Lord Soth

Chapter 18

The months passed like days for some, like years for others.

For those inside the keep, the months flew by as countless hours were spent preparing the nursery, making clothes or guessing what name the new Soth might be blessed with.

But for Lady Korinne the winter moved at a crawl. While some of her early months were spent performing such motherly duties as decorating the nursery, much of her time was spent resting in bed under the almost constant supervision of the healer, Istvan. His regular examinations always concluded with the same proclamation

"Everything between mother and child is as well as could be expected."

But no matter how many times Korinne heard those words, they did little to ease the pain she felt inside. The child had become more than a simple burden upon her and at times she wondered why she had never heard other pregnant women complain of bouts of such constant, throbbing pain.

And as the months wore on, it was a surprise to no one that an ever-increasing amount of Korinne's time was spent at rest. Throughout the night and much of the day she'd lie in bed, either asleep or in a half-awake sort of daze in which she was almost literally blinded by the pain.

As a result, the winter days and nights seemed to be at a standstill for

Lord Soth, who in aching anticipation of the birth of his child, found he could spend little time with his wife. When she was up and about she tried to occupy herself with some pleasant detail concerning the child-to be. Or, if she were free, he would be occupied by some tedious, but nevertheless important, matter of state. When she slept, the healer had ordered that she not be disturbed, and when she was lying in her bed neither awake nor asleep, she was too affected by her pain to be much of a companion, or even very receptive to Soth's awkward efforts at comforting her.

And so, on one of the coldest days of Deepkolt, Soth looked elsewhere in the keep for companionship. Weeks earlier, he had instructed the healer to provide Isolde with her own private quarters. The healer had done so gladly, putting the elf-maid in a room at the south end of the keep that had not one but two entrances, one leading in from the main hallway, and another leading in from a seldom used storage room. Soth thanked the healer by promising to acquire more blue hyssop for him on his next trip to Palanthas, and never spoke of the matter again.

And now, Soth walked through the cold, damp storage room placing his hand against the inside of the moss covered south wall to guide his way.

When he came up against another wall, he patted his hands against it until he felt the rough grain of several wooden planks butted up against one another. Certain he'd found the door, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Who is it?" came the sweet voice from inside.

"It is I," he said. "Lord Soth."

Seconds later, the door was being opened.

The months continued to pass.

Brookgreen… Yurthgreen… Fleurgreen… At last spring was in the air.

New buds appeared on the branches.

Flowers began to bloom.

And Korinne's child was ready to come into the world.

Soth lay on the bed, his muscular naked body covered with a thin layer of sweat. At his side, the lithe form of Isolde, similarly damp with sweat, nestled into place within his arms. When she'd found a comfortable position she breathed out a deep sigh of satisfaction, then said, "The keep will soon have another mouth to feed."

Soth's smile was brief. Although he did not like to be reminded of his wife and unborn child when he was with Isolde, he'd never told the elf-maid not to mention Korinne, because the times she did were rare.

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "Korinne is due to birth the child any day now."

Isolde looked at Soth with a coy sort of grin.

Soth noticed the look on the elf-maid's face. "What is it?" he asked.

"I'm not talking about Lady Korinne."

Soth was silent for a moment. "If not Korinne, who then?"

"Me," said Isolde. "I'm talking about me."

Soth's mouth opened, but he found himself unable to speak. He sat up in the bed and looked at the elf-maid grinning up at him like a kender who'd just borrowed a large cluster of priceless jewels.

"You mean…"

Isolde nodded.

At first, Soth was overjoyed, but slowly found himself becoming troubled by the news. All he could think of was the problems a bastard child would cause for him within the keep. The secrecy and lies, the problems his offspring — both of them-would have when they would inevitably fight one another for the legacy of the Soth name. He thought of his own half-brother and half-sister, both killed due to his orders to ensure his own succession as sole heir to the Soth name and to the throne of Knightlund.

In a single horrible moment, Soth realized that although he had vowed to distance himself from his father he had actually become his father, producing a bastard child just as his father had done so many years ago-a half-elven child at that.

The words of his father echoed cruelly in his ears.

"Don't be so quick to condemn me, my son," Aynkell Soth had said. "You are of my flesh and of my blood. You always will be. There's too much of me in you for you to be so critical of my life."

Soth shivered at the recollection. Then he looked at Isolde, saw the joy in her eyes, and knew he couldn't bring himself to share with her the sense of dread that was clawing at his heart. "That's wonderful news," he stammered.

"It doesn't sound as if-"

Isolde's words were cut short by a knock upon the door that led out into the main hallway.

"Who is it?" asked Isolde, her voice calm.

"Beg your pardon, but is… milord with you?"

Isolde looked at Soth, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and fear.

