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  “But what about you then?” he asked quietly. “Who have you lost to this creature?”

  “My own kin have suffered at the Wyrd’s hands. My aunt and uncle vanished one night, their children as well. I was working at the Blue Moon Inn when it happened. Like others, they were taken on the King’s command. I begged the authorities to help at first, and I was nearly imprisoned for my troubles. All that was left for me to do was to try and find them myself.”

  She choked again.

  “I don’t even know if they’re alive.”

  Theodore gritted his teeth.

  “Please, Sir Theodore, what will happen to me? Will Lord Despaard burn me for a witch? Will I be beheaded for treason? How will they make me disappear?”

  “You took a tremendous risk, Ellamaria,” he said. “Truly, I don’t know. But I will ask the King to act with mercy.”

  They spoke no more that night, and Theodore lay awake for a long time, considering her words. And finally when he did sleep, it was uneasy and unsatifying, despite his physical exhaustion.

  13

  Kara fumed silently as she studied the multitude of faces assembled in the round chamber. Her mind was in turmoil.

  Theodore had relayed his account of Simon in the prison, and of his certainty relating to Gar’rth’s fate.

  They can’t really mean to execute Gar’rth, she told herself. There is no justice in that!

  Her mind also wrestled with the disappearance of Pia and Jack—still there was no sign of them. Could she have done something differently—something that would have caused them to stay?

  But there is nothing I can do for them now. The city guards have orders to look for them, and I am faced with more pressing matters. She forced the loss of her sword from her mind with difficulty, aware that she would very likely never see it again.

  She sat on the front bench, between Theodore and Doric—a place reserved for honoured guests of the King, or so she had been told. From there she faced the King’s vacant throne, elevated upon a dais which stood—in turn—upon a stage where the monarchy’s nobility sat. Above her, on all sides save behind the King, numerous balconies rose in three tiers, all packed with the curious faces of every class of citizen in Varrock. The parliament was, Theodore had explained to her, a means of hearing the city’s concerns, of showing them that something was being done.

  Across the aisle sat the influential traders and craftsmen of Varrock. Kara saw Albertus seated at their front. She had met him only briefly—that morning—as he had arrived with Sally to see Ebenezer. The man’s eyes were dark with worry.

  Her attention returned to the stage. Among the noble peers Kara recognised Lord Despaard and a few half-remembered persons from the dance the evening before. Lord Ruthven, with his aquiline features and constantly moving eyes, was there, and behind him sat the jester, Gideon Gleeman, along with the King’s religious advisor, the man with a strange name that Kara couldn’t immediately recollect. His fanaticism inspired an instant revulsion in her.

  “That’s Aeonisig Raispher,” Theodore told Castimir, somehow reading Kara’s thoughts. “He’s a Saradominist who advises the King. And that old man nearby in the black coat is Papelford, the King’s archivist. Next to him is his apprentice, Reldo.”

  “Where is Lord William?” Doric growled, keeping his voice low. “I don’t see him there.”

  “Lord William isn’t deemed important enough to sit upon the stage today,” William said wryly as he took his seat behind them. “I am not a part of this.” The young man sat behind Kara, smiling slightly too much, his fingers caressing a leaping silver fox upon its chain.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. Kara noted how his eyes turned upwards, to look to the ladies gallery where the wives and daughters of the nobility sat to watch the proceedings. She saw Lady Anne sitting at the front of the balcony, and as she looked, the young woman’s eyes rested coldly upon her before moving to Theodore. Very pointedly, Kara paid Anne no heed, and instead found herself staring at Lady Caroline, who sat a short distance from her friend.

  Enjoy the show, Anne. Let’s hope King Roald doesn’t rush things too much. I wouldn’t want your uncertainty to be so quickly ended.

  Suddenly Lady Caroline waved, and Kara heard Theodore chuckle.

  “I think that wave was meant for you, William.”

  “I can but hope, Theodore,” the noble replied. “The dance last night was an outstanding success, I think.”

