Runescape: Return to Canifis Read online

  The two men fell silent for a moment.

  “Tell me, old friend, do you really believe it will come true?” Lord Despaard sounded weary.

  “I don’t know,” Papelford responded. “But who could claim to be a truer king than King Roald? His line goes back at least a thousand years.”

  “I hope you are right.”

  A new tune started from inside the hall, and a poet began to speak.

  “Ah, the ‘Ballad of Tenebra and Ailane’,” Papelford muttered. “Come, this tragedy is a favourite of King Roald’s, for it reminds him—as well as the rest of us—of what his family have suffered at the hands of Morytania. Although he needs no reminding, not after this creature murdered his fiancée.”

  Murdered his fiancée?

  “The kingdom need not know that,” Lord Despaard warned as the two men walked back into the light of the torches. Gar’rth turned, feigning surprise.

  They said nothing as they vanished into the hall, and Gar’rth was left alone.

  He stood on the terrace for several minutes, half-listening to the ballad, before he caught a familiar scent behind him.

  “Arisha,” he said without turning.

  The barbarian priestess approached him, her booted feet crunching the gravel.

  “I saw you leave,” she said. “You’ve been gone some time.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you all right, Gar’rth?”

  “I don’t like it here, Arisha. I am afraid.”

  “You?” She didn’t attempt to mask her surprise. “Afraid of what? Jerrod won’t...”

  Gar’rth gave a harsh laugh.

  “Not Jerrod, Arisha. I am afraid of...” He paused and shook his head. “I have run from one place to another, then another. I can’t keep running.”

  He looked at her, and felt a sudden anger when he saw her eyes widen in sympathy.

  “Then speak to Kara, Gar’rth,” she said. “Tell her how you feel.”

  “She knows, Arisha.”

  “No she doesn’t,” the barbarian replied. “She suspects, but she does not know.”

  Gar’rth shook his head again.

  “She would say no,” he said grimly. “She knows what I am.”

  “And she knows who you are, as well. She knows the good you’ve done at her side.” Arisha fell silent, and Gar’rth saw her shiver. “It is cold out here,” she said after a moment. “Will you come inside with me?”

  “Yes,” he said. He looked her straight in the eye, and he thought he saw her blink nervously. “But not because I feel the cold. I rarely do.”

  Inside the hall, the ballad was ending and had given way to more raucous behaviour. From his position near the door Gar’rth saw a small crowd gathered around a table, cheering. He noted Lady Anne looking on, watching from the stage.

  The crowd around the table jostled slightly, revealing two men engaged in an arm wrestle.

  “It’s Theodore,” Arisha murmured with a slight smile.

  Gar’rth watched the contest with interest before the crowd hid the contestants from view. Someone gave a cry and then another man shouted in victory as half the crowd cheered and the rest groaned.

  “Sir Theodore loses! It seems not even the finest warrior in Varrock can beat Sir Frey.” The crowd parted and Gar’rth saw Theodore stagger up and massage his right hand. The knight’s opponent was a much larger and older man, with arms thick and powerful like a blacksmith’s.

  I could beat him, Gar’rth thought. I would be able to do so easily.

  Arisha noted his hesitation.

  “Come along, Gar’rth. Let us return to the stage.”

  They got only halfway up the steps before Lady Anne stopped them.

  “Oh, Gar’rth,” she said sweetly. “Would you care to escort me outside for some air on the terrace? You are the only one of Kara’s companions I have yet to speak with.” She pointedly ignored his silent frown.

  “I am afraid Castimir requires his presence, Lady Anne,” Arisha cut in sharply.

  “Castimir can wait,” Gar’rth said, anger edging into his words. “The hall, inside, too much noise,” he explained. “Outside is better.”

  He felt Arisha’s concerned stare as Lady Anne put her arm through his.

  They are not my keepers. I am not an animal, he thought as she led him back toward the terrace yet again.

  “I can tell that you do not enjoy these occasions,” Lady Anne remarked. “I understand that. You are not from Misthalin, and our ways must seem strange to you.” They were outside now, in the cool air, alone. “And I have also seen the way you look at Kara-Meir.”

  Gar’rth shook his head slowly.

  Lady Anne laughed.

