Runescape: Return to Canifis Page 7

  “So you seek to usurp the position of my judges, Lady Anne?” King Roald asked. “It is a role that hardly befits a lady.” He gave an amused sigh. “Although perhaps you are thus eminently qualified.”

  The court rippled with polite laughter, and if Castimir expected her to be angered by the King’s riposte, he saw at once it wasn’t so, for she even gave a curtsey to the throne.

  Shameless, he thought with a mixture of amazement and admiration. She’s absolutely shameless. And quite clearly a favourite of the King.

  Theodore however shot her an impatient stare as the King spoke once more.

  “Nevertheless, Kara-Meir gave her word to be here for the Midsummer Festival, and that is today,” he said. “Yet still we wait. Tell me Theodore, have you heard from her? Has she made clear her intentions?”

  Castimir saw Theodore hesitate. He knew the squire had heard nothing from Kara, for it had been Arisha who had forwarded word of her plans. He looked quickly behind him to Doric and Ebenezer, to ask their advice, and as he did so the motion caused him to step forward.

  A sharp intake of breath caught his attention, followed by several more.

  He turned and saw angry gazes from the members of court who were aligned along the opposite wall, facing him.

  He felt the blood drain from his face.

  “Do you approach me without my leave?” the King declared.

  Castimir glanced down.

  His foot was upon the yellow rug.

  “Well?” the King continued. “Speak, wizard.”

  Theodore gave him a resigned glare and stepped back, clearing his way. Casitimir moved forward.

  “My name is Castimir, my King,” he mumbled.

  Speak louder. You are a wizard, he thought furiously. A famous one, at that. Not a mouse in a room of cats. Marshalling his wits, he raised his head and spoke again.

  “I am a wizard of Saradomin who fought at Kara’s side in the unrest in Asgarnia last year,” he said. “She and two others have undertaken an expedition into The Wilderness in pursuit of an evil that remained at large after the siege of Falador.”

  A murmur ran around the chamber.

  “Two others?” someone said.

  “Just the three of them?” another voice added.

  “Into The Wilderness, you say?” the King asked, standing in surprise. “Such recklessness borders on madness. For how long have they been gone?”

  Castimir looked back to Theodore, and when he spoke, though still clear, his voice was lower than before.

  “They have been gone too long, my King. My last communication from them clearly stated that they intended to be here in time for today’s celebrations. Truth be told Sire, their absence makes me fear for them.”

  “A fear I share, Castimir. As do we all,” King Roald said. “Yet I suppose we must trust that Kara-Meir is indeed as skilled as the tales say she is.” He turned to address the crowd. “In the meantime, anyone claiming to be her must be brought to the palace immediately, by force if necessary, and presented to Theodore or his companions for identification. Now I will take my private council.”

  With that he stepped down from the marble dais and exited through a door to his left, followed by Lord Despaard and two others. The first, an ancient man, was hidden under a black fur coat, the other was an elderly nobleman with sharp features that reminded Castimir of a hawk. Only when they had gone did the audience break up, to swarm throughout the narrow chamber in a buzz of voices, a hundred feet crumpling the yellow rug—for now the King had left its power had gone.

  Castimir’s heart beat quicker as Lady Anne approached Theodore.

  “So the King takes guidance from the librarian Papelford and the Lords Despaard and Ruthven,” she said. “Perhaps I should be included amongst such august company? Don’t you think so, Theodore?”

  As she teased the squire, Castimir sensed Theodore’s anger build. He knew his friend as few others did. But the squire mastered his irritation.

  “Good day, Lady Anne,” he said brusquely. “I have work to do, and time is running short.” He turned and gave a nod to his friends as he left the throne room.

  From the look on Lady Anne’s face, if the insult had meant to wound, it had failed.

  “He can be a bore, can’t he?” she said to no one in particular. “But I suppose that’s what makes him such a challenge.” Moving in their direction, she skipped by Castimir, ignoring him entirely as she put her arm through William’s. “Now William de Adlard, I want you to do something for me. When Theodore finishes his morning drill with his young men, I want you to lead him by the galleries. I will be waiting.”

