by T. S. Church
Not far from the park, Doric sighed bitterly.
He had moved to a rented room that had unexpectedly become available in The Rising Sun. He had also lodged his claim with the magistrate in an effort to recover some of his possessions, but he knew it would be many months before any result would be forthcoming. Still, he thought, it was a first step on a long road that he knew he had to take.
The dwarf browsed the markets in the city, casting his knowledgeable eye over the precious stones that some of the merchants sold. Several times he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from criticising the workmanship on the polished metalwork that was on display.
His eyes focused on the gems on one of the stalls, weighing up their quality and quietly dismissing their value. As he did, the trader spoke.
“You know the woman? The beggar?” the man said to his neighbour.
“I know her,” came the answer. “She tried to take one of my silks last year. When I caught her she pretended to be insane.”
“Mad I think she may be. Look at this-she sold this gem to me this morning. Have you ever seen anything finer?”
Their talk drew Doric’s attention, and he was eager to see the stone that the trader prized so greatly, certain it could not compare to those in his own collection.
“I paid a small fortune for it!” the trader said, and he laughed as he noticed Doric’s curiosity. “Here, dwarf, your kind are well-known for their skill and appreciation of such things. What do you think?” The man handed the gem to Doric, his eyes shining happily. He knew it was of a far better quality than any he had possessed before.
Doric took the gem in his hand, weighing it first before unclenching his fist to look at it, and when he did so the blood drained from his face and he let out a strangled cry.
“What is it?” the trader said with alarm. “Are you all right, my friend?”
“Where did you get this thing?” Doric demanded.
“An old lady sold it to me this very morning,” the man replied. “Why, what is wrong with it?”
“It belongs to me!” the dwarf said loudly. “I would know it anywhere. It was taken from me several days ago, when my house was burned and ransacked by yokels who had been whipped into a fervour by those purple-robed idiots. Squire Theodore and I found their bodies a day later-the monster had killed all of them.”
“That cannot be,” the trader insisted. “It was an old lady who sold it to me. I promise you!”
“I am not concerned about the gem,” Doric said. “The purple-robed men took the best of my collection and the monster, in turn, must have taken it from them. If it has been sold in Falador, then that means the monster is inside the city!” He peered around, as if he expected the creature to appear.
His shouting attracted the attention of the city guards, and several men clad in chain mail stepped close about him. One of them laid a hand on his right shoulder, gripping it firmly.
“That’ll be enough, dwarf!” one of them said sternly. “Continue to alarm the citizens and you’ll have to come with us!”
Doric tried to shrug off the painful grip. A crowd began to gather.
“The monster is inside the city!” he implored. “Don’t you see?”
Anxious looks appeared on faces in the crowd, and some of the onlookers were repeating the dwarf’s words. A young woman with a child held close to her breast looked at Doric in sudden fear.
“Is it true? Is it here?” Her face paled further and she swayed on suddenly unsteady legs. “Remember what they said it did to the gypsy caravan? My child…” Her words ended as she fainted and a man behind moved to catch her.
“That is enough!” announced the guard with his hand on Doric’s shoulder. “Go about your business! The dwarf is under arrest for causing a public disturbance.”
At that, Doric was seized by the guards. He struggled silently, his anger preventing him from speaking coherently. Although several of the crowd had dispersed, there was still a considerable gathering.
“Why does he say such a thing?” someone shouted from the onlookers.
“Who’s to know?” the guard answered loudly. “The monster cannot be in the city. The gates are guarded night and day, and someone would have noticed if it tried to sneak in.”
Many nodded in agreement, but not everyone. All had heard the rumours of the beast, and all had imagined what it must be like. The fact that it had killed a dozen men and ripped a gypsy caravan apart had many believing it was a bear-sized creature or bigger. And how could a bear possibly sneak unnoticed into the city of Falador?
Finally Doric found his voice.
“Send for Squire Theodore of the knights! He will verify my story,” he demanded. Then, realizing it was futile, he ceased struggling.
“In good time, dwarf,” the guard said. “You’ll spend a night in a cell-that’ll help you to cool down, and teach you not to make a nuisance of yourself.”
The guards led the dwarf away as several men shouted from the crowd, accusing him of worrying their wives and children needlessly. A few voices even jeered at him for being a drunkard.
But the dwarf’s conviction had got the gem trader thinking.
It was extremely odd, he realized, that the madwoman who was well-known on Falador’s streets should have come by something so valuable.
Suddenly the thought of his wife and daughter alone at home made him uneasy.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“Kara can stay in the ward a few more days,” Sir Amik said, feeding a scrap of meat to the huge falcon that sat beside him on a perch. “The matron is unwilling to let her out-despite her ability to beat Marius, she still insists our guest is not completely healed. Although there is no longer any need for Kara to wear the clothes of an invalid. She can wear the ones Bhuler had made for her.”
Theodore was certain Sir Amik was hiding something. As if sensing the young squire’s unease, the knight’s falcon flapped its wings as it adjusted its balance.