  “Oh, don’t be so coy!” she said. “Your feelings for her are obvious.” Her blue eyes fixed Gar’rth’s back pupils. “And so are Theodore’s.” She turned her back on him and waited. But he did not reply. Instead, a man’s voice coughed gently, and Gar’rth turned to see a youth waiting nearby.

  “Lady Anne,” the boy said. “Forgive my interruption, but I bring a message from Lord Hyett.”

  “Oh,” her voice was flat. “Where is it?”

  “I have been asked to relay it to you in private, Lady Anne.”

  “Oh, how tiresome. Does the Black Boar have time enough to waste on me, rather than make his peace with whichever god he believes in? Very well.” She turned to him briefly. “Excuse me Gar’rth.”

  He bowed awkwardly as Lady Anne strode to the opposite end of the terrace. As with Lord Despaard and the librarian Papelford, their hushed voices were clear to him over such a distance.

  “Lord Hyett begs you to see him, Lady Anne.”

  “I will go tomorrow to pay my respects.”

  “He will be dead by then,” came the reply. “Sir Theodore gave him a heinous wound.”

  “Well, good for Sir Theodore,” Lady Anne hissed coldly. “I have never liked your master. He is a brute. The Black Boar can go to his grave pining for me, for all I care. Go and tell him that, and tell him that I will think of his last hours with relish.”

  “Lady Anne, please, have compassion to a man who has only ever deSired your love.”

  She laughed.

  “Don’t be a fool, boy,” she scolded. “The Black Boar was a monster in life. It is an open secret that he worshipped Zamorak, just as he was known to work with the Kinshra in their patrols in The Wilderness. He was an evil, evil man who sought to reclaim his lands by marriage and murder. His first two wives died horribly—and he then attempted to marry me. No doubt I would have died also. No. I am glad Sir Theodore has killed him. It has saved me the job.”

  Lady Anne stepped toward Gar’rth. She stopped once and spoke again, this time without any attempt at privacy.

  “Be sure to tell that to Lord Hyett, as I dance and enjoy myself tonight in the company of better men. And tell him I smiled when I said it. Smiled and laughed.”

  As if to illustrate she gave a laugh that reminded Gar’rth of breaking glass. The youth bowed his head and ran quickly away into the darkness of the bailey. Lady Anne turned back.

  “You must forgive me, Gar’rth,” she said. “It is news of Lord Hyett, the knight Theodore fought. He is not expected to live out the night.” She smiled happily. “As you can probably tell, I have no fondness for him. Theodore’s wound is a just one, and long overdue.”

  She rested her hands on the balustrade.

  “But what were we talking of? Oh, yes. Theodore and Kara. He wrote her a letter, you see. One that I read—quite by accident I assure you.”

  Now it was Gar’rth’s turn to laugh. Lady Anne looked suddenly hurt, though he couldn’t tell if it was sincere.

  “It was!” she protested. “I knocked her satchel over when she was bathing, and a strange dagger fell out of it. When I put it back I found a letter to Kara from Theodore. I know it was wrong, Gar’rth, but I couldn’t resist... what are you frowning for?”

  “Which dagger?” he demanded. “Kara carries none in her
satchel.” He knew that for certain, from their time in The Wilderness.

  “It was a strange one, with two blades.” She waved her hand. But that’s not important—” She continued, but he didn’t hear her now.

  The same dagger that Pia used to cut Jerrod, he knew with growing certainty. It must be! That was why I felt so ill on our journey to Varrock! Exactly as Velko said Jerrod suffered, I suffered too.

  Fear and anger twisted themselves up in Gar’rth’s stomach as he doubled over, holding the balustrade, his face hidden in shadow. He breathed deeply, gasping, and felt fire burn his skin.

  Not now!

  He saw Lady Anne’s shadow move closer.

  “Gar’rth, what is it?” she asked, confusion in her voice. “Shall I get help?”

  Her scent was suddenly far more real than before.

  Stronger, more tempting.

  He felt her hand on his shoulder and he turned to see her, his face in the torchlight.

  Lady Anne gasped when she saw him.