  “And why should I do this thing?” William asked, making no attempt to hide his own irritation.

  “Because if you do as I say, I will put a good word in for you to Lady Caroline.”

  Castimir saw Lady Anne’s spell work its magic.

  “Would you?” the young noble said. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Then, as he realised what he had said, his face wrinkled in a frown. “But what do I tell Theodore?”

  Lady Anne gave that smile again. Castimir wasn’t sure, but he thought a part of it was aimed in his direction. He heard Doric huff behind him.

  “You are both men,” she said blithely. “Men talk about things. I am sure you will think of something. I shall wait at the Salve gallery from midday until one o’clock. Don’t fail me, or Lady Caroline will be so disappointed that she may never talk to you again. I am very good at making things up William, a fact that could work to your advantage. Or not!”

  With that she swept herself from the room.

  “Come along, Castimir,” Ebenezer said with a cunning grin. “I think you need some air, and I know just where we can get it.” The alchemist turned to the noble who had been their guide. “Don’t worry William, I think we can find our own way. And I appreciate that you have greater priorities now.”

  4

  “Welcome my friends, to my home,” Ebenezer said. “Here, I am sorry to inform you, you are likely to meet more of my scientific friends.” The alchemist ignored Castimir’s sour expression and looked at the house he had left many years before.

  Over twenty years before. More time than Castimir has been alive!

  The dark oak door had been nicely varnished, while the white adobe walls—rare in a city built mainly from grey stone—had been recently repainted. To him, the whole townhouse looked fresher than he had ever remembered it being.

  “It’s a big house, Ebenezer” Castimir said. “I’m surprised that you and your science cronies haven’t blown the roof off.”

  Doric glared at him and shook his head slowly. The young wizard looked suddenly uneasy.

  “It is all right, Doric,” the alchemist said in a good-natured tone. “Time has mellowed my pain.” Then he looked back at the structure. “My friends and I used to gather here to discuss the latest developments of architecture and engineering, chemistry and astronomy. Here, Castimir, you would have been the heretic.” He gave the wizard a smile. “But a welcome one nonetheless. Now, let us see who is in.”

  He banged the knocker against the door. Almost immediately it was opened an inch. A woman peered through the gap, her round face and grey hair showing symptoms of her age. But her eyes sparkled with a formidable intelligence and, Ebenezer thought, force of will.

  After all these years, can it be?

  “Sally? Sally is that really you?” he said, peering at her closely through his glasses.

  The woman remained silent for a moment, then suddenly she broke into laughter.

  “Ebenezer! We’ve been waiting for you, Albertus and I! Your house is just as you left it.” The door was pulled open and Sally charged out to embrace him. Then just as suddenly she stepped back.

  “Let me look at you!” Her eyes ran over the yellow waistcoat and blue jacket that he wore under his old travelling cloak. She stared at the golden fob watch that Lord Tremene had given him in Falador, in gratitude for all he had done in the war
. Suddenly, her eyebrows rose quizzically.

  “Surely this isn’t the same cloak you left Varrock with, all those years ago?”

  Ebenezer laughed, feeling a happy tear appear in the corner of his eye.

  “It is, Sally. The very one you hurled over my back as I promised never to return. It’s the one item of clothing that I have never parted with, even though the rest of my clothes are far too expensive, and hand-made by the tailors of Falador.”

  Sally laughed again and looked past him, to Doric and Castimir.

  “When he left Varrock, with his wagon full of rocks and chemicals, he sat out here in the road in the pouring rain, drenched. It was all I could do to force the travelling cloak on him, for it once belonged to my husband.”

  Your husband... Ebenezer thought. I had forgotten Erasmus, and that is certainly no way to remember a friend. Have I really grown so old?

  He felt more tears gather and threaten to spill over the lip of his eye. Yet somehow, he didn’t mind.

