Runescape: Return to Canifis Read online

So this is the one behind it all. This is the vampire who sent Jerrod after me, the one who has wanted me for so long.

  Why?

  Try as he might, Gar’rth could not see much in this blackness. Yet he sensed the figure’s attention as it shifted from the water to him.

  “Come forward,” a voice commanded.

  It is the same voice as woke me from my sleep. I couldn’t resist it then.

  Nor could he resist it now. He stepped forward to the pool’s edge, a stone lip that rose a short distance from the flagstones.

  “Closer, Gar’rth. Come closer.”

  He dared not speak, nor refuse. He wanted only to obey. Quickly, he walked around the pool’s edge. And as he neared the black figure in the midst of the shadows, he did not feel afraid. Instead he felt... happiness? Elation?

  I am elated. This man knows so much about me.

  “I have all the answers you seek, and more—infinitely more,” the voice said. “I can teach so very, very much. Far more than anything Kara-Meir or those human friends of yours.

  “I can tell you, for example, that your embassy has wasted its time. The children you seek are not in Morytania. They never have been. And even now the Wyrd is dead. Her head sits on a spike upon the walls of Varrock’s palace.

  “You see, even the embassy itself was only a feint to achieve my purpose. The purpose of bringing you to me.”

  “What?” Gar’rth said, finding his voice. “I don’t understand. You sent the Wyrd to lure me back?”

  The figure in the black robes turned. Gar’rth was close enough now to see his face. He looked to be a man in his late thirties, his black hair swept back, lined with grey and white at the edges. Behind the dark eyes Gar’rth saw a deeper shade, a bright red that could not be concealed, that told him the true nature of the thing before him.

  Yet still he wasn’t afraid.

  “No, the Wyrd had tasks of her own to complete. She came close, but your own intervention on the night of the dance and the betrayal of your uncle—at Vanescula’s command—led to her death before her work was done. Therefore I must send another.”

  Jerrod betrayed him?

  The figure turned back to the pool.

  “Tell me, Gar’rth, what do you see here?”

  He looked into the still waters.

  “Nothing. Nothing but the barest ripple.”

  “Then perhaps you have no empathy for magic.” The man sneered slightly, and exhaled. “Still, that can be rectified in time, and time is what we have in plenty. Let us try again. Grasp my hand, and think. Think of King Roald, perhaps.”

  Gar’rth held his hand out slowly. Quickly the man took it. Coldness crept up his wrist and into his arm, and yet the grip was so strong that he couldn’t have broken it if he had tried.

  “Look, Gar’rth. Think of King Roald, and look.”

  The dark colour of the water faded and the ripples took form. Quickly, a half recognisable image of the King appeared. Gar’rth gasped, and the image vanished.

  He felt the grip tighten on his hand.

  “In time I will teach you to do this properly. I have spent many, many lifetimes watching the lives of others, from their births to their deaths. It has showed me just how weak humans are, just how malleable they can be. King Roald, for instance, lusts as much as the basest born peasant. I have seen it—how he deSires the woman Ellamaria. Such weakness.”

  “Why are you revealing this to me?”

  “Because it will make your choice easier, Gar’rth. It is a mere demonstration of the power I will grant you. Think of Kara now, for that emotion should be powerful in you.”

  Instantly the waters changed. A room appeared. Alone on a settee lay Kara, asleep, breathing gently. Behind her, Gar’rth saw Theodore and Castimir in a similar state, and nearby he was relieved to see the slumbering forms of Albertus Black and Gideon Gleeman.

  “If you want her, then I will give her to you,” the man said, his voice compelling, seductive. “Now. Here, in this place, you can possess her more fully than any man ever possessed a woman across the river.”

  “Her love is worthless if it is forced from her,” Gar’rth responded, suddenly angry.

  The man laughed and let go of Gar’rth’s hand. The image faded immediately.

