“As I have heard of you all, save this young woman.” Her blue eyes focused on Arisha, who spoke without hesitation.
“My name is Arisha,” she said. “I am a priestess of the tribes to the west of here, across the River Lum.” She bowed gracefully, and Castimir beamed.
“A barbarian? I have known people from your tribes before, yet I cannot recall one ever as civil as yourself-nor so beautiful.” Before Arisha could reply, Lady Anne nodded in the direction of King Roald. “Ah, it appears that I am needed by His Majesty. I suspect I will be asked to find Kara and yourself something appropriate to wear for tonight.” She took two steps before turning back again. “I am so looking forward to our dance, Theodore.”
Suddenly it felt as if the eyes of all of his friends were upon him.
The occupants of the royal box thankfully left them alone, and very quickly news was shared and questions posed.
“It was at the monastery of Saradomin when we first heard word of Sulla and Jerrod,” Arisha explained. “An injured man was brought to us from The Wilderness, and he identified them. We set out some weeks ago, travelling northward in pursuit.” She shivered. “Everyone hears tales of The Wilderness, but it is a land of desolation beyond anything I would have imagined. Often, for miles and miles, day after day, there is nothing that grows there. Nothing thrives. It seems as if nature herself has given up in that land.
“On at least two occasions we missed them by misfortune alone.” Arisha and Gar’rth shared a look. “Or at least we thought it was misfortune. But we now believe that Jerrod is receiving help. It may be from his master.” She smiled grimly. “We do not know why he is doing so now, and didn’t before. We may never know. But Jerrod and Sulla are now in Varrock.”
What? Why? Theodore opened his mouth to give voice to his questions but Doric and Castimir both spoke first. Arisha put her hands up for calm.
“We don’t know why, though Pia told Kara that Sulla plans to blackmail wealthy individuals with some coded documents he has in his possession. It is dangerous of them to come here, yet they have taken that risk. We informed the city guard this afternoon, although we didn’t tell them the truth about Jerrod. That is a decision that should be made by the King and his councillors.”
“But I don’t understand,” Ebenezer said thoughtfully. “How is this Pia girl linked to Sulla?”
Arisha shook her head.
“She isn’t. The fraud she committed was of her own initiative, but she grew greedy and attempted to run without paying the gangs their dues. They sent her to Sulla as an amusing gift, aware she resembled Kara. When we first entered Varrock, this morning, we heard stories that ‘Kara-Meir’ was already here, and then later of the fraud she had committed. Kara insisted that we hunt the imposter down. Gar’rth tracked them from the Flying Donkey Inn, and this led us to Jack, who had followed his sister’s abductors.
“By the time we arrived at the barn they were using as a hideout, Sulla and Jerrod had left.”
“Can you track Sulla, Gar’rth?” Doric asked.
Gar’rth shook his head.
“No. Not in a crowded city, without a trail to follow. Not with Jerrod, who knows how to mask himself.”
Suddenly Theodore stifled a yawn. The relief at seeing his friends in good health had given him a momentary burst of energy, but it was not enough to keep him going for much longer. As he did so, William approached, and was introduced to Arisha and Gar’rth.
“Ah, Theodore,” the young noble said, “I am sorry to interrupt your well-earned reunion, but I am afraid your presence is required by King Roald.”
Theodore yawned again as he stood. His body ached in protest and, as ever, his back burned from his old wound.
“He’s been boar-hunting,” William explained to Arisha, who noted his fatigue. Before she could ask for an explanation, he turned to the squire. “Now, come along.”
William led Theodore quickly forward as the trumpets sounded. The squire saw King Roald stand, and he saw Kara’s smiling face.
“Come on, Sir Theodore. It’s time.” William muttered so quickly that Theodore thought he had imagined the words.
“What did you call-?”
But William pushed him before the King and stepped back as the trumpets ended their cry. Then the King spoke.
“Squire Theodore, of the Knights of Falador, kneel,” came the command
He did so, his legs stiff and heavy.
What is happening here?
He cast his eyes sideways to where he could just see Kara’s beaming face. Her dark eyes were filled with pride.
Is that all there is? he wondered. Pride and honest friendship? No chance of anything more?
Then he saw the vermilion cloak of King Roald swish gently as the monarch moved above him. Suddenly he felt the light tap of a thin blade upon his right shoulder, and then again upon his left.
What is he doing?
He looked to Kara again, and suddenly the look on her face made sense. Elation mixed with fear and, inexplicably, a sense of loss.
This is where I forsake all worldly passions.
King Roald’s voice sounded above him. He was a messenger ordained by god.
“Rise, Sir Theodore Kassel, Knight of Falador. And let all who stand here this day bear witness to his ascension.”
Knighted by a King of Misthalin! Few of my order have ever had such an honour! But where is the oath?
Sir Theodore stood as the crowd exploded with cheers. Trumpets sounded, and Kara jumped up to wrap her arms around him, her lithe body crushed against his in the press.
His mind went numb. He was aware of a thousand clapping spectators, of the trumpets that drowned them out, of Castimir, standing nearby under the canopy, shouting wildly.
He felt the tears tug at the corner of his eyes.
King Roald raised his hand, and the crowd fell quiet. Then he turned to the object of their celebration.
“I received a diplomatic missive from Sir Amik Varze, just yesterday,” he revealed, “asking me to elevate you as is my right as a close ally of your order. He offers you his congratulations, and bade me tell you that thanks in part to you, the Knights of Falador have renewed their numbers. Of course, you have yet to take the oath to Saradomin, but even I cannot ask that on behalf of your order. That is for Sir Amik himself to do when you next return home.”
The cheering resumed as the King sat. Kara let him go and he found himself thrust forward, hands landing on his shoulders, arms, and back in a happy torture for his bruised flesh. He saw Lady Anne appear before him, he felt her lips brush against his face in a brief kiss to which the crowd cheered, and then he was free once more, exhausted and elated.
“Well done, indeed, Sir Theodore,” William congratulated, having waited for the crowd to disperse before offering his compliments.
“Thank you very much, Lord William.” Theodore smiled to Father Lawrence as the priest made his way past, leading the young and nervous debutantes to be introduced to the King. The newly minted knight’s vision was still blurred from his emotion, and as he wiped the tears away he saw a woman with a red toque and high cheekbones walk quickly by, an unusual look upon her face. She wore a green gown.
Was that a look of fear? he wondered. Was she afraid of me?
Then Theodore’s world went cold.
Gods! I know her. She is the woman who insulted me on the square, who saw me last night when we found the body hanging from the roof. What is she doing here?
He stood, his heart racing.
King Roald. He might be in danger.
Theodore stumbled forward, pushing William out of his path. His action drew the attention of the guards and public alike.
“What are you doing?” William asked, the shove placing an expression of betrayal on his face. But Theodore ignored him and called out.