Маргарет Уэйс - Dragons of Spring Dawning

“They have not!” Kitiara snapped, her brown eyes flashing. Leaning across the table, she caught hold of Ariakas’s hand as he was about to raise the wineglass to his lips. “As for the good dragons, my lord, my spies tell me their return was due to an elflord and a silver dragon breaking into the temple at Sanction where they discovered what was happening to the good dragon eggs. Whose fault was that? Who slipped up there? Guarding that temple was your responsibility—”

Furiously, Ariakas wrenched his hand free of Kitiara’s grip. Hurling the wineglass across the room, he stood and faced her.

“By the gods, you go too far!” he shouted, breathing heavily.

“Quit posturing,” Kitiara said. Coolly rising to her feet, she turned and walked across the room. “Follow me to my war room, and I will explain my plans.”

Ariakas stared down at the map of northern Ansalon. “It might work,” he admitted.

“Of course, it will work,” Kit said, yawning and stretching languidly. “My troops have run before them like frightened rabbits. Too bad the knights weren’t astute enough to notice that we always drifted southward, and they never wondered why my forces just seemed to melt away and vanish. Even as we speak, my armies are gathering in a sheltered valley south of these mountains. Within a week, an army several thousand strong will be ready to march on Kalaman. The loss of their ‘Golden General’ will destroy their morale. The city will probably capitulate without a fight. From there, I regain all the land we appear to have lost. Give me command of that fool Toede’s armies to the south, send the flying citadels I’ve asked for, and Solamnia will think it’s been hit by another Cataclysm!”

“But the elfwoman—”

“Need not concern us,” Kitiara said.

Ariakas shook his head. “This seems the weak link in your plans, Kitiara. What about Half-Elven? Can you be certain he won’t interfere?”

“It doesn’t matter about him. She is the one who counts and she is a woman in love.” Kitiara shrugged. “She trusts me, Ariakas. You scoff, but it’s true. She trusts me too much and Tanis Half-Elven too little. But that’s always the way of lovers. The ones we love most are those we trust least. It proved quite fortunate Bakaris fell into their hands.”

Hearing a change in her voice, Ariakas glanced at Kitiara sharply, but she had turned from him, keeping her face averted. Immediately he realized she was not as confident as she seemed, and then he knew she had lied to him. The half-elf! What about him? Where was he, for that matter? Ariakas had heard a great deal about him, but had never met him. The Dragon Highlord considered pressing her on this point, then abruptly changed his mind. Much better to have in his possession the knowledge that she had lied. It gave him a power over this dangerous woman. Let her relax in her supposed complacency.

Yawning elaborately, Ariakas feigned indifference. “What will you do with the elfwoman?” he asked as she would expect him to ask. Ariakas’s passion for delicate blonde women was well known.

Kitiara raised her eyebrows, giving him a playful look. “Too bad, my lord,” she said mockingly, “but Her Dark Highness has asked for the lady. Perhaps you could have her when the Dark Queen is finished.”

Ariakas shivered. “Bah, she’ll be of no use to me then. Give her to your friend. Lord Soth. He liked elfwomen once upon a time, if I remember correctly.”

“You do,” murmured Kitiara. Her eyes narrowed. She held up her hand. “Listen,” she said softly.

Ariakas fell silent. At first he heard nothing, then he gradually became aware of a strange sound—a wailing keen, as if a hundred women mourned their dead. As he listened, it grew louder and louder, piercing the stillness of the night.

The Dragon Highlord set down his wineglass, startled to see his hand trembling. Looking at Kitiara, he saw her face pale beneath its tan. Her large eyes were wide. Feeling his eyes upon her, Kitiara swallowed and licked her dry lips.

“Awful, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I faced horrors in the Towers of High Sorcery,” said Ariakas softly, “but that was nothing compared to this. What is it?”

“Come,” Kit said, standing up. “If you have the nerve, I’ll show you.”

Together, the two left the war room, Kitiara leading Ariakas through the winding corridors of the castle until they came back to Kit’s bedroom above the circular entry way with the vaulted ceiling.

“Stay in the shadows,” Kitiara warned.

An unnecessary warning, Ariakas thought as they crept softly out onto the balcony overlooking the circular room. Looking down over the edge of the balcony, Ariakas was overcome with sheer horror at the sight below him. Sweating, he drew back swiftly in the shadows of Kitiara’s bedroom.

“How can you stand that?” he asked her as she entered and shut the door softly behind her. “Does that go on every night?”

“Yes,” she said, trembling. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. Within a moment she was back in control. “Sometimes I think I’m used to it, then I make the mistake of looking down there. The song isn’t so bad...”

“It’s ghastly!” Ariakas muttered, wiping cold sweat from his face. “So Lord Soth sits down there on his throne every night, surrounded by his skeletal warriors, and the dark hags sing that horrible lullaby!”

“And it is the same song, always,” Kitiara murmured. Shivering, she absently picked up the empty wine carafe, then set it back down on the table. “Though the past tortures him, he cannot escape it. Always he ponders, wondering what he might have done to avoid the fate that dooms him to walk forever upon the land without rest. The dark elven women, who were part of his downfall, are forced to relive his story with him. Nightly they must repeat it. Nightly he must hear it.”

“What are the words?”

“I know them, now, almost as well as he does.” Kitiara laughed, then shuddered. “Call for another carafe of wine and I’ll tell you his tale, if you have the time.”

“I have time,” Ariakas said, settling back in his chair. “Though I must leave in the morning if I am to send the citadels.”

Kitiara smiled at him, the charming, crooked smile that so many had found so captivating.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I will not fail you again.”

“No,” said Ariakas coolly, ringing a small silver bell, “I can promise you that, Kitiara. If you do, you will find his fate"—he motioned downstairs where the wailing had reached a shivering pitch—“a pleasant one compared to your own.”

“As you know,” began Kitiara, “Lord Soth was a true and noble knight of Solamnia. But he was an intensely passionate man, lacking in self-discipline, and this was his downfall.

“Soth fell in love with a beautiful elfmaid, a disciple of the Kingpriest of Istar. He was married at the time, but thoughts of his wife vanished at the sight of the elfmaid’s beauty. Forsaking both his sacred marriage vows and his knightly vows, Soth gave in to his passion. Lying to the girl, he seduced her and brought her to live at Dargaard Keep, promising to marry her. His wife disappeared under sinister circumstances.”

Kitiara shrugged, then continued:

“According to what I’ve heard of the song, the elfmaid remained true to the knight, even after she discovered his terrible misdeeds. She prayed to the Goddess Mishakal that the knight be allowed to redeem himself and, apparently, her prayers were answered. Lord Soth was given the power to prevent the Cataclysm, though it would mean sacrificing his own life.

“Strengthened by the love of the girl he had wronged, Lord Soth left for Istar, fully intending to stop the Kingpriest and restore his shattered honor.