  “You must truly have feelings for her, to act so nobly. But her fate, and that of your friends, rests entirely in your hands.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Their belongings are all here. They are yours, for your friends won’t be able to take them. Their horses from Canifis, their possessions, and they themselves will be yours if you want them to be.” He peered intently. “Tell me truthfully, Gar’rth, have you never thought of taking Theodore’s life, in front of Kara’s eyes? To show her how strong you really are? Here, you could do that.”

  You know I have!

  “He is my friend,” Gar’rth replied, but somehow the words seemed feeble.

  “Your friend?” the dark man said. “He hates what you are, Gar’rth. You know it. He fears you, as well, as they all do. Even Kara. If it were otherwise, would she have taken the wolfbane dagger without telling you?”

  He knows everything.

  “You don’t answer me because you have thought so before. Still, they are your friends, and I will respect that. The choice you have is a brutally simple one. If you submit to me, I will tell you of your history, and of your future, too. Your friends may go freely across the river and return home.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “They will live in torment, forever, as has no other since the time of the God Wars. Believe me when I tell you that death will be but a dream to them. And in the end, you will submit to me, for there will be no alternative.”

  What choice is that?

  “King Roald offered you a similar choice, did he not, before you swore to serve him?” He looked deeply into Gar’rth’s eyes. “You should never have left Morytania, Gar’rth. This is your place. This is your home.”

  “And my friends will be allowed to leave Morytania, unmolested?”

  The man nodded.

  “I will not try to stop them. I cannot make promises on behalf of others, of course, but they should be able to accomplish it. Already Vanstrom and the rebel Karnac near the Barrows. They will be here within a day. Time enough for you to make your choice. I shall even wake them before you go, so you can part from them cordially. And if you wish to help them further, then you may give each one a pouch filled with the most precious gems. None of them will want ever again.

  “Tell me, Gar’rth, has a more reasonable offer ever been made?”

  “You are offering no choice at all.”

  “That is true,” the man admitted without hesitation. “But the lives of your friends are in your hands. Their welfare is entirely dependent upon you.”

  “Then you know I will accept it. You know I have to.”

  The man smiled.

  “Very good, Gar’rth. Very good. You made the wise choice. Your friends will live, and likely prosper, and though you might never be with them again, you will be able to watch them whenever you want. Believe me, there are worse decisions people must make in this world.”

  Gar’rth gritted his teeth, and clenched his hands.

  “I said I accept, and I will,” he hissed. “But I want to write a letter, for Kara to open when she crosses the river. I could not stand to hear her voice, now that my mind is made up. And to Ebenezer, as well, for I owe him much.”

  “Ah, the alchemist,” the dark man said. “You will be glad to know he is now back on his feet. I have seen him in the company of others in my pool. But now that you have accepted, I will tell you the truth of your life, and of why you are so important.

  “Then you may write your letters, and if you want you may dictate them to Georgi, for I know how limited your skill is in their language. You can tell your friends whatever you wish them to know.”

  32

  “Theodore? Can you hear me, Theodore?”
r />   The knight opened his heavy eyelids. He breathed deeply, and there was no trace of smoke in his lungs, no prickly fire that wanted to make him cough and wheeze. Still, he could smell it on his clothes, and on the clothes of Castimir, who lay next to him, asleep.

  Or is it something worse than sleep?

  He prodded the wizard with his hand. Castimir sighed, mumbled incoherently, and remained still.

  “He is safe and unharmed, Theodore.” It was Gar’rth’s voice. “All our friends are.”

  He could see the werewolf standing in the shadows of the darkened room with black walls and black furnishings. About him, on several large settees, lay the rest of the embassy. To his surprise, this included Albertus Black and Gideon Gleeman. The scientist lay motionless on a litter, as if someone had prepared him for a journey. Only Lord Despaard, Doric, and Arisha were absent.

  “Good,” he breathed out, and his breath fogged the air. It was cold here. “How long have I slept for?”

