Return to Canifis

had the sensation of falling from a great height, and when he landed a cold numbness spread from his thigh, and something wet blinded his right eye.

But he felt no pain as the darkness descended.

After all, we have tomorrow Gar’rth. We all have tomorrow to talk.

Then everything will be made right.

Tomorrow.

11

Castimir saw Ebenezer collapse as he readied his runes. He knew he only had one chance.

“By the gods,” King Roald cried out from in front of him. “Gar’rth! He’s not human.”

Gar’rth’s face had changed entirely. His jaw had distended horribly, his nose had flattened and was now wide across his face in a wolfish snout. His shoulders, too, had become wider and black hair covered the backs of his suddenly long hands that now resembled paws.

“He’s one of them, Sire!” Captain Rovin shouted. “He’s a werewolf.”

Castimir saw the devastating effect of the captain’s cry on men already afraid. Lord Despaard leapt in front of the King with his two-pronged dagger held before him as the guards dropped back, leaving the two creatures to their fight. Only Captain Rovin remained in front, yet even he was stunned into hesitation.

The Wyrd tore at Gar’rth’s head as the youth continued his change.

He can’t protect himself. He will be killed unless I act.

“He’s not the enemy,” Castimir yelled. “It’s her-stand aside!”

But his words were lost in the din as Lord Despaard advanced and brandished the dagger toward both combatants, now locked in a deadly embrace.

Suddenly Gar’rth stumbled as Despaard neared. His grip on the Wyrd slackened and she shook him off.

“The dagger!” Gar’rth roared in Despaard’s face as the Wyrd turned to confront the two men. Castimir heard Doric shout. The dwarf bowled into Despaard and hurled him off his feet, propelling the nobleman away from Gar’rth, the two-pronged dagger still clutched in his hand.

“Majesty, you must listen to me,” Castimir shouted. “Gar’rth is not the enemy!”

Taking advantage of the chaos, the Wyrd jumped to the window, but before she could launch herself into space a renewed Gar’rth grabbed her right wing. She attempted to fight him off, but the werewolf was stronger. His knee crashed against her spine, and at the same time he pulled her wing back and grabbed her around the neck with his other arm, forcing her down.

You’ve got her Gar’rth!

“Sire,” Castimir cried. “We can take her alive.”

Either Rovin hadn’t heard through his tortured ears that were still dripping blood, or he didn’t care. The captain staggered forward and drew his arm back, in preparation for a lunge.

No… No!

Only too late did Gar’rth perceive his presence, yet whether Rovin was aiming for the werewolf or the Wyrd, Castimir couldn’t say. The man’s desperate thrust missed the werewolf by a finger’s width alone, yet it forced Gar’rth to relinquish his hold on the Wyrd who batted him free and leapt back to the window before launching herself through the shattered glass and out into the darkness.

Now all eyes turned to Gar’rth. From every side, the men of King Roald’s guard closed in. Castimir saw now that Despaard was free of Doric, and the dwarf was being held back by two men.

“You are an enemy of our realm,” Despaard said as he advanced, the dagger held before him. “Your kind have only one fate this side of the river.”

Gar’rth knelt, suddenly a pitiful sight. He hid his face under a paw and when he looked up again it was more human than before. It seemed to Castimir that the dagger was somehow countering his friend’s lycanthropy.

“Consider this a mercy,” Rovin grunted as he stepped forward and raised his sword above his head.

No. I will not allow this. I am a wizard of the Tower and I still have a spell or two left. Castimir breathed calmly and concentrated on the man’s sword. The runes melted in his hand.

Suddenly Rovin screamed and dropped his weapon. As it landed the hilt hissed, and glowed red hot.

“You protect him, wizard?” Despaard demanded. “A werewolf?” Rovin stared at his burned hand, aghast, then peered at Castimir with utter hatred in his eyes before fleeing from the room. Now the guards fell back, and Castimir could see their uncertainty.

Fighting a werewolf is one thing, but will they dare turn on a wizard? Be strong. Call their bluff.

“I do,” Castimir replied. He stepped forward and made his way to Gar’rth’s side, saying a silent prayer as the guards stood back to let him through. “And I will do so again if I must. Gar’rth is my friend who fled his homeland. He is not like others of his race, and has proved that many times.”

It was King Roald who responded.

“You have lied to us! You and your friends,” he spat angrily. “How dare you knowingly bring such a creature into my realm. He is evil.”

“No, he is not, Sire,” Doric said. The guards let the dwarf go and slowly he made his way to Ebenezer’s side. “And we must all remember that it is thanks to him that we managed to confront this Wyrd tonight, saving a child. We might have captured her, too, if the prejudice of your lords hadn’t blinded them.”

Castimir stood in front of Gar’rth now, relieved to see his humanity return. Still, he saw how weak his friend was, how the sweat poured off his skin, and how he shivered.

“Ebenezer?” Gar’rth whispered.

“He lives, but he needs a doctor,” Doric said, kneeling next to the fallen man. He turned to face the monarch. “And now King Roald, you must decide what to do. Will you truly murder Gar’rth, the man who came so close to giving you the Wyrd? To do so, you will have to go through me.”

“He is no man!” Despaard spat.

Theodore appeared at the doorway, his sword drawn. Behind him came Kara, armed only with her hunting knife, her face wild, and Castimir saw the wizard Aubury at the front of several guards. At the very back stood Arisha, holding the rescued baby in her arms.

There is no way I can fight them now. No way at all. The young wizard turned to face the King again.

“Just grant him time, your majesty, please…” he begged. “As Doric said, he nearly captured the Wyrd tonight, coming as close as any in your realm have come. Surely, surely that must weigh in his favour.”

King Roald turned and looked into Gar’rth’s eyes for a long moment. Then he spoke.

“His fate is yet to be decided,” he said. “But I will not kill him tonight, nor will anyone in my service, for what you say is true. But he will be imprisoned until a decision is made.”

“And what of the wizard, Sire?” Despaard demanded, sheathing his sword as if to give his words emphasis. “He threatened us, and injured Captain Rovin.”

Castimir felt Aubury’s eyes upon him. He could feel his anger.

Surely he will understand. I acted in the best traditions of the Tower, for truth and honour.

The guards placed Ebenezer onto a litter and lifted him carefully. Doric remained at his side.

“Take the alchemist to his room,” King Roald instructed. “And get Father Lawrence to have a look at him. As for the wizard, Captain Rovin has endured far worse injuries in the course of his duties. It is a case best left to Aubury and the Tower.”

Castimir saw Aubury bow to the monarch, then turn to stare icily at him as the guards carried Ebenezer from the room, followed by the dwarf.

“Yes, majesty,” Aubury agreed. “That would perhaps be best. I will consult with the Tower, but first I would speak with Castimir myself.”