Betrayal at Falador

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