Only Marius failed to heed the command, for he was overcome by grief.
“I should have been with them, Bhuler. Many squires went, and few enough have returned. I should have gone… I should have died with my brothers…”
“Come, Marius,” Bhuler said sternly. “It was by Sir Amik’s command that you were confined to the castle. You are now a Knight of Falador, for too many of our order have fallen for you to be anything less! Don’t just stand there-help me get Sir Amik to his chamber.”
“Where is my banner?” Sir Amik cried as they dragged him toward the stairwell. “Where are my knights?” he called, gasping in pain from the wounds that had pierced his leg and side. “Where is Saradomin? Why does he not help us? Why? Why has he forsaken us?”
Bhuler hid his tears. He knew very well that the wounds Sir Amik had sustained would likely prove fatal, and that the shock of leading the knights to defeat had driven him to despair.
SIXTY-ONE
The way was lit by the torches of the dwarf patrol and the glow of Castimir’s staff.
Doric’s head had been hastily bandaged, but he had not stirred since he had struck the rock-hard ice, so Theodore’s mare carried him on her back.
“He will recover, Kara-Meir,” Commander Blenheim said, for of the remaining companions only she could speak the dwarf tongue.
“We are aware of the Kinshra,” the commander continued. “The council has ordered our soldiers to be ready, for Zamorak is stirring again.”
“Then you will go to the defence of Falador?” Kara asked hopefully.
He shook his head.
“There are some who would have us fight by your side. Others believe it would only endanger dwarf lives needlessly.”
“And what do you think, Commander Blenheim?” Kara asked as they entered a large chamber.
“If the Kinshra win, then they will turn their attentions to someone else-maybe Kandarin, maybe us, but do it they shall,” he answered. “And after that, it shall be someone else again” The dwarf warrior lowered his head. “Better to have an uneasy peace with Falador than deal with an ambitious enemy.”
He spoke loudly enough that the entire patrol could hear, and a grim cheer went up, showing their approval. Kara knew then that his men all agreed.
The dwarfs were ready for war. They just needed a leader.
The summons instilled rising curiosity in Ebenezer, and he rushed to the guildhall. A group of men had preceded him, and he was surprised to discover that one of them was Lord Tremene, a wealthy merchant who controlled the city’s bank and enjoyed good relations with the knights. By his side stood a young man of Theodore’s age, wearing a squire’s armour.
His inquisitive look prompted the armoured figure to speak up.
“I am Squire Marius, sir” the young man said. “Your actions at the monastery are known to me, and have been widely praised. In this dark hour, such initiative is to be commended.”
A silence fell and Marius looked uneasily at Lord Tremene, who in turn looked expectantly at Ebenezer.
The alchemist did not know what to say.
“Thank you” he stuttered finally.
“I am instructed to offer you command of the city militia, sir” Marius announced slowly, as if unsure of how to proceed. A murmur of approval rippled around the room.
“Then I accept, Squire Marius,” Ebenezer said. “How many men does the city militia have?”
Marius looked darkly at Lord Tremene, and his reply caused the alchemist’s heart to drop.
“None, sir, for it is a new organisation.” He turned to face Ebenezer. “It is to draw upon the average citizens of Falador to bolster our defences within the city. The population of Falador is usually forty thousand, but it has swelled to nearer twice that now the refugees from the north have taken shelter here. Therefore there is a large reserve of manpower upon which to draw.”
Ebenezer nodded, and shook off his concerns. This was an opportunity for him, and he was going to make the most of it. Indeed, the more he thought about it, the more he relished the challenge this presented. So he took a seat with the other men and began to pepper them with questions. When he was satisfied with the answers, he rose and shook hands with Marius and Tremene.
The room cleared then, save for Marius and an older man. When the door shut behind the merchants, the newcomer stepped forward and introduced himself.
“My name is Sir Tiffy Cashien, Master Alchemist.”
Ebenezer had seen him before, when he had returned from the monastery with his captive. Sir Tiffy had sat silently at Sir Amik’s side, listening to his account of his journey. He was obviously an important knight.
“We have a traitor in our midst, Master Alchemist,” explained Sir Tiffy. “We thought we had resolved the problem some time ago…”
Ebenezer held up his hand.
“This is not new to me, Sir Tiffy. On my journey north with Kara and Theodore I was entrusted with that knowledge, for it lay as a heavy burden between them. And the manner in which we were defeated this morning has indicated the possibility of further treachery.”
“That is one of the reasons why we wish you to take charge of the militia. You are a new face in Falador and already beyond reproach. People trust you and they have faith in your science.” Sir Tiffy looked briefly to Marius. “In fact, many may be more inclined to place their trust in science than in Saradomin.”
“And how can I be of help in locating this traitor?” Ebenezer asked.
“We are certain he is a high-ranking knight-one of only three possible candidates. He could be more dangerous to us than a thousand Kinshra outside the walls.”
Sir Tiffy rose and rested his fists on the table, leaning close to the alchemist.
“We cannot allow him to continue,” he said grimly. “We must uncover him while there is still time.”
“Then why not just lock all three up?” Ebenezer replied.
“These are senior knights!” came the reply. “The hopes of the people rest on my order. If word got out, then the citizens would abandon all hope. Their faith is already waning, but if they knew their betrayer was…”
He could not utter the words.
So Ebenezer finished his sentence for him.
“… If they knew it was one of you” he muttered in disapproval. “Then the knights would lose their trust, perhaps never to regain it.” The knights were risking everything, just to protect their reputation. Ebenezer wondered if they had deserved it in the first place.
But as he looked into the old knight’s eyes, he knew Sir Tiffy Cashien had a plan. Thus, with a resigned nod, he sat down at the table and listened.
As the dwarf commander led them on, the sounds of activity grew. Soon the rock caverns reverberated to the noise of hammers and picks, punctuated by the hiss of steam as smiths cooled their metal in ice-cold water taken from the underground streams.
“I was raised here,” Kara said wistfully, looking across the immense cavern that was as big as any room Theodore had ever seen. “Tell me, Commander Blenheim, how is Master Phyllis?”
The dwarf’s face darkened as he led them south through the cavern.
“Master Phyllis is old, Kara-Meir. He is too old to leave his bed. From what I have heard his illness has worsened.”
“I would like to see him,” she said, “for I owe him much.”
“You shall see him in good time, but first you must address the Council of Elders. We must make a decision.”
Though he could not understand what was being said, Theodore listened to their conversation with deep