“I want you to give Kara more of your time, Theodore” he said. “We must try to unearth what it is that she knows.”
“And what of my other duties, sir?” Theodore asked.
“Your other duties can be delegated to other squires for now. Your challenge to Marius is important, I know, but that is five days away. Kara is everything right now.” When the young man didn’t reply, Sir Amik peered at him and continued. “Has she said anything about her father?”
“Nothing” Theodore responded. “She has no recollection that her father was a knight, and she hasn’t recalled anything with regard to Justrain, which is probably just as well.”
“Ah! So you know why Justrain’s daughter is so important?”
“Everyone knows of his unfounded accusations-now that they’ve been reminded, it’s all anyone can talk about.” Theodore’s belief in the knights prevented him from admitting even the possibility of treachery. “Some say that Kara might be the key to ending it all.”
“You sound doubtful.”
“She had never even heard the name Justrain before you told her,” Theodore said. “She can barely remember her father, let alone any secrets they might have had. Even if there was a traitor she will be absolutely no help in identifying him. I have said so repeatedly, just today.”
Sir Amik turned on him quickly, suddenly angry.
“You must not say that, Theodore! That is an order,” he barked. “Such opinions must remain your own. I called you here because I want your help. You are to tell others that Kara’s memory is getting better-that she is recalling more of her youth and of her father’s conversations. Do you understand?”
Theodore was startled, and not entirely certain that he did understand.
“Then there was a traitor?” he asked uncertainly.
Sir Amik said nothing.
“And you are asking me to lie,” the squire continued. “To Kara, and to others in our order?” This flew in the face of so much that he had been taught about the knighthood.
Sir Amik put a hand
to his forehead in distress.
“I am doing exactly that” he said. “I know it goes against everything we stand for, but we cannot pass up an opportunity like this. To do so would allow a murderer to escape justice.”
Theodore’s brow creased in puzzlement.
“A murderer?” he uttered quietly.
“Oh yes, Theodore. Many of our order have perished under mysterious circumstances, and some had families who were targeted by Zamorak’s agents. All of this happened long before you joined the knights.” He paused for a moment, appearing to gather his thoughts. “In my position, Theodore, I must make hard choices, but I can truthfully say that putting Kara in harm’s way is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”
“You believe her to be in danger?” Theodore’s voice was suddenly very high, his words strangled in disbelief.
“If the traitor is still alive, then it could be so,” Sir Amik admitted. “That is why I haven’t moved her from the ward, and that is why you are to spend as much time as you can with her without arousing suspicion.”
“I am to guard her then?” Theodore asked.
“That, and observe,” the knight acknowledged. “Watch who comes to see her, and make sure she doesn’t go out around the castle. She doesn’t know that she is the bait for our trap, and therefore she cannot be allowed to break the illusion that what she knows is vital to unmasking the traitor. You do understand, do you not?”
Theodore nodded, suddenly feeling unclean.
“I do understand, sir. And I will obey your orders. But I take no joy in doing so. What I do, I do for the good of the order, and perhaps the ruination of myself.”
Sir Amik had no reply. The young man bowed his head and left.
The old woman was restless. She chewed on her dirt-stained fingers, her eyes flashing nervously from left to right.
She stepped to the small doorway and looked through into the darkness within. Her lodger was sleeping, his body motionless in the shadows with his hands behind his head. He slept in absolute silence, and for a moment she hoped he might be dead.
“He is rich” she said to herself softly, for that same afternoon she had seen the contents of his pouch, the glittering jewels. “And he is sleeping. How can I lose this opportunity?” Her greed overcame her conscience. The knife felt heavy in her sweaty grasp. “It will only take a few seconds. He won’t feel a thing.”
She stepped through the doorway, careful to avoid the creaking and unsteady floorboards. Within a few seconds she was standing over her sleeping guest.
She raised the knife, breathing out slowly. And then she drove the knife downward into his body.
His cry was all the louder for the silence that had preceded it.
She pushed down with all her weight. But something was wrong.
There was no blood.
The knife pierced the skin easily enough, but there was something underneath that prevented it from going any further, something that gave a sound like sackcloth tearing.
And he stopped screaming. His arm was drawn across his face, his breathing deep. Then the hoarse laughing began.
“How utterly pathetic!” he sneered, his voice animalistic and inhuman.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling the knife out quickly as if she thought that was enough to make him forgive her. Then, suddenly, she stabbed down again, trying to pierce his heart.
The blade hit his body and failed to penetrate the sackclothlike coating that lay beneath his robe. He laughed once more. His huge hand seized hers and squeezed, causing her to let out a shriek of terror.
“You’re hurting me!” she gasped, falling to her knees.
He tightened his grip on her hand and old bones cracked under his fingers. Her breath came out in rapid gulps, each one a grunt of pain.
“Have mercy on an old lady!” she wept. Never before had she felt such agony.
