Return to Canifis

arms around him, her lithe body crushed against his in the press.

His mind went numb. He was aware of a thousand clapping spectators, of the trumpets that drowned them out, of Castimir, standing nearby under the canopy, shouting wildly.

He felt the tears tug at the corner of his eyes.

King Roald raised his hand, and the crowd fell quiet. Then he turned to the object of their celebration.

“I received a diplomatic missive from Sir Amik Varze, just yesterday,” he revealed, “asking me to elevate you as is my right as a close ally of your order. He offers you his congratulations, and bade me tell you that thanks in part to you, the Knights of Falador have renewed their numbers. Of course, you have yet to take the oath to Saradomin, but even I cannot ask that on behalf of your order. That is for Sir Amik himself to do when you next return home.”

The cheering resumed as the King sat. Kara let him go and he found himself thrust forward, hands landing on his shoulders, arms, and back in a happy torture for his bruised flesh. He saw Lady Anne appear before him, he felt her lips brush against his face in a brief kiss to which the crowd cheered, and then he was free once more, exhausted and elated.

“Well done, indeed, Sir Theodore,” William congratulated, having waited for the crowd to disperse before offering his compliments.

“Thank you very much, Lord William.” Theodore smiled to Father Lawrence as the priest made his way past, leading the young and nervous debutantes to be introduced to the King. The newly minted knight’s vision was still blurred from his emotion, and as he wiped the tears away he saw a woman with a red toque and high cheekbones walk quickly by, an unusual look upon her face. She wore a green gown.

Was that a look of fear? he wondered. Was she afraid of me?

Then Theodore’s world went cold.

Gods! I know her. She is the woman who insulted me on the square, who saw me last night when we found the body hanging from the roof. What is she doing here?

He stood, his heart racing.

King Roald. He might be in danger.

Theodore stumbled forward, pushing William out of his path. His action drew the attention of the guards and public alike.

“What are you doing?” William asked, the shove placing an expression of betrayal on his face. But Theodore ignored him and called out.

“Wait! My King, wait!”

The court went silent. No one moved.

“Speak, Sir Theodore,” King Roald ordered, an edge of anger in his voice.

At his side, Theodore saw how Kara’s hand tightened on her sword hilt.

“It is this woman, Sire.” He approached the woman in the green dress, and pointed. “You.” As he drew near he saw that she was panting heavily, as if panic was not far away.

“Ellamaria?” Father Lawrence queried. “What of her?”

“Why does she go alone around the city? For I have seen her there the last two evenings, under suspicious circumstances.”

His words caused a murmur to spread through the crowd. Two of Captain Rovin’s men appeared before the King, and two more, Theodore noted, appeared behind him.

“Is that a crime?” Ellamaria demanded, but her voice betrayed fear, and her lip was shaking. “No, the crime is that people are vanishing and being murdered. But is it a crime to ask why? Is it a crime to confront a conspiracy of silence, orchestrated by the very highest in the realm?” Her voice grew louder, and she wiped away tears. Suddenly she turned on Lord Despaard and pointed at him with a look of hatred. “You! You are the one! You are the one who takes people and paints the mark of the plague over their doors. I have seen you do it!”

“This woman is drunk, or mad,” Despaard shouted angrily. “Remove her!”

No one moved.

Someone in the crowd shouted in anger.

“She’s right,” they said. “It happened just last night!”

“And last week,” another cried. “An entire family, gone!”

In an instant the cries that had celebrated Theodore’s knighthood had turned to anger and fear. An apple disappeared into the royal box behind the King’s head, hurled from the bailey and striking the makeshift wooden structure with a loud thump.

Emboldened, Ellamaria shouted over the din, and those nearby stopped to listen.

“They are held at Draul Leptoc’s estate,” she said. “I have been there. I have seen it!”

“Saradomin forgive me,” Father Lawrence muttered, his head in his hands.

The crowd booed and yelled as other things were thrown. A tomato struck Theodore on his chest, leaving a red stain upon his white tunic, and a rock narrowly missed his head.

“The woman is right!” someone in the crowd yelled. “There is a plague upon this city!”

“The curse of Morytania is upon us. Our sins have doomed us all.”

“The true king is coming.”

Captain Rovin leaned down toward the King and spoke into his ear.

“Never!” the King replied angrily. “I will not order my archers to shoot on my own people.”

“Then confront them, my King” Kara said calmly. “Confront them and promise to hear their concerns. You must buy time.”

King Roald pursed his lips as he stood. He advanced to the wall’s edge and held his hand up. An apple core struck his golden crown.

But still he remained until no more missiles were thrown. Finally the crowd fell silent, and all eyes were upon him.

“I will hold a council,” he announced. “A parliament, as is the right of the covenant between the lords of Varrock and her peoples. Tomorrow morning we shall debate and decide what to do. Until then, this Midsummer Festival is ended.”

The crowd remained silent as the King spun and stalked along the northern wall back to the palace, many of the courtiers following in his wake.

They have tasted the barest power of the mob, Theodore realised. And they are afraid.

Lord Despaard remained behind, and he turned toward the source of the confrontation.

“Arrest her,” he instructed the guards nearest Ellamaria.

“On what charge?” she countered, but much of her confidence had fled.

“Treason,” he gritted. “Disrupting the public peace. Witchcraft. Any charge will do.” Two of the guards stepped up beside her and grasped her arms roughly. A little too roughly, Theodore thought.

As she was led away she cast a look back at him.

“I go to my prison knowing I have done right,” she said. “I will sleep well this night, Sir Theodore. But I wonder if you will do the same?”

And suddenly, his knighthood tasted slightly bitter.

8

“We haven’t time to send for Thessalia, with the dance only hours away, so we shall go to her. It really is most unladylike, but there is no time for an alternative.”

Surrounded by an escort of mounted guardsmen, Lady Anne led Kara through the palace at a swift walk to where a carriage was waiting.

“I have sent a messenger to tell her we are coming.” Suddenly, as she lifted her foot onto the step, she turned and looked at Kara with a frown. “Do you really need to bring your sword?”