licked at Isolde's robes and in seconds set them alight.
'Save him,' Isolde begged as the flames began to obscure her face.
Soth remained still, impassive.
'Save your son!' Isolde's voice came out of the flames as if it had already become disembodied, an ethereal thing in the midst of so much destruction.
Soth did not answer, nor move to save the boy.
The fire continued to work its way over her body, chewing at her arms and finally engulfing the shrouded child in flames.
Then the fire began to spread outward from the center of the hall, flowing like water through the keep, up the walls and across the ceiling.
Finally, the voice, Isolde's voice, shouted a curse upon Soth, the words seeming to come from somewhere above the flames.
'You will die this night in fire,' she said. 'Even as your son and I die. You will live one life for every life your folly has brought to an end!'
There were more words, but Soth didn't hear them.
All he could hear were the screams of incredible agony and pain coming from all corners of the keep.
He tried to block out the horrifying sound.
But could not.
Farold, Kern and Caradoc felt the ground shake and stopped their horses in their tracks.
They could see Dargaard Keep in the distance, its rose like towers a welcome sight after such a hard and eventful journey.
But as they stood there looking at the keep in all its glory, they felt the ground give way beneath their mounts and a rush of hot air push against their faces.
'Look there!' shouted Kern, pointing to the sky.
A huge fiery mass, one as big as a mountain, streaked across the darkened sky, leaving a trail of bright yellow orange fire in its wake.
The trail of fire burned white hot, then turned to smoke, blocking out the sun and leaving the land eerily dimmed.
'Is this it?' asked Farold.
'Is this what?' asked Kern.
'The Cataclysm,' answered Caradoc.