“I shall give you the same mercy you offered me,” he growled. With his free hand he pulled back the hood, his red eyes glaring in the darkness, his long teeth gleaming under his wide nose.
“No!” she gasped. “No!” Her heart was pounding in her chest.
“You humans are all alike.” He released her hand and she could feel her old skin torn into strips by her broken bones, wet with her own blood. “I assume you are interested in my expensive jewels?”
She shook her head feebly, a last attempt to deny her greed.
He reached for his pouch, and plunged a clawed hand into it.
“You may have this one-the largest one!” He withdrew the hand, which held a huge opal between thumb and forefinger, bringing it just an inch away from her eyes. Then he grabbed her jaw with his free hand and forced her mouth open, inserting the opal before she could resist. Her attempt to bite seemed only to amuse him. Her soft gums barely tickled his thick skin, for she had lost all her teeth years before.
He shook her violently and she swallowed the opal in a single gulp, the large gemstone lodging in her throat. With a savage push the monster sent her staggering into the centre of the room, where she fell.
The old woman’s hands reached for her throat as she began to choke. But nothing could dislodge the opal. Her last thought was to avenge herself on her murderer, to reveal his presence to the citizens of Falador, but she hadn’t enough strength even to reach the door.
The monster watched her die without any satisfaction. He had suspected she might attempt something like this.
Yet killing her meant that he had to act quickly now. She was, he knew, well-known in the marketplace. It would only be a matter of time before she was missed. He needed to lure Theodore out of his castle for a lengthy and very private interrogation.
And he needed to do it immediately.
TWENTY-NINE
It was morning, and Doric was angry.
After a sleepless night in one of Falador’s gaols, spent in the company of a flatulent drunkard, he was released at dawn with a warning from the guard who had arrested him.
“No more talk of the monster, citizen,” the man said pompously. “We can’t afford a panic in the city.” With that, the self-important law-giver shut the door.
As he stood alone in the morning light, Doric shivered, and anger gave way to wisdom. He recalled the scene of the purple-robed men who had been killed in their sleep. It was no mere animal with a taste for flesh they were after; it was a callous assassin, a cunning murderer who possessed monstrous strength. Whatever it was, its intellect made it doubly dangerous.
His first plan was to alert Theodore. He made his way to the castle, and his mood darkened further when he was told by a guard that the squire could not take the time to see him.
“You have not even told him that I am here,” he said angrily. “Tell the squire that the monster is in the city.” His voice rose, and he tried his best to put fear into the man. “Tell Sir Amik to recall his men from the countryside. Tell him to bring them home to patrol the streets of Falador!”
But to no avail. The guard ceased even responding to his entreaties, and he left with a foul curse on his lips. With no other course to follow, he returned to The Rising Sun and retrieved his weaponry and helm, for he would not be caught unguarded. It was shortly after midday when he found his way once more to the gem stall in the marketplace.
The trader gave him a long look as he saw him approaching.
“You won’t be disturbing my customers again, will you, master dwarf?” he asked.
“No disturbance today,” the dwarf said quietly, swallowing his pride and leaning heavily on his axe. He couldn’t let his temper get the better of him again. “But I am interested in the old woman. Do you happen to know where she lives?”
The trader pointed the dwarf toward a squalid quarter with narrow streets and dark alleys that people called the Dens.
“Most people in Falador know of her, my friend,” he said, his tone almost conspiratorial now. “If you head that way and continue asking, then you should be able to find her.”
Dor
ic thanked the man and slung his axe over his shoulder. As he left the marketplace he ran his hand over the two sharp daggers he had secured in his belt, and the smaller throwing axes that hung from his hip.
He took comfort in his weapons, and he had a grim feeling that he would be glad to have them.
Theodore pulled back the cloth and smiled as Kara’s eyes widened in happiness.
“I thought you should have it back.” The words came surprisingly easy to Theodore as he watched her examine the adamant sword closely.
It is because I am telling her the truth, he thought to himself.Kara should have her sword, and not just in case she might need it to protect herself from the traitor.
“Thank you, Theodore.” She put the sword down and embraced him. The young man stiffened at her touch. She released him with an embarrassed look.
“You said you had received a message-was it important?” she asked suddenly, changing the subject to that of the anxious guard who had knocked nervously at the door some hours earlier.
“Not really” Theodore lied. The guard had told him how angry Doric had been at being denied entry to the castle, and how he had raved about the monster. Perhaps, Theodore thought, he had been drinking again.
And yet…
He went to the window and looked up at the ramparts. The day was cloudy. Sir Amik had invited the residents of the almshouse into the castle, and quite unexpectedly. He had requested their help in teaching the peons, for their training was suffering because many knights had been sent to hunt the monster in the countryside north of Falador. The old warriors had willingly agreed, thankful to be of use to their order once more.
Yet Theodore knew the truth. He knew it was a ploy by Sir Amik to bring the traitor back amongst them, to let him think he had a realistic chance of striking at Kara before he could be identified.