“Wait! My King, wait!”
The court went silent. No one moved.
“Speak, Sir Theodore,” King Roald ordered, an edge of anger in his voice.
At his side, Theodore saw how Kara’s hand tightened on her sword hilt.
“It is this woman, Sire.” He approached the woman in the green dress, and pointed. “You.” As he drew near he saw that she was panting heavily, as if panic was not far away.
“Ellamaria?” Father Lawrence queried. “What of her?”
“Why does she go alone around the city? For I have seen her there the last two evenings, under suspicious circumstances.”
His words caused a murmur to spread through the crowd. Two of Captain Rovin’s men appeared before the King, and two more, Theodore noted, appeared behind him.
“Is that a crime?” Ellamaria demanded, but her voice betrayed fear, and her lip was shaking. “No, the crime is that people are vanishing and being murdered. But is it a crime to ask why? Is it a crime to confront a conspiracy of silence, orchestrated by the very highest in the realm?” Her voice grew louder, and she wiped away tears. Suddenly she turned on Lord Despaard and pointed at him with a look of hatred. “You! You are the one! You are the one who takes people and paints the mark of the plague over their doors. I have seen you do it!”
“This woman is drunk, or mad,” Despaard shouted angrily. “Remove her!”
No one moved.
Someone in the crowd shouted in anger.
“She’s right,” they said. “It happened just last night!”
“And last week,” another cried. “An entire family, gone!”
In an instant the cries that had celebrated Theodore’s knighthood had turned to anger and fear. An apple disappeared into the royal box behind the King’s head, hurled from the bailey and striking the makeshift wooden structure with a loud thump.
Emboldened, Ellamaria shouted over the din, and those nearby stopped to listen.
“They are held at Draul Leptoc’s estate,” she said. “I have been there. I have seen it!”
“Saradomin forgive me,” Father Lawrence muttered, his head in his hands.
The crowd booed and yelled as other things were thrown. A tomato struck Theodore on his chest, leaving a red stain upon his white tunic, and a rock narrowly missed his head.
“The woman is right!” someone in the crowd yelled. “There is a plague upon this city!”
“The curse of Morytania is upon us. Our sins have doomed us all.”
“The true king is coming.”
Captain Rovin leaned down toward the King and spoke into his ear.
“Never!” the King replied angrily. “I will not order my archers to shoot on my own people.”
“Then confront them, my King” Kara said calmly. “Confront them and promise to hear their concerns. You must buy time.”
King Roald pursed his lips as he stood. He advanced to the wall’s edge and held his hand up. An apple core struck his golden crown.
But still he remained until no more missiles were thrown. Finally the crowd fell silent, and all eyes were upon him.
“I will hold a council,” he announced. “A parliament, as is the right of the covenant between the lords of Varrock and her peoples. Tomorrow morning we shall debate and decide what to do. Until then, this Midsummer Festival is ended.”
The crowd remained silent as the King spun and stalked along the northern wall back to the palace, many of the courtiers following in his wake.
They have tasted the barest power of the mob, Theodore realised. And they are afraid.
Lord Despaard remained behind, and he turned toward the source of the confrontation.
“Arrest her,” he instructed the guards nearest Ellamaria.
“On what charge?” she countered, but much of her confidence had fled.
“Treason,” he gritted. “Disrupting the public peace. Witchcraft. Any charge will do.” Two of the guards stepped up beside her and grasped her arms roughly. A little too roughly, Theodore thought.
As she was led away she cast a look back at him.
“I go to my prison knowing I have done right,” she said. “I will sleep well this night, Sir Theodore. But I wonder if you will do the same?”
And suddenly, his knighthood tasted slightly bitter.
8
“We haven’t time to send for Thessalia, with the dance only hours away, so we shall go to her. It really is most unladylike, but there is no time for an alternative.”
Surrounded by an escort of mounted guardsmen, Lady Anne led Kara through the palace at a swift walk to where a carriage was waiting.
“I have sent a messenger to tell her we are coming.” Suddenly, as she lifted her foot onto the step, she turned and looked at Kara with a frown. “Do you really need to bring your sword?”
Perhaps you are afraid? Kara wondered. That suits me well enough.
“I haven’t even had time to change from my travelling clothes, Lady Anne. Nor have I had time to bathe or rest since my arrival in Varrock this morning. I haven’t even had a chance to speak to my friends since you whisked me away from the festival.”
“There will be time for that later,” Anne said. Kara thought she detected a note of anger in her voice. “And I am doing you a favour Kara-Meir. If you want to attend the dance tonight looking like a… a woodcutter’s daughter, then that will be to your disadvantage.”
Woodcutter’s daughter? An interesting phrase.
Kara stepped up and sat opposite her on the plush cushions. She saw how Anne’s face ran coldly over her mud-stained leggings.
I wonder if I have left a mark?
I do hope so.
A second young woman climbed inside and sat at a respectful distance. She still wore the same happy smile that she had when Anne had commanded her to come with them. Kara noted a prominent gap between the dark-haired girl’s front teeth, which made her smile far more pleasing.
“What do you think Thessalia will be able to do with her, Lady Caroline?” Anne asked their companion.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Caroline replied, then she turned to Kara. “You have fine skin, Lady Kara. It is too tanned to be of fashionable tastes, but everyone knows you have been travelling in The Wilderness-”
“She is no lady!” Anne scolded sharply. Caroline bowed her head, and Anne turned to their companion, a practiced look of contrition on her face. “I mean no offence Kara, but here in Varrock tradition is what keeps our city in order. Everyone knows their place. You do understand?”
Yes I do. I most certainly do you spiteful-
The carriage shuddered violently as it jerked into motion, interrupting her thoughts.
Something in Kara’s eyes must have told Anne to calm her tongue, and instead she turned to Caroline, who sat nervously, looking out of the window as the carriage drove onto the square and through the crowds.
“Did I tell you that Lord de Adlard wishes to dance with you this evening, Caroline?” Anne asked lightly.
The younger woman-probably no more than seventeen- blushed and smiled involuntarily.
“No, you hadn’t mentioned it.” Suddenly she frowned slightly, and her voice wavered when she spoke. “What do you think people will say?”
“William de Adlard is not the most prestigious name in court, Caroline, that is true. But his is an old name, and although he may be a godless man, with no belief in Saradomin, and a man with no martial ambitions, you must remember that his grandfather was chancellor for a time, and an able one too, I believe.”
Kara saw Caroline’s dark eyes dip doubtfully.
“But is he not a little… dull?”
“That is to be commended, my dear sweet lamb,” Anne laughed.
Kara grimaced, hiding her eyes under her hand.