by T. S. Church
“I was intending to walk as far as the monastery, anyhow, and maybe this will be enough to buy the favour of a traveller to return the animal.” She held her hand out and opened her palm to reveal the shattered remains of the Ring of Life.
“How did you get that?” Theodore asked.
Kara looked at him before replying, as if choosing her words carefully.
“A friend gave it to me, to ease my loneliness after he found me one night in the ward.” She bowed her head.
Theodore knew of only one man who would dare incur Sir Amik’s wrath by taking it upon himself to return the object.
“Bhuler” he rasped, but then his expression softened. “It must have been him. Saradomin bless him, for he is the true heart of our order.” Tears leapt to Theodore’s eyes as he contemplated the kindly valet who all took for granted.
“Kara, I shall not let you part with such an item,” Doric insisted. “For it is obviously precious to you. I shall pay for your horse to be returned, as well as for a new animal to bear you.” He tucked his hand into his belt, his pouch jingling with coins.
A barbarian guard strode forward before Kara could reply.
“We have chosen a guide for your journey.” He pointed to where a sole figure stood obscured by the mist.
The person stepped forward, leading a horse by its muzzle. Castimir gasped, for he noted instantly the deep blue eyes and the silver tiara which kept her thick dark hair in place. It was the priestess. He felt her eyes focus on his before briefly flicking away to observe the rest of his companions. A second later and they were back on him, however.
“The priestess is to be our guide?” he asked in awe.
“She, too, has business at the monastery,” the guard said. “Although Saradomin is not our deity, we respect the ways of our neighbours, and she is being sent there to learn how to write in the manner of the monks. The priestesses of our tribes are amongst the few who are capable of recording our histories and setting down our laws. She will spend the next few months learning their skills.”
“And what is the priestess’s name?” Castimir asked with reverence.
“My name is Arisha.” She spoke softly, her blue eyes intent on the young wizard. “And I am a worshipper of Guthix.”
Castimir bowed, aware that she was important to the people who had shown them hospitality, and his friends followed his example. Even Gar’rth, clearly still fighting the inner agony that seemed to grow worse by the moment, managed to show his respect.
“Once we find Ebenezer we shall be ready to leave” Doric said, taking possession of his mule and watching Kara climb easily into the saddle of her new horse.
“Where is he anyway?” Theodore asked, anxious to begin their journey.
“Here I am,” the alchemist called, leading his own horse into the group. He was accompanied by a mule that he dragged behind, holding the reins firmly in his hands. The smaller animal was laden with saddlebags.
Castimir looked on despairingly.
“That’s where you’ve been?” The young wizard clapped his hand to his forehead in exasperation. “You’ve been sorting out which chemicals to bring with you. Do you think that’s necessary?”
“I have been sorting through my wagon for the last three hours, Castimir, as you lay dreaming in the hall. It is better to travel prepared.” His eyes focused on Gar’rth, then he turned to the others. “Are we ready to leave?”
Kara nodded and turned her horse to the west, watching with a slight smile as Doric scrambled unceremoniously onto his mule, which tolerated his efforts with a stare that could be nothing but sarcastic. As the rest of the companions prepared themselves, Arisha rode past them toward the western gate.
“Dig your heels in” Theodore called to Doric, as the dwarf was in danger of being left behind. Even Gar’rth, whom animals normally feared, had taken command of his horse and goaded it westward. The youth was heavily cloaked, shivering in the cold morn.
Doric’s mule had turned to face east. At a brisk trot it headed in the opposite direction to the others. The dwarf swore loudly in his native tongue.
“If he continues to shout like that, he’ll wake the entire village,” Castimir mused, passing Theodore on his horse with his yak’s lead held tightly in his hand. Theodore turned his mare and rode swiftly after the dwarf. He took the mule’s reins and guided the animal along behind him.
“He’s obstinate! He’s totally set against me, Theodore!” Doric protested. “No doubt he’ll try and break my neck on some mountain pass.” He fumed angrily as they trotted through the western gate.