  At least someone feels that way, Kara thought bleakly. Castimir muttered something uncharitable. He had been in a foul mood all morning, ever since he had been forced to leave Ebenezer’s bedside to attend the parliament. Arisha had remained by the alchemist’s side, in the company of Father Lawrence and a shocked Sally.

  Ignoring the wizard’s mumblings, Theodore spoke.

  “Where were you last night, William?” he asked. “You missed a great deal.”

  “So I have heard tell. Gossip around the palace says that you interrupted the Wyrd from kidnapping a child, and nearly captured her. Word has it that Gar’rth was injured.” He lowered his eyes and the smile faded. “I have, of course, heard about Ebenezer, as well. I am very sorry to hear of his injuries.” Then he glanced around. “Where is Gar’rth, anyhow, and Arisha?”

  Don’t you know Lord William? Don’t you know that he awaits the King’s decision as to whether he lives or dies?

  “Arisha is with them,” Kara said quickly. “She wished to remain behind to tend their wounds.”

  A horn blew as a door near the stage was opened. The parliament stood as King Roald entered. He was followed by the wizard Aubury and escorted by Captain Rovin, whose sword hand was wrapped in a white bandage. She saw him frown in their direction.

  “Next time I should heat his helm,” Castimir muttered angrily, eliciting a surprised glance from William. “Then he would have a real reason to scowl so.”

  “His ears have stopped bleeding at least,” Doric observed.

  The King sat, and Aeonisig Raispher and Papelford shared a glance, then exchanged a nod before the religious advisor finally pointed to his apprentice.

  Next to the ancient archivist, a nervous Reldo stood.

  “Lords, Ladies, citizens of Varrock,” he began, his voice timid, “I have been asked by representatives of the monarchy to relay the following information to you in order to reveal what is being done about the terror that holds our city in its grip. This is what His Majesty promised you yesterday, and it is his intention to deliver on that promise.” The young man’s eyes fell to the paper in his hand as he began to read.

  “For at least the last six months, near a hundred people have been reported as missing or have been found slain. The great majority of these attacks have been out to the east, among the rural communities not far from the River Salve. Many have been found mutilated and partially devoured.” That brought a gasp from the galleries. “Others have not been found at all. In many cases writing has been left at the scene, although in some instances, wherein the body was found by illiterate village folk, the existence of these messages cannot be confirmed.”

  Reldo coughed before continuing. Kara took the opportunity to study the faces of the citizens standing in the balconies above her.

  They are still willing to listen, to give their King a chance, she observed. Let us hope there is no more deception. If there is even the hint of such then the crowd will riot, and this time there are no walls to protect us.

  “More recently, the attacks have commenced in Varrock itself. It was at this point it was decided that something needed to be done to prevent a panic. Therefore, Lord Despaard acted with the best interests of the realm at heart. The dead were removed and interred, and the witnesses detained to ensure their silence.” There was an angry grumbling at that. “The mark of the plague was placed upon the door to each house to explain why the family had been removed from the city.

  “We confess to you now, upon instructions from His Majesty, that there has been no plague
in Varrock this year. The people have no cause to fear it at this time.”

  Kara watched as many heads nodded in understanding. The grumbling subsided, and a faint ripple of agreement sounded from above.

  They have accepted it then. But where do we go from here?

  Reldo continued.

  “We do not know why this Wyrd is terrorizing the people. There seems to be no pattern to her actions that we can discern, although attempts are still being made to do so. As of this day, six children are missing, along with several adults. There may very well be others whose disappearance has not been reported to us. However, despite all this, there is hope.” He paused to add emphasis to the words. “Last night, for the very first time, the authorities came close to capturing this creature as she sought to take another child.”

  A gasp of interest echoed around the chamber, and someone shouted a blessing on the King.

  Reldo waited for the commotion to quiet before he carried on.

  “Last night there were deaths, and injuries, but the child was saved. And the Wyrd itself was injured. Perhaps significantly.”