"Who dares to call for me here?" bellowed Lord Soth, letting the person outside know that he didn't look favorably upon such a blatant invasion of his privacy.

"It's Caradoc, milord."

Soth rose from the bed and moved toward the door.

"What is it?" he asked, the irritation gone from his voice.

"It's your wife, milord," said Caradoc. "She's birthing the child and is calling for you."

"I will be there at once."

He turned to face Isolde, unable to say anything.

Fortunately, he didn't have to. "Go," said Isolde. "Your wife needs you."

Soth dressed hurriedly and as he rushed down the hallway found that he could hear the agonizing screams of Lady Korinne even before he reached the healer's chambers.

She was obviously in pain, a great deal of pain.

It is said that the pain of childbirth is the most easily forgotten, but

Soth found this hard to believe.

When he reached the healer's quarters he knocked on the door even though, in this situation, he wasn't required to do so. After waiting a few moments, Soth realized no one had heard his knock over the loud cries of Lady Korinne. He opened the door and suddenly heard Korinne's screams at full volume.

At first Soth winced at the sound. Although he'd heard men in battle cry out in agony, he'd never heard such screams as he was hearing now.

He hurried over to Korinne's side. When she saw him, she relaxed somewhat and her wails lessened. He took her hand and held it as she panted to catch her breath.

She was drenched in sweat, her hair pasted down onto her forehead and across her face. Her lips were dry and cracked and her chest rose and fell at a frantic pace, as if she'd just completed a nonstop run from

Palanthas.

"Loren," she said when she was able. "I've been calling for you. Where have you been?"

Soth found it hard to say anything. He saw the trusting look in her eyes, the relief on her face upon his arrival and felt sick that he'd betrayed her. "I was," he said. The next few words seemed to get stuck in his throat for a moment. "I was… reprimanding one of the knights."

"Really," she said, seemingly happy to have her mind diverted by chatter. "Who was it? What did he do wrong?"

"That's not important now," said Soth. "What's important is how you are feeling."

"Can't you see, I'm doing wonderfully-" A sudden stab of pain sliced through Korinne's body and she arched her back. She let out a sharp cry, then lay back on the bed, her eyes closed and at rest.

Soth brushed a hand over Korinne's face and looked over at the healer.

Istvan had been busy off in the corner preparing herb mixtures while

Soth and Korinne had spoken. Now he moved to Korinne's side, wiping her face with a damp cloth.

"What is happening?" asked Soth.

Istvan shook his head. "Everything appears to be progressing normally. I have delivered twenty-seven children in my time and all is as it should be. The pain she is feeling confounds me."

"Can't you prepare something to lessen it?"

"I've tried," Istvan answered with a shrug. "But nothing seems to be working." He looked Korinne over as he patted the damp cloth across her forehead. "Your presence seems to have calmed her. This is the first she's been able to rest for hours."

"Then I will stay until the child is born."

"Thank you," said Istvan. "It might help."

Soth looked at Istvan, wondering about the healer's choice of the word might. Something told Soth that the healer, as was his custom, knew more than he was letting on.

"I can see the head!" cried the healer, sweat dripping down off his nose. He'd wanted to call in an assistant hours ago, but Soth had forbidden it, not wanting any more people than were necessary to see Lady Korinne in such a compromised state.

Soth was out in the hall just on the other side of the door. He had been in the room for the longest time, but his constant concern over

Korinne's agonized shrieks had prompted the healer to ask Soth to leave the room, allowing him to do his work without the interference and misguided concerns of an impassioned observer.

"You must push," said Istvan. "Push harder!"

"I can't," cried Korinne, at the point of exhaustion.

Istvan believed her. He had never in his years seen such a lengthy and painful birth. Everything about the delivery of this child was slow and complicated when in truth there were absolutely no signs warranting complications, or pain for that matter. But here was Korinne, in labor half the day.

"You must try," Istvan said, his voice showing far more compassion than normal. Usually he was very hard on women during birth, forcing them to work harder in order to end their ordeal more quickly. But Korinne had already suffered too much, for too long.

Korinne cut short a moan and pushed.

The child's head moved slightly, no more than the width of several hairs. "Yes, that's it! Very good! Again!"

"It moved?" exclaimed Korinne, her voice breathy and filled with relief.

"Yes, it's coming. Now, push again."

She grimaced and tightened her body, tensing her stomach muscles and trying to squeeze the child through the far-too-small birth canal.

"I see an ear!" cried Istvan. "Keep going!"

Korinne was almost laughing now. She probably felt the child beginning to move a little more each time. After so many hours, she was happy to see it finally out of her body.

She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and grabbed at the wooden rails on either side of the bed.

Then she groaned sharply, and pushed.

Her fingernails cut deeply into the hard, polished wood of the rails.

The child's entire head appeared, followed quickly by its shoulders, neck.