  “Nearly two days,” Gar’rth replied. “I want to talk to you, Theodore, before I wake the others.” Gar’rth strode forward and Theodore felt his brow crease in surprise. He was no longer dressed in his hood, cloak, and loose-fitting garments. Now he was attired in black trousers, with a black doublet covered by a jerkin inlaid with mysterious silver symbols. A black cloak hung from a metal brooch that lay across his throat. He had washed and shaved, and now he stood as fine as any prince the knight had seen.

  Gar’rth stepped over to Kara’s side. She lay alone on a settee. The werewolf removed his right glove and gently clasped her cheek in his hand, caressing her skin lightly.

  Is that what you choose to talk of now, Gar’rth? Or have you changed more than your dress?

  Have you joined with Him, with Zamorak?

  “She is very beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Theodore made no answer. Instead, he stood stiffly.

  “I know you think so. We both do. We both love her. But only one of us can have her.”

  So this is it, then. The truth of it.

  Slowly, he reached for his sword and drew it out an inch.

  The werewolf smiled, his white teeth shining in the gloom.

  “I know what you think of me. You have always thought so. You fear me. The others do, too. I had the same dream you had that night at Paterdomus. It frightened me, as well.” He sighed and put the glove back on. “But I have made my choice now, Theodore, and there is nothing you can do about it, I am afraid.”

  “What choice?” Theodore asked warily.

  “You can have her.”

  What?

  The words stopped Theodore dead.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “As far as she is mine to give, she is yours—and here, in this place, I could possess her absolutely. Whether she loves you or not, I do not know. But I have one request.

  “When you return to Misthalin, you will do two things for me. You will give her a letter, but not before you are across the river. Secondly, take care of her, Theodore. If you do not marry her yourself then make sure she finds a good man, a dull one who is happy with his lot. In time she will put aside her sword and cease her wanderings. Make sure she has everything she can possibly need. I have eased the way. On your belt is a pouch. It holds jewels that are larger than any you will find in Varrock. You are a very rich man now. Use that power wisely.”

  Gar’rth turned to a table nearby. On its surface Theodore saw two sealed envelopes.

  “This is the one for Kara,” Gar’rth said. “This one you will deliver to Ebenezer in Varrock. You will be relieved to know that he is much improved since when we left him, although I doubt very much I will see him again.”

  “How do you know that, Gar’rth?” the knight asked. “And what do you mean?”

  He has changed. In only two days since we fought side by side in Canifis, his whole being is different.

  “I have met my master, Theodore. The man who wanted me back. Papelford was right. I haven’t been harmed at all, and already I have learned so much.”

  Gar’rth handed him the envelopes, sealed tight.

  “Is it Lord Drakan?”

  “No. It is another. He calls himself the Black Prince, but that is no longer important.”

  “No longer important? What about our mission? What about the Wyrd?”

  Gar’rth laughed.

  “The mission was a lie from the start, Theodore. Of course, we didn’t know it then. The Wyrd herself is no longer a problem for Misthalin, I believe. And as for the missing victims, they have never been in Morytania at all. King Roald must seek elsewhere for them, though I do not know where.

  “But like I said,” he continued, “I will likely never see Ebenezer again. For I cannot come with you, Theodore. This is my goodbye. It is a trade. I have to remain here, voluntarily, for you to go free. The alternative would be your deaths.”

  Theodore gritted his teeth. He had suspected something like this since he had seen Gar’rth’s new attire, but he had hoped otherwise.

  “Our escape will be desperate,” he said. “And unlikely.”

  “You have my word that you will not be attacked, Theodore. Although I would advise you to go as quickly as you can.”

  Your word, Gar’rth? How is Morytania possibly bound by that?

  “I will never see her smile or laugh or cry again,” Gar’rth murmured as he leaned down to Kara’s face. Gently, as if afraid to wake her, he kissed her forehead. Then he turned. “I shall wake the others now. You will have to carry Albertus, for his recovery is doubtful. Doric and Arisha are nearby with Lord Despaard. They have a boat which will carry you west.” He stroked Kara’s hair. “But I shall not wake her. I don’t think I could stand to hear her voice now that my decision is made.”

