Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [69]
“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.”
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, condeming 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.
And in the climate of dreams
When you recall her, when the world of the dream
expands, wavers in light,
when you stand at the edge of blessedness and sun,
Then we shall make you remember,
shall make you live again
through the long denial of body
For you were first dark in the light’s hollow, expanding like a stain, a cancer
For you were the shark in the slowed water beginning to move
For you were the notched head of a snake, sensing forever warmth and form
For you were inexplicable death in the crib, the long house in betrayal
And you were more terrible than this in a loud alley of visions, for you passed through unharmed, unchanging
As the women screamed, unraveling silence, halving the door of the world, bringing forth monsters
As a child opened in parabolas of fire There at the borders of two lands burning
As the world split, wanting to swallow you back willing to give up everything to lose you in darkness.
You passed through these unharmed, unchanging, but now you see them
strung on our words—on your own conceiving
as you pass from night—to awareness of night
to know that hatred is the calm of philosophers
that its price is forever
that it draws you through meteors
through winter