And then… The rest of its body slid out into the world, almost in a gush. Istvan caught the child, and gasped.

He held the child in his hands and for the longest time his mouth moved, but he was unable to speak.

Finally, he said in a whisper, "Mishakal have mercy."

Outside the room, Soth had been waiting for what seemed like hours. The screams of his wife had pained him and now that they had stopped, he feared the worst.

But as he continued to wait in silence, not knowing what had happened was far worse than hearing the constant cries of pain. At last he rose up from where he sat and opened the door to the healer's chambers.

The room seemed even quieter than the hall had been.

Korinne was lying on the bed, her chest rising and falling in a deep and regular rhythm. Istvan sat at his desk with his head in his hands, no doubt exhausted by what had been a lengthy birth.

Soth looked around for the child, but did not see it.

When Soth closed the door behind him, Istvan jumped.

The healer looked over at Soth, his face pale and his eyes wide in something very much like fear. As Soth moved closer, he noticed the old man looking even more aged and haggard than he remembered.

"Is she all right?" asked Soth in a whisper.

Istvan nodded. "Lady Korinne is resting. She will recover."

Soth nodded. "And what of the child?"

"It is resting as well, in the bassinet over there." He pointed to a small cradle made of dark wood, a simple but well constructed piece

Istvan had chosen from the numerous examples Soth and Korinne had received as wedding gifts.

Soth looked at Istvan for several long seconds.

Something wasn't right. If the child was doing well, Istvan would be overjoyed, and Korinne would be holding the child to her breast even in her current state of exhaustion.

And what had Istvan said? It was resting, he'd said. Not he or she, but it.

"Can I see…" Soth began.

"Perhaps it might be best if-"

"I said, can I see my child?" Soth asked, louder this time.

Korinne stirred. "Is that you, Loren?" she asked.

Istvan knew better than to defy Soth twice. "Of course."

He got up from where he sat and walked over to the bassinet. Then he reached into the cradle and took out the bundled child, wrapped tightly in a scarlet blanket. He handed the bundle to Soth.

Soth found it awkward to hold the bundle properly, but he eventually managed to get a firm but gentle grasp. He hadn't held that many babies in his lifetime, but this child felt different. Its body seemed hard and bony.

Istvan turned away, taking up a position near Korinne.

Soth pulled aside the blanket and looked upon… An abomination.

The child's eyes were open wide, shining black and glassy in the dim light from the candles. There were hard nubs of bones along the crown of its head, almost as if it were the offspring of a dragon.

Soth swallowed, his body shuddering in shock. He pulled the blanket further aside and saw… That the child's two arms were on the right side of its body, a leg where the other arm should be. And the second leg was positioned in the center of the lower portion of the trunk, looking much like a tail.

Soth felt his knees go weak and his heart beginning to creep up into his throat.

This was no child of his.

This was the spawn of Evil, the offspring of one of the dark and evil gods.

Soth took another glance at the child and grimaced.

It wasn't even a child.

It was a monster.

And even if there wasn't a dark god at work here, then it could have easily been the work of some other hideous:: beast; a centaur perhaps, or a satyr What else could have) caused such gross deformity of the human body?

The thought of Korinne with another man-with another creature-sent anger flaring through Soth's body.

He wrapped the thing back in the blanket and held it at arm's length.

"Have you seen him?" asked Korinne, her voice soft yet proud. "Is he beautiful?"

Madness roiled in the pit of Soth's belly, slowly making its way to his brain. "Take it!" Soth said to Istvan, holding the child out to the healer.

"What's wrong?" asked Korinne.

"So you think the beast beautiful, do you?" Soth shouted.

"Have you been so blinded by love for the devouring dark that you can't even see the evil offspring you've created?"

"What?" cried Korinne, struggling to sit up. "Let me see him. Let me see my boy!"

"Boy?" said Soth, walking over to Istvan and snatching the blanket from his hands. He unwrapped the child and held it high above his head. "Is this your boy? Or is this the product of monstrous infidelity, evil faithlessness?"

Korinne simply looked at the child, blinking in disbelief.

Her mind was reeling. Finally she shook her head. "No, I've always been faithful to you."

"Liar!" He shook the child as he spoke and Istvan quickly retrieved it.

"I have been, I swear to you!" repeated Korinne.

"Then how do you explain that… that monster?"

"My boy?" Korinne asked, looking to Istvan.

She paused in confusion and then suddenly her face became a mask of terror. She turned her wide eyes upon her husband. "It's your fault. You were the one who created it!" "Has your lover made you mad as well?" shouted Soth.

"Your seed wouldn't give me a child, so I paid a visit to the hedge witch who gave me a child… the child you couldn't produce."

"So, it's born of the blackest sort of magic," Soth hissed.