  Smiles and expressions of relief appeared on the listeners’ faces. Some clapped and whooped.

  They need a victory, these people. They have lived in fear and ignorance under the shadow of an inhuman terror, not knowing its true nature, and to hear she’s been hurt can’t fail to lift their spirits.

  “However, the creature is still at large, and she is still dangerous. We must not forget that. Only this morning another body was found, of a young girl known to the city guard as Catspurse, her heart...” He stopped and composed himself. “Her heart and organs missing, her body savaged as if by a wild beast.”

  Silence fell as Reldo returned once more to the paper he had been given to read.

  “We have no doubt as to the Wyrd’s origins—she is indeed from Morytania.” Reldo paused and looked quizzically at Papelford. The old man frowned and waved with his hand. The apprentice hesitated briefly before continuing.

  “It is the belief of... it is the belief of the monarchy that the presence of the Wyrd has something to do with the High Priest’s prophecy.”

  I don’t think you believe that Reldo.

  Reldo sighed as Papelford muttered angrily to him, the words lost in the murmurs of surprise that ran around the galleries. Aeonisig Raispher stood suddenly and shouted in order to silence the mutterings of the onlookers.

  “We can have no doubt that it is so!” he proclaimed. Reldo frowned and buried his face in the paper, deliberately avoiding the advisor’s gaze. “The words of the High Priest of Entrana, uttered on his death bed a century ago, cannot be refuted. They are fact.

  “Absolute fact.” He peered angrily around the room, as if daring anyone to contradict him. Kara saw Reldo shake his head as the crowd muttered uncertainly now.

  “It seems as if we have a sceptic,” Doric said.

  “Reldo is always sceptical,” William said from behind them. “He and I have debated the prophecy before. He doesn’t believe it was foretold by the High Priest of Entrana. He says the only records of it appeared in Varrock’s own library a century ago.” William lowered his voice. “He actually thinks it was written at the behest of the King of that time, to rally his people and to provide a united front against a shared enemy. In hindsight, it was a very foolish thing to do, as we now know due to the panic it’s causing.”

  Theodore shook his head.

  “Then how do you explain the Wyrd, William, appearing now to leave these messages all over Varrock?”

  Before he could reply Albertus Black staggered to his feet and raised his right hand. As he did so, the crowd fell silent again.

  “I must thank the monarchy for being so forthright with its information,” he said, his voice strong and clear. “I am certain it has eased many troubled minds present in this room. But as a representative of the people, I have some questions that have remained unanswered. To begin, will those who have been detained now be released? And can the monarchy confirm that the victims of this creature have received a proper burial?”

  Chatter erupted in the balconies. Black sat back down, and Reldo looked suddenly uncomfortable as he gazed toward Lord Despaard, who in turn looked to King Roald.

  The King nodded once and Despaard stood.

  “They shall be released,” he announced. “But in answer to your second point...” He looked back to the King who pursed his lips and nodded again. “The bodies will be returned as soon as possible.” A clamour arose that indicated the audience’s dissatisfaction with his words.

  That’s done it, Kara knew. People can tolerate many grievances, but if you dishonour the dead, Lord Despaard...

  Albertus Black stood again in an attempt to calm the growing clamour. People booed and shouted angrily. Captain Rovin, standing next to the throne, half-drew his sword with his bandaged hand.

  “Quiet! Please... we must have silence!” Albertus’ words were barely audible to Kara as the angry display continued.

  “You don’t represent us,” someone shouted down at him. The man’s words were cheered as Albertus Black’s expression showed the pain they caused him. At his side, the wealthy traders and craftsmen peered in concern at the masses gathered above them.

  Suddenly Kara sensed movement at her side. Theodore stood up and raised his hands. When the crowd ignored him, he walked from the bench and stood in front of the stage, his hands open.

  What are you doing, Theodore? This is not our business.

  “Quiet,” he shouted, then he repeated it louder as the crowd convulsed. “Quiet!”

  “You cannot claim to represent us either, knight,” someone else called down as the shouting subsided.