“I think it a certainty if you continue to call her a he,” Theodore chastised him good-naturedly, to the laughter of their friends.
FORTY-TWO
Once they were on their way, the party travelled more than twenty miles over the course of the first morning.
The land was one of gentle grassy slopes and widely-spaced trees, with hints of spring beginning to show. But a quick glance north to the hills beyond showed that the way would get harder as they progressed.
When they stopped to rest, Theodore stood silently, looking to the southwest in the direction of Falador. He imagined he could actually see the sun reflect off the white walls of the city, but he told himself that he was too far away to make it out.
He’d sent word to the knights with the man Doric had paid to take Kara’s stolen horse back to the city. But still he knew they were alone, beyond any help, travelling into remote territory with a monster pursuing them.
As they took to the road again, Castimir made good use of the time by talking to the priestess. Arisha, Theodore noted, was willing to talk, eager to learn of different places and customs.
“But is it true, Castimir? Can the seers who live in Kandarin really see into the future?” she asked.
“I am doubtful, Arisha,” he replied knowingly. “I never actually visited them myself. But the fishermen of Catherby seemed to believe it so.” The wizard smiled. “But they also spoke of fish that could fly, and leviathans big enough to sink the largest vessel with a flick of their tail or a grapple of their tentacles.”
By midday the travellers were famished and they made a halt. Each of them took the opportunity to stretch their legs and eat.
“The land will change from here on” Arisha warned them. “The afternoon will be tiring for our beasts.”
It was during their break that Kara finally realised what it was that had caught Gar’rth’s attention in the hall. She had unsheathed her sword and immediately Gar’rth’s black eyes had focused on it. Curious, she handed it to him to see what he would do.
“It is very sharp, Gar’rth” she said softly as the youth raised it to his face, looking at the blade closely. Suddenly he lowered his nose to it and sniffed, his eyes widening in recognition.
It took her a moment to realize what that meant.
“Do you smell blood on the blade, Gar’rth?” she asked. “Is that what you recognised in the hall?” The blood of the werewolf had left a pungent scent that even she could detect, for she had not had a chance to clean her blade properly.
Gar’rth nodded.
“I wounded him, Gar’rth. He was hurt badly.” She saw his eyes rise to hers in wonder. “It might be that he crawled somewhere to die.”
The youth shook his head. He returned the sword to her reverentially.
The afternoon journey was as arduous as Arisha had said it would be. From the outset, the land rose steeply and the trail grew increasingly treacherous under the hooves of their steeds. Few words were spoken by the travellers.
Castimir felt weary now and spoke rarely, his concentration set on ducking his head from any low branches and ensuring that the yak was safe on the often-sliding rock paths. Others on horses fared less well still, and Kara glared angrily at Arisha, as if blaming her for the route she had chosen. Theodore had said more than once how he wished he had brought a helmet with him to protect his face.
The alchemist, too, said nothing,
his concentration fixed on the mule beside him, its saddlebags filled with chemicals.
It was after several hours, when Ebenezer urged the beast on and pulled on its rein to guide it away from a steep drop, that Castimir’s patience finally snapped.
“Why on earth did you bring those things?” he demanded. “Our journey is not going to last us more than a week. Are they so important to you?”
“My chemicals are very important, Castimir,” the alchemist replied calmly. “They are my life’s work, and not a single hour goes by when I am not either thinking or dreaming about them.”
“There’s his chemistry again” Castimir said sarcastically to no one in particular. “What use are sacks of rocks when you’ve got magic?”
This time Ebenezer shot him a glance that made the wizard uneasy, but the old man refused to be drawn back into their ongoing debate.
They stopped near a still lake with crystal-clear waters, formed by the run-off from the melting snows high up on Ice Mountain. Unafraid of the travellers, large silver fish played near the surface.
“We should stop here for the night,” Arisha announced. “It will be getting dark soon, and we have come far today. I shall gather some wood for a fire.”