  “It’s true,” he said with a tremulous voice. “I would have died of a chill if you hadn’t given it to me all those years ago, Sally.” He coughed and regained his composure. “Indeed, I have often thought that I wouldn’t have even made it to the home of the barbarian tribes, only a few days west of here.”

  A silence fell, in which the two old friends stared at each other.

  How you have changed Sally. You have replaced your beauty with dignity and grace, yet I am more glad for your kind heart.

  But how have I changed in your eyes?

  Finally, Sally spoke.

  “Welcome home, Ebenezer, my dear, dear friend. Welcome home.”

  “It was Eloise’s fifty-first birthday three weeks ago, Ebenezer. Albertus and I went to lay flowers by her grave. Your annuity has kept it in good shape since you left Varrock. She and the children rest well under the tree you planted next to them.”

  The ash tree? Was it ash, or willow? How Eloise hated the children getting the sun on them. That was why I planted it there.

  “Thank you for doing so, Sally. Your sister would be happy if she knew.”

  “If she knew? So your travels have not yet persuaded you of the existence of the gods or an afterlife?” Sally laughed and he saw her look to Doric and Castimir, who sat opposite—somewhat stiffly, he thought, uncomfortably so. Castimir laboured with a biscuit, chewing slowly and deliberately, while Doric lit his pipe.

  “Come Sally, our mawkish talk is making my friends uncomfortable,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood. “Although I feel I must answer your question, for that was a tradition of our debates, was it not? A question asked had to be answered. Yes, I believe in the gods. I think I always did. But I just don’t believe they care for mortals. I have seen too much ill in all areas of the world to think otherwise.”

  “That I can believe,” she answered. “You don’t have to go far these days to prove such a hypothesis, alas.” Her voice trailed off, and Ebenezer saw the looks of his friends grow interested.

  “What is happening in Varrock, Sally?” he asked. “What is this Wyrd that keeps taking people?”

  Sally took a sip of her tea, avoiding his stare.

  Ebenezer was content to wait.

  “I first heard of it some months ago,” she said slowly. “Farmers from the east said that children had been taken from their beds at night, and devoured. Later on it started happening to adults, to farm hands. Strong young men who would fight a wolf, if it threatened.”

  She lowered her cup.

  “But it’s been said no one ever fought this thing,” she continued. “It kills with absolute impunity. Always in the night. Some have seen it, or so they say. It has been described as a giant bat, with fangs that drip blood, or poison. Some people say it is a woman. It has taken indiscriminately—men, women, children, the old and the young. Some vanish never to be seen again, other times remains are found, but still no one has an answer to stop it. Some say it has taken over a hundred souls since it first arrived in our lands.”

  One hundred!

  “What you say matches Theodore’s description to the letter,” Doric growled.

  “Then it is true?” Sally asked.

  Ebenezer nodded. “Theodore confronted her two nights ago. She took a tailor’s child and killed the father. Her talons are poisoned, he believes. She also slew a man last night and left his body on public display, with a message written in his blood. The message read, ‘I am coming.’ Theodore thinks it was her, anyhow.”

  “‘I am coming,’” Sally repeated with a shiver. “It’s not just this that is scaring people, however. Have you heard of the prophecy of the High Priest of Entrana, made a century ago upon his death bed?”

  “Theodore mentioned it in his explanation,” Doric said. “Something about a true king returning.”

  Sally nodded. “That is what makes people afraid. They think it is Drakan, and that soon he will cross the Salve and take Varrock. Others believe it is tied to the legend of Arrav and the Necromancer. This Wyrd seems to me to be a thing from Morytania.”

  “That is what Theodore believes,” Ebenezer agreed.

  Sally shook her head.

  “I haven’t seen Theodore since he first came to Varrock with your request for the steam engine.” Her expression relaxed. “I would have liked to have seen it working.”

  “It worked better than we could have hoped,” the alchemist replied. “And speaking of science, what else do you have to show me? Your recent letters have mentioned phosphorous.”