  “Your eyes!” she said. “What’s wrong with you?” But she didn’t wait for an explanation. Instead, her face more pale than before, she fled back into the hall, leaving Gar’rth alone again.

  He felt his tears on his face, and his skin went suddenly cold.

  Why didn’t you tell me, Kara? You are a friend to me, more than a friend.

  The fever subsided.

  He breathed in deeply.

  “Gar’rth?” It was Arisha’s voice now. Somehow he hadn’t picked up her scent.

  “I am all right, Arisha,” he said angrily. “I don’t need you, or Kara or Ebenezer to keep watching me.”

  “I saw Lady Anne come back into the hall,” Arisha replied. “She was afraid, I think.”

  Gar’rth laughed.

  “Perhaps you should be more careful,” she advised.

  Does she know about the dagger also? Has she kept the secret from me?

  “More careful?” He laughed again. “Perhaps I’ve been too careful.”

  He turned and strode purposefully into the hall, Arisha following.

  “Gar’rth! What are you doing?” There was a panic in Arisha’s voice—fear that he had never heard before. Not even in battle.

  It made him feel powerful.

  He strode over to the seated Lord Frey. The old noble gave him a grin.

  “You wish to wager boy? I sent your Sir Theodore packing. Nearly snapped his wrist.”

  “I am no Sir Theodore,” Gar’rth growled, and the man raised an eyebrow.

  “Gar’rth you mustn’t,” Arisha told him sternly. Someone laughed.

  “Listen to the barbarian, if you wish to keep your money,” an anonymous man joked.

  Gar’rth dropped his belt pouch on the table. Lord Frey overturned it and then gave a gasp. For it was a gem, worth a small fortune.

  “I won’t take your money, boy,” he said, looking up. “Not this. It is too much. I will not risk bad feeling between us over such a contest.”

  “Very well,” Gar’rth countered. “Then we play without betting.”

  Gar’rth put the gem back in his pouch and returned it to his belt before driving his elbow onto the tabletop. Lord Frey stared bemused as the cries of the onlookers grew louder. Finally, he nodded.

  “Fine, boy. Fine. I don’t know what you wish to prove, but you have your game.”

  Lord Frey grabbed hold of the table edge with his free hand and brought his other arm onto the surface, mirroring Gar’rth’s actions.

  “You ever done this before, boy?” Lord Frey asked.

  Gar’rth simply nodded.

  “Then you know the technique.” He nodded again. “Good luck.”

  “Stop humouring him, Lord Frey! The boy’s arrogance has earned him a lesson.”

  Gar’rth looked to the stage and saw Lady Anne watching him fearfully. His behaviour had not gone unnoticed by his friends, either. Theodore and Kara were also staring anxiously, and Ebenezer, Doric, and Castimir were already walking down the steps toward him...

  Lord Frey suddenly gave a push.

  Gar’rth’s arm lurched backwards before he corrected it, slanting at an angle.

  The crowd yelled.

  “You are a strong one, boy.” Lord Frey grinned. “I’ll give you that.”

  And so are you, Gar’rth realised. Maybe more than I. He gritted his teeth as he summoned his strength. He felt his bones creaking under the strain.

  But slowly—near imperceptibly—Lord Frey’s arm was pushed back.

  Yet the older man laughed.

  “By the gods, boy, it’s been long since I’ve had a match with such as you. Maybe if I were younger...” He breathed in deeply, most likely in preparation for a final attempt to force Gar’rth’s arm back.

  But Gar’rth would show no mercy. Not today.

  He was waiting for the push when it came. His arm was like steel.

  “That’s impossible,” Lord Frey moaned as the crowd shouted and clapped. Gar’rth added to the pressure, and the old man’s wrist snapped back onto the tabletop. There was a tremendous yell from the onlookers. Lord Frey rubbed his arm and looked at Gar’rth with a mixture of respect and concern.

  As Gar’rth stood, he was aware of that look—of every eye upon him. He saw Theodore’s face, noted Kara’s sudden fear, and then he saw Ebenezer, marching toward him with black thunder all over his features.

  “Outside,” the alchemist ordered in a cold fury. “Outside. Now.” Gar’rth nodded, but Ebenezer’s anger couldn’t wipe away the sense of accomplishment.

