thought, as he returned to Sir Amik’s quarters.
Sir Amik was no better.
“Bhuler, I would like you to tell me something.” His voice was tremulous. “I have always tried to do what is good for our order,” he began.
The valet nodded, and waited for more.
“But sometimes such dedication demands a sacrifice.” Bhuler noted a far-away look in his eyes. “What will they say of me when I am dead?”
“Sir Amik?” Bhuler asked, certain he had heard incorrectly.
“Have I been a good knight, Bhuler?” Sir Amik pressed. “Have I served our order with honour?”
“Undoubtedly, Sir Amik,” the valet declared. “Your name will live in the hearts of those who come after us, and will be held high as an example to them all.”
Sir Amik smiled wanly.
“Thank you, Bhuler, and good night.”
The valet turned and left the room, closing the door quietly, his mind disturbed. What could have prompted such unnerving questions? His thoughts turned to Kara. Her coming was the catalyst for many things, and he recalled the sad look he had seen on her face that afternoon after her victory over Marius.
Something drew him to the ward, and soon he found himself outside the wooden door, his hand unwilling to open it at such a late hour. He stood silently for a moment, unsure of what to do, when a sound from within caught his attention.
It was the sound of someone crying.
He could not ignore someone in distress. Silently he opened the door. There was only one person in the room.
It was Kara. She had the sheet pulled over her, as if hiding herself from the world.
“Kara. It is me… Bhuler.” The valet crept forward and spoke in a low voice as he reached out to pull the sheet back.
She didn’t try to stop him, and instead tried to hide her face in her arms, clearly unwilling to let anyone see her in such distress.
“What is wrong, Kara?” The valet reached forward and pushed the girl’s hands gently away from her tear- streaked face.
Her dark eyes met his.
“I am a nobody, Bhuler,” she hissed. “Marius was right. I can never be a knight. I don’t even know who I am!” Her words were wracked by pained sobs.
Bhuler unconsciously put his arm around her, drawing her into his comforting embrace.
“You fought better than any squire I’ve ever seen, Kara,” he whispered to her, pulling the strands of blonde hair away from her face. “None have beaten Marius in such a contest before- and you did it so easily.”
“It changes nothing,” she said into his shoulder.
“It changes
He pushed her away and looked at her gently, his eyes sparkling.
“You may not know your own history just yet, Kara, but you must continue to do what is right for today, not what was right in whatever past you may have lived. We must learn from history, but we cannot be bound by it.”
She looked at him and nodded. He kissed her gently on her forehead, and she lay back on her pillow, her sobs subsiding.
“You should sleep now, Kara,” he said. “I will watch over you.”
And with Bhuler sitting silently at her bedside, Kara-Meir slept as peacefully as he had seen since her arrival, calmed by the presence of her friend.
TWENTY-FOUR
“I have discussed Gar’rth’s affliction with my coven and I do not think we can be of any more help to him.” Kaqemeex’s expression was pained as he made this confession.
“You have done more than we had any right to expect, my friend,” Ebenezer said gently. The druids had developed a potion that had relieved Gar’rth of his ailment, yet it seemed his body was rebelling against it. Soon, the alchemist knew, the potions would be useless.
“There is another option, however,” Kaqemeex offered. “There is a monastery northeast of here, close to The Wilderness. The monks there, under Abbot Langley, are worshippers of Saradomin. They may have the power to heal the boy.”
Gar’rth was standing close by, his head lowered in unease.
“Then we shall go there, and soon,” Ebenezer said, glancing at Gar’rth with a fond look in his eyes. “I am sure Castimir will accompany us-it will be useful having a wizard at our side with the monster still on the loose.”
“The birds have told me of the beast, my friend,” Kaqemeex said earnestly. “It is no longer at large in the wild. It went south and has passed beyond the limits of my spies. I think the east road to Varrock will be clear of any danger, for the Knights of Falador have sent many of their agents abroad to guard travellers, and even the Imperial Guard are helping.
“I would suggest that you make for the River Lum, and take advantage of the hospitality of the barbarian folk. From there the monastery is just a few days north, east of Ice Mountain.”
Ebenezer nodded.
“Then we shall leave today to take advantage of all the time that may be given us. Have you prepared the potions for Gar’rth?”
“I have, but once they are gone, I feel certain that no potion we can make will be strong enough to help him. His only hope is the monastery.” The druid bowed low, turned, and departed.
From an upper window which he had opened to let in the morning light, Castimir watched the druid go. He had heard their conversation, and he quietly feared for Gar’rth. They had developed a tentative friendship stemming from his willingness to educate the unfortunate youth in the common tongue.
The young wizard made ready to pack his belongings, securing his precious rune stones in their many pouches upon his belt. He preferred to travel light, with only two packs and a straight staff which glowed a fiery red at its knotted top.
“Ah well,” he sighed as he found his yak in the stables. “Off I go again. Farewell, peaceful Taverley-until next time.”
In fact, every inch of Castimir was itching to depart. He had nearly finished his year’s wanderings, and he was eager to see as much as he could before he had to return to the Wizards’ Tower. The tales of the barbarians and their hospitality had been an inspiration to him when he was young, so he was eager to experience it first hand.
“I wonder if what they say about the barbarian women is true?” he asked his beast as he slung the first pack over the creature’s back.
The phlegmatic yak looked at him as if it thought him mad, and didn’t bother to answer.
TWENTY-FIVE
“Crown Prince Anlaf, has he been having your dreams?”
Sulla spoke with authority to the sybil, who stood in the red-carpeted meeting hall of the Kinshra.
“He has,” the hag replied. “He will soon be paralysed with fear, unable to make a decision, open to the suggestions given by our supporters in Burthorpe. Through his indecisiveness the Imperial Guard will be