"No, the blackest of souls," replied Korinne.

For a moment, Korinne's words sent a spike of fear through Soth's heart.

"Istvan," he called. "Leave the room. Now."

Istvan made ready to leave, carrying the child.

"Leave it there!"

Dutifully, Istvan set the child in the bassinet and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Soth turned to face Korinne.

"What madness moves your tongue?"

Korinne was in tears. "The witch told me the health of the child would depend on the purity of your soul. I knew you'd been intimate with the elf, but I could never imagine you'd done so much evil in your life that you could produce such a… such a…" Her voice trailed off and she began to sob openly.

Soth looked at her, the words causing a sudden touch of fear to become mixed in with his rage. If it were true, if the child's health depended on his virtue, it was no wonder that it had been born a… A sort of madness began to seep into his mind as he realized that, as much as he'd tried to avoid them, his father's sins had become his, had become his child's.

The sins of the father, passed on from generation to generation.

"What have you done?" Korinne shouted between sobs.

"What black deed have you done?"

Soth's eyes narrowed as he glared at Korinne. The sudden shock he'd felt at her words had been erased by rage.

And now, utter madness was overtaking him. A potent mixture of rage, anger, jealousy, and self-hate. It consumed him like flame, controlled his actions.

Without answering her question, he drew a dagger from the belt around his waist and held it before him in his fisted right hand.

"What… what are you doing?" she screamed, her eyes wide with terror.

"No, please-"

He was at one with the madness now.

As he moved toward Korinne, the sounds of her screams were suddenly mixed with the sickeningly hoarse grunts of the newborn child.

Minutes later there was only silence.

Caradoc and Istvan had been waiting outside the chamber while Soth was inside with his wife and newborn child.

Why Soth wanted to be alone in the room, particularly without the help of the healer, Caradoc didn't know.

What he did know was that if Soth wanted to be alone in the room, then it was up to him to make sure he remain undisturbed.

When Korinne's screams began, Istvan abruptly got up from where he sat and desperately wanted to gain access to the chambers. It was his job, after all, to heal the sick and ease the suffering of those in pain. But rather than allow him entrance to the room, Caradoc had moved in front of the door, blocking Istvan's way.

"Perhaps it would be best to wait until milord calls you back inside."

Istvan had been troubled by this, and well he should, thought Caradoc, because there was something strange about the birth of this child. So much pain, it wasn't right.

Nevertheless, both Caradoc and Istvan's allegiance was sworn to the lord of the keep and it was their duty to follow his orders.

When Korinne's screams grew louder, Caradoc himself had wanted to break down the door to find out what was happening, but he steeled himself against the impulse and cast a cold eye toward Istvan to make sure the healer did not move.

And now they waited patiently for the appearance of Lord Soth, Caradoc cleaning his fingernails with the end of a stiletto, Istvan doing a variety of stretching exercises designed to ease the troublesome pain in his joints.

The door suddenly moved, then began to swing open on its hinges. Soth appeared in the doorway, his long black hair hanging down from his head like tattered threads, a touch of gray apparent around the temples and streaked throughout with wisps of white.

"Is everything all right, milord?" asked Caradoc.

Soth shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it isn't."

"What's happened?" said Istvan, getting to his feet.

"Unfortunately, both milady and the child… died during childbirth," said Soth, his voice surprisingly calm. He looked directly at Istvan.

"Despite your best efforts."

"But I-" Istvan began to say.

Soth cut him off with a hard look, then turned to face Caradoc.

The seneschal shivered as Soth's cold eyes seem to cut right through him.

"I said, milady and the child died during childbirth." He said each word slowly and clearly. "Despite the heroic efforts of our most brave and gallant healer."

"Yes, milord," said Caradoc.

Soth waited for the healer to speak.

"Yes, milord," Istvan whispered.

Soth nodded, leaned forward to speak directly to Caradoc. "Get rid of the bodies," he said. "And make sure there's nothing left when you are done."

Caradoc swallowed. "Yes, milord." "Good," said Soth. "Istvan. It's been a long night.

Perhaps we should both get some rest." He put a hand on the healer's shoulder and led him away.

Caradoc entered the chamber. After two steps he realized his boots were sticking to blood that had pooled on the surface of the floor.

Nevertheless he continued toward where the bed sat against the far wall of the room.

He stopped dead in his tracks long before he got there.

As he looked at the gore on the bed, his stomach spasmed and he swallowed in an attempt to keep from retching. He covered his mouth and tried to look away, but found he couldn't-his eyes were too firmly locked on the blood-soaked bed.

And while he did his best to block all thought from his mind so that he might be able to complete his assigned task, one thought kept coming back to him.

Even some of Soth's worst enemies-beings who championed the forces of evil and who were killed in the intense heat of battle-had never been so completely savaged.