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.”
12
The Knight of the Black Rose.
“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.
“But the knight was halted in his journey by elven women, disciples of the Kingpriest, who knew of Lord Soth’s crime and threatened to ruin him. To weaken the effects of the elfmaid’s love, they intimated that she had been unfaithful to him in his absence.
“Soth’s passions took hold of him, destroying his reason. In a jealous rage he rode back to Dargaard Keep. Entering his door, he accused the innocent girl of betraying him. Then the Cataclysm struck. The great chandelier in the entryway fell to the floor, consuming the elfmaid and her child in flames. As she died, she called down a curse upon the knight, condemning him to eternal, dreadful life. Soth and his followers perished in the fire, only to be reborn in hideous form.”
“So this is what he hears,” Ariakas murmured, listening.
13
The trap.
Bakaris slept fitfully in his jail cell. Though haughty and insolent during the day, his nights were tortured by erotic dreams of Kitiara and fearful dreams of his execution at the hands of the Knights of Solamnia. Or perhaps it was his execution at Kitiara’s hands. He was never certain, when he woke in a cold sweat, which it had been. Lying in his cold cell in the still hours of the night when he could not sleep, Bakaris cursed the elven woman who had been the cause of his downfall. Over and over he plotted his revenge upon her—if only she would fall into his hands.