  “Wait, Gar’rth, before you go,” Theodore sheathed his sword and approached the werewolf. He thrust his hand out. “I have always feared what you are, Gar’rth. That is no lie.” His voice broke and his vision blurred. “But the man you were when you fought at my side, when you went with Kara into The Wilderness—there are few better. I am sorry now of my jealousy of you.”

  Gar’rth nodded and took Theodore’s hand in his.

  “I have learned much from our time together, Theodore. Make sure you tell Ebenezer that. Together, you showed me what friendship was. I never had that before, and I will never forget that. Never.”

  They embraced, Gar’rth’s strength bruising Theodore’s flesh.

  “Just look after her, Theodore. Promise me you will?”

  “I will, Gar’rth. I will.”

  Castimir awoke with the smell of smoke in his nostrils. He coughed reflexively, and as he did so he sat up.

  What happened?

  Opposite him, Gideon Gleeman was looking equally confused, and behind him, on a black settle lay Kara, unmoving. At the jester’s side, lying on a litter, Albertus Black moaned.

  “We haven’t long,” Gar’rth said. “You must go. Now.”

  Go where? Where are we? And why is it “you” and not “we”?

  “Castimir, can you help Gideon carry Albertus?” Theodore said. “I’ll take Kara.”

  The wizard rushed to help Gideon as Theodore hefted Kara over his shoulder with a grunt. Only Gar’rth remained unmoving.

  He’s not coming. He means to send us away and remain.

  “Gar’rth, you can’t stay here,” he said. “They will force you to give yourself to Zamorak if you do... won’t they?”

  “I do not know, Castimir. They have not done so yet, but I have made the choice that matters, perhaps the last free choice I ever will make. You are to go free, back to Misthalin, but the price of your freedom is that I stay behind. That is why I haven’t woken Kara. She would not understand that there are some forces it is impossible to fight.”

  “But... but...” He didn’t know what to say. Gar’rth’s position was an impossible one.

  “I have already spoken to Theodore about it, Castimir. He will tell all on your way back.” Gar
’rth clasped Castimir in a great hug and the wizard saw his friend’s eyes water. “This is the only way, Castimir. The only way.

  “And you should know that it is not just your lives for which I have made this exchange. Here, I can help, really help. On your way you will see how the wretches of the ghettoes live, of their misery and fear. If I can do anything at all to help them, then it will be worth doing. Go now, but go with the knowledge that we still have a chance to make a better world for some. He will guide you.”

  Castimir turned to where Gar’rth gestured. Through an open set of double doors stood a thin elderly man with white hair and a long gaunt face. His thick sideburns ran to his chin, and when he opened his mouth the wizard noted his teeth were pointed.

  He is one of them, a werewolf, I think. Or is he a vampire?

  “Georgi will guide you. He is a werewolf, and he has been appointed to be my valet. Follow him, and you cannot go wrong.”

  Gar’rth shook the jester’s hand, and then turned to face them all.

  “I have given you each a gift, also. Theodore is now a rich man, as are you all now. Castimir, I have included Ebenezer’s spyglass in your belt pouch. I know he would like it back. The contents of Albertus’s saddlebags are in my possession, however—they are too heavy for you to carry back.”

  Gar’rth stepped toward the door and gestured.

  “Georgi, lead them to the Barrows beyond the city’s walls. Vanstrom and Doric will be there to meet you, if you hurry.” He turned to Castimir and gave a knowing smile. “And Arisha waits with them. So don’t delay!”

  “Come, we cannot be upon the Barrows when it gets dark,” Georgi muttered as he turned in the doorway and led them on. “Not even us. Come on!”

  Castimir turned back one last time as they rounded a corner in the corridor. He stared through the double doors to see Gar’rth, standing alone, looking after them. Then the shadows closed in upon him, hiding him from view, and the doors were slammed shut by some unseen force.

  May the gods watch over you, my friend.

  “She is waking. Be careful, Theodore, mind her head on the stone.”

  Kara heard Castimir’s voice as Theodore grunted. She felt a cold wind blow on her face, and then hard stone under her feet and against her back.