The priestess tied her horse to a tree stump and headed into the woods with Doric in tow, keeping within sight of the travellers.
Castimir groaned at the thought of food, his eyes on the silver flashes that caught the evening sun as the fish leapt out of the water.
“Do you think you could catch any of them?” Theodore asked, following his friend’s gaze.
“When I was in Catherby I learned to fish” Castimir replied. “They look as if they could feed us all.” He went to his yak and began to dig in his pack, emerging a few seconds later with a line, a hook, and several wood poles that screwed together to form two rods. “This won’t take long, Theo” he boasted confidently.
Theodore’s expression was doubtful.
“There’s nothing like fresh fish!” Castimir yelled gleefully, running to the edge of the lake like an excited child. He handed a rod to Theodore and the two friends patiently cast out their lines.
Half an hour later their good humour had disappeared as the fish evaded all attempts to catch them.
“Maybe you should use your magic, Castimir,” the alchemist said laughing.
The wizard turned to him.
“Can’t you make yourself useful and light the fire?” he retorted.
Ebenezer made no reply, and busied himself preparing Gar’rth’s herbal drink. Smugly, Castimir cast a quick look at Gar’rth and Kara, for the two were sitting huddled together, the young woman holding his hand in hers. Her face was etched with concern. He noticed also how Theodore avoided looking in their direction, instead staring stonily at the lake before them.
Poor Theodore, he thought. I’d wager his duty has never felt more onerous than now. The death of the peon must pain him deeply, as must feelings for Kara that can never be fulfilled.
Arisha and Doric returned, having gathered enough wood for their needs, and Castimir grinned as he watched Ebenezer’s hesitant attempts to prepare the fire. It would not be long now until he could prove the value of his magic over the old man’s science.
After a moment of watching Ebenezer’s woeful attempts at starting a fire, Theodore gave a curt smile and left the lakeside to help.
“The wood is wet” the old man complained. “It won’t catch.”
Castimir hurriedly pulled in his line, aware that Theodore might well succeed before he’d had a chance to prove his point to Ebenezer. The wizard ran swiftly to his yak and pulled his staff from its leather straps. It glowed a fiery red in the dimming light.
Then he laughed theatrically as he approached the heaped kindling.
“Stand back!” he hollered, lowering the top of his staff to touch the damp wood. He furrowed his brow in concentration and the red light burned angrily in the knotted tip, a mysterious red flame threatening to burst from its wooden prison.
The heat rose from the glowing staff and suddenly, with a crackle and a hiss, the damp wood caught light, the fire roaring to life with unexpected ferocity.
Ebenezer jumped back with a yell.
“Get some water! He’ll have the whole forest up!” The alchemist ran to the lake, wading in up to his knees before realising that he didn’t have anything in which to gather the water.
“It’s all right,” Castimir laughed boastingly. “I have it under control now. It’s a fire staff, alchemist—similar to my fire runes. I can light a room with a cosy glow or throw a ball of fire. The white wolves on the mountain near Taverley learned that to their cost.”
The young wizard beamed a happy smile toward Ebenezer who, with an angry look, waded back to the land. He pointedly ignored his young friend as he moved to dry his feet near the now-roaring fire.
“Magic works where science fails.” The wizard laughed one more time for good measure, before stowing his staff and walking back to continue his fishing. His good mood was heightened by the smile Arisha gave him.
“Are you going to catch anything, Castimir?” Kara called. “We’re all hungry, and the sun’s warmth is fading.”
“Have faith in a magician, young lady,” Castimir called back, silently praying for a good bite.
“We have a fire, but nothing to cook on it” Doric mused, lighting his pipe.
“Patience, master dwarf!” Castimir called as Theodore cast his line back out
A chill breeze blew across the lake’s surface, and the wizard shivered as the sun’s rays failed to warm him. He cursed inwardly and wondered if any magic might persuade the fish to bite.
