RuneScape: Return to Canifis (27 page)

BOOK: RuneScape: Return to Canifis
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“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.”

King Roald entered again to the sound of a horn, and at once everyone stood. Only when he was seated on the throne did the parliament follow suit.

All save one, for Ellamaria had been left without space on the bench.

Struggling to his feet, Albertus Black offered her his place.

“Keep your chair, sir,” she said, “for you look as if you have more need of it than I.”

William guffawed in laughter. The merriment was shared by the onlookers, and even King Roald smiled slightly. Albertus, looking suddenly lost, sat back down in a daze.

Despaard moved forward and spoke.

“We all know what has been happening,” he said grimly. “The question we must answer now is what are we going to do about it. The King will offer a generous reward to anyone who can lead us to the Wyrd, more to the person who can track down and kill the creature, and even more if she can be taken alive.

“But besides that, what more can we do?”

Albertus Black shuffled to his feet once more.

“Indeed, there is the question of the Wyrd’s purpose. Why is she here? What does she seek to accomplish with her reign of terror? I know the thoughts of the prophecy are worrying to many. I myself don’t have such certainty in it...”

Kara saw Reldo nod in approval.

“...but I feel certain that we must somehow divine her role. She is not just a creature that has escaped the bounds of the holy river, and now feasts on our people. The words she has left about this prophecy
tell us that she is more. The question is simply, in what way?”

Papelford, the King’s ancient archivist, forced himself to his feet. His breath was laboured, and he leaned on a thin ash stick that he held at his waist. When he spoke, Kara had to concentrate to hear, for his voice was feeble and wavering.

“She is Lord Drakan’s servant,” he said with conviction. “She is sent to prepare for his coming. The prophecy is nigh, and she must be located if we are to have any hope of preventing it.”

Reldo shook his head, and as Papelford sat down the young man leapt up.

“I must...
respectfully
disagree with my master,” he said, looking as if he expected retaliation. “All the references to this prophecy— without exception—are written by men who lived a hundred years ago here in Varrock, not Entrana. There is no evidence at all that the High Priest ever spoke those words.”

Papelford dropped his head and put his hand over his eyes.

“And yet the Wyrd still kills, and leaves hints of the coming,” Lord Despaard protested. “How do you explain that? You cannot separate the two.”

Reldo pursed his lips and twisted his head to one side. After several seconds of silent thought he shook it and sat back down, his face bitter.

“What about an invasion?” Gideon Gleeman piped up from behind Raispher. “Why don’t we make the first move?” His words were greeted with claps and cheers. King Roald shook his head as Raispher stood and replied.

“That is impossible,” he snapped angrily. “We cannot invade them—nor they us. So say the Edicts of Guthix, laid down under Saradomin’s guidance when the river was blessed a millennia ago.”

“That’s Raispher for you,” William commented drily. “Most people would say that Guthix is the most powerful god, but not
him. Saradomin conquers all, apparently.”

Kara saw Theodore frown.

He’s right though, Theodore
, she thought.
This Raispher is a fanatic—even more so than you and the knights.
But she didn’t say it aloud.

“Yet if we cannot invade, can’t we at least send someone into Morytania to determine the truth?” Ellamaria advanced toward the stage as she spoke, arms held wide, looking to the balconies above.

She is a performer
, Kara observed,
and a good one. She knows how to address the crowd.
Ellamaria let the silence last a moment more before continuing.

“Can we not at least send an embassy of sorts across the river?”

Lord Despaard looked quickly to Lord Ruthven, and then to the King. Suddenly Papelford stood.

“It is possible to do so,” the archivist said. “I have read of it in the histories of our realm. There is such a thing as the blood mark, and it is said that whoever bears this mark shall pass unmolested through Lord Drakan’s realm. But we would need to verify this somehow. Never in living memory has there been an attempt to send an emissary from Varrock.”

Ellamaria glowered in frustration as she spoke again.

“But surely there is someone who has been to Morytania? Is there no one who can help us now?”

Kara stood.

She hadn’t intended to, but suddenly she found herself on her feet. All eyes turned to her, and she felt King Roald’s gaze upon her as she marshalled her thoughts.

They will only execute him otherwise.

“There is one man, my King, who can help us here,” she said. “Only one who has unique experience of Morytania and who would be willing to help us. He is loyal, Sire. I trust him implicitly.
So, too, can Varrock.” Her eyes swept across the faces in front of her. “You know of whom I speak—he will help. He is the only one who can.”

She sat back down as the parliament digested her words.

“You may have condemned him, Kara,” Theodore hissed angrily. “He ran
away
from there. What if he has no wish to return, even if King Roald decides to send an embassy across the river?”

“At least in this way he is useful to Varrock, Theodore,” she argued. “The King won’t be so hasty to execute him now. It gives him a chance.”

Kara’s speech had lit a fuse of questioning. The onlookers cried from the balconies, demanding the identity of the mysterious individual and even William, sitting behind them, couldn’t contain his curiosity. But his questions were lost in the din.

“We can have faith in Kara-Meir,” Ellamaria shouted, but to no avail. It was only when the King stood that silence once again fell over the chamber.

“Kara-Meir’s words have persuaded me,” he said. “There is truth in what she has said, and a good sense that cannot be denied. I will meet with her friend in private, along with my most trusted councillors.

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