  “You are right,” Theodore called back. “I cannot. And I do not. But I think I know who you might be satisfied with.” The knight looked to Albertus Black and his well-dressed cohort. “You have berated those who traditionally represent you, and yet someone must. Is that not the way the King’s parliament works? An appointed representative of the people must be selected to air their concerns to the crown?”

  Kara saw the sweat bead on his brow.

  “Who do you suggest, Sir Theodore?” Aeonisig Raispher asked. “Who has the backing of the people, if these distinguished gentlemen no longer have it?”

  Theodore looked briefly to the King. Kara found the monarch’s face unreadable.

  “I suggest that the woman Ellamaria be brought here,” Theodore said.

  And finally an expression crossed the King’s face—one of surprise.

  “She has risked a considerable amount,” Theodore continued. “By her actions—and hers alone—do we convene here today.” In the stunned silence Theodore turned to address the balconies. “She is a representative free of any political goals. Her actions on your behalf have earned her a prison cell.”

  After a moment, an answer came.

  “She is still not one of us!” someone cried. “She hasn’t suffered like us!”

  Suddenly King Roald stood. His face was taut, his eyes fierce.

  “Suffered like you?” he spat out in a cold rage. “Suffered? I have suffered at the hands of this creature. I have lost something that was as dear to me as any you could have lost.” He stepped forward from his throne as Lord Despaard moved to intercept him.

  “My lord you must not—”

  “It must be said, Despaard,” the ruler said, brushing aside the objection. “My people doubt me.” He turned again to face the onlookers. “I am their King! They will doubt no more.” He stepped to the very front of the stage and glared angrily at the balconies above him.

  “Lady Elizabeth never died from falling from her horse, as was told to the kingdom at the time. She was murdered by the Wyrd. She was its first victim.”

  His words shocked the chamber into silence.

  Behind her, Kara heard William breathe out.

  “By the gods,” he whispered. “Lady Elizabeth, the King’s wife-to-be, murdered.”


  The dress I wore, Kara suddenly realised. What must the King have thought?

  King Roald continued. “The truth of her death is as follows: we were riding from a hunting lodge on the Eastern Chase. Lady Elizabeth got ahead of me, and when I caught up to her I found the Wyrd standing over her body, her face already black in death. I do not know why the monster didn’t try to slay me before she vanished, but a guard in my service touched her wounds first, and he too was dead within a moment. So, people of Varrock, when you think that you and you alone are the victims of this creature, know that you are not. The woman I loved was taken from me.”

  The King looked to Captain Rovin and then across to Theodore, still standing below the stage.

  “Bring Ellamaria from the dungeon,” he ordered coldly. “I accept Sir Theodore’s recommendation. I shall return when she is here.”

  With that King Roald left the chamber through the door he had entered, followed by Despaard and Rovin. Theodore returned to his seat.

  For a long time, no one made a sound.

  Ellamaria entered the chamber in the company of two guards. As she did so the crowd gave a sudden cheer, and Kara saw her eyes widen. Theodore made to intercept her, and they spoke quietly.

  “She looks like her, you know,” William remarked to no one in particular.

  “Who?” Kara asked him.

  “Ellamaria,” he said. “She resembles Lady Elizabeth.”

  Theodore rejoined them as the young woman was led across the aisle to Albertus and the leading citizens of Varrok.

  “What did you tell her, Theodore?” Kara said. If Anne is as inquisitive as I, then no doubt she will feel the knives turning in her stomach now.

  She looked to where Anne was seated, and gave her best urchin smile. Anne raised her eyebrow and looked away.

  “She occupied the cell across from where Gar’rth was imprisoned, and told me her story last night,” Theodore explained. “She isn’t a bad woman at all, rather she has suffered greatly. She lost her family to the Wyrd, and has asked for my help in gaining the King’s pardon. I think this should help.” For just a moment he looked satisfied with himself. “The guards who brought her here have told her all that’s happened, so it’s up to her now.”