Betrayal at Falador

I cannot allow him to leave, he thought silently. Not yet. In his hands he held several of the magical runes and his mind raced as he attempted to summon the power that he had turned his back upon so long ago.

But he felt only the faintest connection.

Not enough, he knew. Not nearly enough.

“Falador will not end today, Finistere” Ebenezer said. “The city might burn and its citizens might flee, but it will continue nonetheless. It will endure a simple battle and an assault from a host of misguided men. History has proved that our race is not so easily brought low-not even the gods in the time of their wars could do it, and you shall not do it either. Even if you did triumph today and sack the city, in a few generations it will be only a footnote in the history of Falador. It will be but a dark hour measured against long years of light, and your name will not be remembered in any book or by any man.”

Finistere ignored the alchemist.

“And how did I know about the lure of the gold? I have many spies in the city. They told me Sir Erical had received an important order from a messenger, and I proceeded to find out the details. It was not hard when I was living on the same corridor at the almshouse.”

As the traitor turned to leave, he added a last mocking comment.

“To think I had to risk everything because of a mere woodcutter’s daughter,” he said. “It is an amusing thought now the game has ended!”

The words stirred Sir Tiffy.

“Why do you call Kara a woodcutter’s daughter? All our stories were based around the probability that she was Justrain’s daughter, and he never mentioned being a woodcutter in any of his reports.”

The words seemed to catch the traitor by surprise, and he thought for a moment, then a new light appeared in his eyes.

“I see it all now.” He spoke with the voice of a man savouring the ultimate victory. “You deliberately endangered her life in an effort to make me act.”

He laughed, delighted by the knowledge of how desperate his enemies had been to find him.

“But Justrain is Kara’s father, for he did pose as a woodcutter. I know this because the Kinshra informed me that their agents had intercepted a letter from a village woodcutter who matched Justrain’s description.” He waited for a moment to allow them to comprehend what he had said. “And when I signed my reply, I signed his death warrant and orphaned Kara, as well.”

“So it was you who killed Bryant?” Sir Tiffy asked. “And Sir Balladish?”

“It was. I added several requests to Sir Balladish’s list before it was sent to the apothecary-he did not know the exact details, but it is a routine we had established over many years in the almshouse. I made certain I was available in the courtyard to await Bryant’s return, intending to destroy the list and remove my items before anyone knew exactly what I had ordered.

“But the apothecary had told Bryant of the possibility of using the herbs for poison, and the peon told me so. I knew that if Kara died from my potion, then Bryant would be suspicious. Therefore he had to die. Sir Balladish trailed me to Dagger Alley, however, confronting me after I slew Bryant. I do not know why he suspected me, but he died before he could make his suspicions known.”

Again Finistere turned to leave.

“I have heard everything I n-needed to hear,” a voice stuttered in grief from the entrance of the cellar. “And still I feel no triumph.”

It was a voice every one of them knew. It was Sir Pallas.

With a grim look on his face, the old knight of the almshouse stood before the traitor, his unsteady hand holding a sword.

Sulla wiped the sods of earth from his face. He had been thrown from his saddle by the force of the explosion that had destroyed his camp.

“Someone must have lit the black powder!” Jerrod roared angrily as men and horses attempted to recover. “I can smell it!”

Nearby, the messenger groaned.

“The black powder is lost to us now. Soon our guns will exhaust their current supplies and they will be entirely useless,” Sulla said grimly. “This is a failure that cannot go unpunished, and as you are the only survivor of those who failed me.”

He nodded to Jerrod, who stood over the messenger. The werewolf reached toward his throat before the man could defend himself. The messenger gave a brief cry before he died.

Sulla did not even bother to look, for he knew he had to rally his men.

“We must abandon the cannons,” he said. “We cannot get to them in time now. We must concentrate on the knights first, for they are exhausted. Then we will turn our attention to her!”

He clenched his fists at the thought of the girl who had dared to interfere with his plans so many times, and he promised himself that-one way or another-it would not happen again.

SIXTY-NINE

Kara rode at the head of her army, which marched in a line. Under Theodore’s direction, the cavalry remained hidden behind the burning encampment.

They had travelled south via ways unknown to any Kinshra patrol, under the earth, following Commander Blenheim. When they had come suddenly upon the enemy, they caught them totally by surprise.

Upon taking the camp, she had written her message to Sulla on his own paper and sealed it with his own crest, knowing it would enrage him. Then she had ordered everything else to be burned.

“Now is your hour, Kara! Now is the hour in which you will recognise your own power and take up my offer!”

The voice was one she had heard twice before. His audacity is growing, she mused. Before his words had made her fearful, but this time she was unmoved. Without even bothering to look at the ghoulish hunchbacked figure cloaked in red, she replied.

“So you have come to me again, Emissary, as you said you would.” Her voice was calm. “Have your say, for there are more pressing things I must do.”

“The way of the warrior is not the way of Saradomin, my dear,” he said seductively. “I am offering you a place as commander of Zamorak’s armies. Will you accept?” The High Emissary stepped toward her and held out his hand.

Kara looked at him for the first time.

“I have made my choice, Emissary. I will never follow your teachings. Nor will I follow Saradomin. I have suffered much at the hands of his followers, but I have suffered worst from your own. For me, the way is that of Guthix, the god of balance who exists in all things.”

The figure stared at her for long moments before responding.

“Very well, Kara-Meir. If you survive this day, then I am certain we shall meet again.” He turned his head at the sound of a horse galloping toward them. When his eyes settled upon Theodore he smiled evilly. “Know also that you have upset the balance. The Kinshra upset it first by marching on Falador and defeating the knights, but your refusal of my offer has made the pendulum swing yet again. This time the balance is too far toward the light. A sacrifice shall have to be made.”

Before she could reply the High Emissary had vanished and Theodore was at her side. The Emissary’s threat had found the one gap in her armour. Kara was not overly concerned for herself, but her friends were a different matter altogether.

“The cavalry is deployed as you instructed and the men are ready” the squire reported.

“Theodore” she said, as if she was seeing him for the first time in days. “I must tell you something, Theodore, before we go into battle.” For a second she avoided his stare. “I just wanted to thank you for all you have done for me, in case I do not get another opportunity.” She swallowed hard as she gathered her thoughts.