Ebenezer stood up and went to his saddlebags, where he hunted through the packs. After a moment his hands settled on a long tube. Gently he unscrewed the lid, releasing the faint scent of oil. He reached carefully inside.
“Stand back!” he shouted, withdrawing a thin silvery object and throwing it into an area of water where the fish were playing.
Neither Castimir nor Theodore had time to duck. A second after the metal hit the water a bright flash erupted, followed by a loud explosion that covered the encampment in a brief squall of water, as if a rain cloud had come and gone in an instant.
Castimir lost his balance and his flailing arms failed to prevent him from falling face first into the lake with a startled cry. Every onlooker stood up in amazement, Doric seizing his axe as he did so.
But the initial explosion wasn’t the end of the alchemist’s performance. Pieces of metal scattered across the lake, causing smaller explosions to ripple out as they reacted with the water, each in turn.
After only a few seconds the scene grew still once more.
“What in the name of the Abyss was that?” Theodore exclaimed.
“That was science, my young friend. A tube of sodium coated in oil to preserve it from the air. It explodes when combined with water. Now if you don’t mind, you may gather the fish!”
Theodore glanced back at the water, and grinned in surprise. The explosion had stunned a dozen large fish that now floated close to the surface. Eagerly, he waded in and grabbed as many as he could, throwing them back to Castimir who, shivering from the cold water, laid them on the bank.
“Science, Castimir,” the old man said firmly. “It has rules that are stronger than any magic. Rules that allow results to be anticipated and reproduced.”
The wizard said nothing, his eyes burning angrily as he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell of fish on his robes and hands.
“My dear friend, Castimir,” the old man added, “if the wizard thing doesn’t work out, I’m sure you’ll make an excellent fishmonger.” The alchemist’s words were followed by discreet laughter from his friends.
The young mage took a deep breath and clenched his fists tightly.
Ignore him, Castimir, he thought darkly. Let the lunatic have his fun. He bent down to pick up the last of the fish, and was surprised to see Arisha standing nearby.
Her smile drove all ill thought from his mind.
“You’ll catch a chill, Castimir” she said with concern. “Come over to the fire to dry off.” He complied happily, and she handed him a bear-skin coat that was large enough to cover him from head to foot. “Wear that while your robe dries,” she ordered with an amused smile. “The sun will be gone in a moment, and this high in the mountains the cold will be crisp. The fire will be the only heat we have.”
Castimir accepted her offer without a word, hiding behind his yak to change. Wet from wading out to retrieve the fish, Theodore did likewise, borrowing Ebenezer’s coat while his clothes dried next to Castimir’s.
Later, after they had eaten their fill, drawn into a nostalgic mood by the sweet smell of Doric’s pipe and Arisha’s humming, the two young friends sat side by side leaning against a log in front of the fire, reflecting on their antics as children. They laughed at remembrances of the giant rats that lived to the east of Rimmington where they had grown up. Although the size of a pig, the animals had been uncommonly stupid and clumsy. Hunting them with rocks or arrows had been a frequent hobby of the children.
“They were happy times” Castimir said, and he yawned, weariness upon him. Theodore didn’t answer, so he looked over to his friend, and smiled to himself when he noted the squire’s low snoring.
Dreaming of the home he hadn’t seen for a long time, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep by the fire on the shores of the clear lake.
FORTY-THREE
Sulla sat in silence, his one good eye straining in the dim light of the torch.
He had led a small army of fifty of his horsemen and a hundred foot soldiers down from Ice Mountain the day before, but his swift progress had been delayed by the lumbering weapons of the chaos dwarfs. It had taken them all day to catch up and Sulla had used the time to issue new edicts to his troops, dispatching messengers to his spies abroad as well as liaising with the sybil.
His master plan was coming together. Crown Prince Anlaf, in command of the substantial Imperial Guard, was of great concern, but the sybil had assured Sulla of the prince’s inaction. For months now she had sent terrible dreams that tormented him, making him fearful and paranoid. Without his capable command, the Imperial Guard would be unable to interfere.