  It was worth it. They know who is the stronger now.

  Kara knows it.

  Theodore knows it.

  Gar’rth nodded and turned on his heel, back toward the terrace that seemed his constant destination for the evening.

  “What in Saradomin’s name do you think you were doing?” The old man’s face was an angry bright red, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

  Gar’rth didn’t reply.

  “Answer me, Gar’rth!”

  Booted feet crunching the gravel underfoot were the signal that Theodore and Kara had joined them. He was alone with his friends. Their faces wore concerned masks. Castimir’s hand was in his pocket, Doric stood with his arms crossed, Arisha looked on sympathetically, and Kara and Theodore waited patiently for an explanation.

  “I just... I don’t like this. Here.”

  None of his friends moved, or said a word.

  But are they really my friends? He wondered silently. Kara has hidden things from me, Theodore sees me as a rival, and whose side would the others take? Finally Ebenezer spoke again.

  “That’s no excuse. You cannot endanger yourself by such foolishness. You’re—”

  “I’m different,” Gar’rth gritted. “I know. I know I am.”

  “Gar’rth, what’s wrong?” Kara asked. “It’s clearly something more than just not liking this place.”

  Gar’rth laughed as his eyes watered.

  “You ask me that?” he said. “You? You have kept secrets, Kara, from me.”

  Kara shook her head.

  And now she tries to deny it.

  “A dagger,” he continued. “The one Pia hurt Jerrod with. You took it. You didn’t tell me.”

  Kara’s face fell, and in a suddenly triumphant moment Gar’rth knew he was right.

  “I know why,” he said. “You don’t trust me.” He turned to look at them all, one after the other. “None of you do.”

  He could feel the tears on his cheeks now.

  “Easy lad,” Doric said. “That’s not true. We’ve fought side by side. I trust you the same as I trust Kara and Castimir.”

  Gar’rth ignored his words.

  I will hurt them now if I can.

  “And Theodore, Lady Anne read your letter to Kara. She told me. The letter Kara has in her satchel.”

  Theodore exhaled, and avoided Kara’s stare.

  “You didn’t tell me you had that, Kara,” the knight said after a moment. She did
n’t reply, and her eyes showed anger and confusion.

  Gar’rth lowered his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. As he did so a strange song sounded from the palace, an odd tune which defied his attempt to imagine what person would sing it.

  “I trust you Gar’rth,” Kara said finally. “I really do. There is no way I would have ventured into The Wilderness with you if I did not.”

  “That’s true,” Arisha added. “You know it is Gar’rth. Our lives were in your hands on a dozen occasions, at least. You’ve never let us down.”

  “And you saved my life on the glacier, Gar’rth,” Doric said. “When I was out cold—I’ve never forgotten that.”

  “All things I have done for you,” Gar’rth snapped. “But what have you done for me?”

  “Have I done nothing for you, Gar’rth?” Ebenezer said in a whisper, and at the sound of his voice, Gar’rth’s anger died in sudden humiliation. “Is that what you truly believe?”

  Guilt and shame twisted their ice-cold hands in Gar’rth’s stomach.

  He’s right. I’ve acted like a fool.

  But then the anger returned.

  “No! That’s not...” His words were a growl now. “You are right. But...”

  He couldn’t think straight. The sounds coming from the hall wouldn’t let him.

  “What is that singing?” he demanded.

  Theodore shared a look with Castimir, who shrugged.

  “There is no singing,” the wizard said. “The music in the hall has stopped.”

  But to Gar’rth, it only seemed closer now—as if from somewhere high up above.

  “But I hear it,” he protested. “Singing. A strange song—do none of you hear it? Have you gone deaf?”

  Suddenly Theodore’s eyes widened.

  “Of course,” the knight said urgently. “Castimir, run and get Lord Despaard. Tell him I think the Wyrd is here. We must arm ourselves at once.”

  “I’ll get my sword,” Kara said as she followed Castimir back into the hall, holding her skirt up to avoid tripping over it.

  “Gar’rth, can you follow the song?” Theodore asked.

  He listened carefully, turning his head from side to side.

  “It is strange, Theodore,” he said tentatively. “Not just a song. I can feel it. Yes. Yes, I can follow it.”