  “Ah, phosphorous is the least of our efforts. We have had some success in our experiments with the Kinshra’s black powder, but for that you must be patient. Albertus Black will be here shortly, and I know he is excited to show you what new inventions we have come up with. Only when he is here, and you have both shared a drink, will I unlock the door to the wine cellar.”

  “That sounds like a very good idea,” Doric said. “I favour a strong red myself.”

  Sally laughed.

  “Then you are out of luck, master dwarf, for the wine cellar holds no wine. It is where Albertus and I carry out our research.”

  Doric gave a brief curse and rolled his eyes—to the amusement of his friends—when suddenly the front door opened with a loud bang.

  “That is him now,” Sally said in excitement. “Albertus is here!”

  Albertus Black was a white-haired old man only three years older than Ebenezer. His sideburns crept down his face and met at his chin, where they ended in a short, ill-kept beard. Age had withered him to the extent that he was barely taller than Doric, no more than chest height compared to Castimir, and when he shook hands with Ebenezer, the alchemist was startled by how frail his old friend appeared to be.

  “I am glad you have come back, Ebenezer,” Albertus said. “I had hoped to sit with you again for a time, and to talk about the past.”

  “Not you, as well?” Sally chided. “We’ve already been over Eloise and her grave. We’ve even talked about the disappearances and killings that plague Varrock.”

  “Oh, please!” Albertus said with sudden vigour. “She does go on, doesn’t she? Often I thought it would have been best if I had gone with you twenty years ago. It would have saved me years of nagging. No wonder poor Erasmus died so young.” He sat at the table, next to Castimir, and eyed the wizard with a hint of suspicion. “Do you know young man, I am only twenty years old? Yet look what she has done to me!”

  Sally laughed and scolded him for a fool.

  “If your bones weren’t so brittle, you would be out, Albertus Black!”

  “So you don’t believe in this creature then?” Doric asked cautiously. “The one that is doing the killing?”

  “No,” Albertus said without hesitation. “It is the imaginings of peasants drunk on cider or religion. Possibly it is a contamination in the wheat—sometimes that can happen with ergot. And if that is the case, coming at a time when this ridiculous prophecy is talked of and spread about, then is it any surprise th
at a fearful figure grips the imagination of a folk weaned on legends of vampires and werewolves from over the river? No, it is all stuff and nonsense, and would never stand up to the scrutiny of a scientific mind.”

  “You remind me of when I first met Ebenezer,” Castimir said, turning to his friend. “Didn’t we argue about the gods? You believed that Saradomin, Zamorak, and Guthix were all elements of the same god. You are fortunate Theodore didn’t declare you a heretic.”

  “I believed that they were like fingers on the same hand,” Ebenezer explained. “Although I have seen much since that time, only six months ago.”

  Near enough to make me reconsider my opinions, perhaps.

  “I too believe they aren’t as people say they are,” Albertus huffed. “Since time immemorial we have listened to High Priests of Entrana as they lay down laws that govern our lives, setting calendars and dictating marriage ceremonies. And, of course, collecting money from the masses. I have never been to Entrana, but I expect the Holy Isle is a wealthy place indeed!”

  “So what do you believe in?” Castimir asked politely.

  “Science. Theories to test and then to predict. Let me show you.” The old man struggled to his feet and approached the cupboard that stood against the far wall. From inside he took a copper globe with a pump protruding from the bottom. Gently, he laid it on the table, wheezing from the effort.

  “Now, master dwarf or wizard, would one of you be so kind as to use the pump?”

  Castimir stood and did as the old man asked. He did so until he had gone red in the face and sweat dripped from his brow.

  “That is quite enough. Now, you have just pumped out the air that was inside this hollow globe, creating a vacuum. I believe that not even two horses could pull the two halves of this globe apart.” He peered at them, amusement in his eyes. “Try it.”

  Ebenezer watched as Doric and Castimir did so. Once, when Doric spied a small plug, Albertus interrupted. “Not yet, master dwarf. Try using strength alone.”