Return to Canifis

“There is one more thing, Sire,” Kara said. All eyes turned to her. “Pia and Jack have vanished from my room tonight. They took my sword, and left a severed rope on my bed. I think I know why they have run, but I would like them brought back alive and unharmed.”

A guard knelt at King Roald’s feet and deftly picked up the fallen crown. The monarch took it with a sigh.

“It is a heavy crown, this,” he said, and the anger was gone from his voice. “The wearer must wield a conscience as cold as the gold it is made from, at times.” He stared at Kara wearily. “My men will be combing every street and alley of Varrock tonight, searching for the Wyrd. I will instruct them to do as you ask, to find your wayward servants. But know this-I cannot forget that you and your friends brought Gar’rth into my realm, knowing what he is. You saw fit to keep the truth from me, and it is a capital offence.”

His sword sheathed, Theodore approached Gar’rth, who still crouched, and helped him to his feet, letting Gar’rth lean on him.

“How do you feel?”

“It’s the poison,” Gar’rth answered, his voice little more than a croak. “It burns, but I will live.” Nodding, the knight turned to face the King.

“I can vouch for him, my liege,” Theodore said. “I thought as you do when I first met him and discovered his heritage. But I was wrong. And to demonstrate my faith in my friend, I will spend the night in his company, locked up with him.”

King Roald stared hard at Theodore.

“Very well,” he replied. “As you wish.”

“Thank you, Theodore,” Gar’rth murmured as the knight led him toward the door. “Thank you.” As they passed, Gar’rth turned to Castimir. “And thank you, Castimir. Thank you for your faith in me.” The further he moved from the two-pointed blade, the stronger his voice became.

Castimir nodded and made to follow, but Aubury stopped him. The King left the room, followed by the rest. It was only when they were alone-save for the dead-that Aubury did speak.

“You fool, Castimir,” he spat angrily. “Have you any idea of what you have done? You threatened a King of Misthalin and his lords! Do you have any idea, any idea at all, of what that will mean for your future?”

Aubury wiped a hand across his brow as Castimir felt the blood rush to his face.

“I protected a friend,” he protested. “A man who has fought at my side, and who needed help. What’s wrong with that?”

Aubury laughed in surprise as Castimir felt his eyes water.

“You are more foolish than I had imagined,” he responded. “If you think that will help you. You threatened the monarch of a powerful realm, and on whose support our order depends. It is politics we play at now, Castimir, and very rarely magic.

“I will consult with the Wizards’ Tower tonight,” he continued. “But you should prepare yourself. It may be that your days of wearing the blue robes are finished even as they have begun.”

Castimir felt as if he had been stabbed. His heart ached, and he lowered his head to hide his tears.

It is not fair!

“Go and get some sleep, Castimir,” Aubury said. “We will talk of this tomorrow, after King Roald’s parliament.”

12

Theodore supported Gar’rth as they left the room. His friend’s inhuman strength had left him, and Gar’rth felt like a ragged doll on Theodore’s arm. Several guardsmen accompanied them, though they held back, despite the fact that the werewolf was now too weak to walk unaided.

“You must try to walk,” Theodore said as Gar’rth winced from the battering his body had taken in the melee. “You cannot lean on me all the way.”

Gar’rth tried to stand unaided, but his legs shook violently, and Theodore caught him before he fell.

“I’m sorry, Theodore,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “It is the… blade. It is nearby, and its effects weaken me even now.”

They reached the top of the stairs, where more guards awaited them, and descended with an escort in front and behind. Their progress was even more difficult on the steps. Theodore motioned to one of the guardsmen.

“You there, will you help me?”

“No, Sir Theodore,” the man said, his sword half-drawn. “We would help you, of course, but not your… friend. Not one of them.”

Before Theodore could respond, Gar’rth staggered, and he nearly lost his grasp, forcing the group to stop.

“Wait a moment,” Theodore said as struggled to regain his balance. “Let us pause here while you get your strength back.”

Gar’rth sat on the step as the guards waited. Above them, Theodore saw Lord Despaard, standing at the doorway, looking down impassively. He drew back his cloak and Theodore saw he held a two-pronged dagger at his side.

“I cannot smell anything, Theodore,” Gar’rth muttered, his hands over his face. “And my hearing… there’s a rushing, and everything is so faint.”

“Get used to it,” Lord Despaard advised. “I know how vulnerable that must make one of your kind feel. To us, it would be like losing our sight. But you should use this occasion to know that men are not so weak as you might have thought, nor without weapons against the savagery of your race.” The nobleman took a step down toward them. Theodore saw the cold anger etched on his face.

“You should fear us Gar’rth,” he continued. “It must be a new experience for you.”

“Leave him be, Lord Despaard,” Theodore said, striving to keep his voice calm and without anger. “You have misjudged him. In time, he will prove himself. I guarantee it.”

Lord Despaard smiled grimly and gave a snort.

“It is you who have misjudged him, knight. I don’t doubt that now he is as you say. But it cannot always be so. One day-perhaps soon-he will change. It is his heritage.”

The nobleman descended until he stood only an inch from Theodore’s face. Gar’rth folded in on himself as the blade came closer. Despaard spoke in a harsh whisper.

“And when he does show his true nature-as he will-who do you think he will go for? Castimir, with his sorcery? You, with your strength and armour? No. It will be Kara. You know it, and he knows you know it. They are animals Theodore, and it would take a blind man not to see how he feels about her.” He gave Gar’rth a quick look. “It is a feeling that can never be reciprocated, and his frustration will have only one possible outcome. In time, he will turn on her.”

Theodore shook his head, but couldn’t bring himself to answer.

For it would be a lie if I told him I had never had similar thoughts.

Despaard stepped past them and descended the staircase until he was lost to sight.

Finally, Gar’rth took a deep breath and stood, his legs swaying- but less so.

“Could you hear what he said, Gar’rth?” Theodore whispered.

“No,” Gar’rth said wearily. “But I think I can walk now.”

Theodore instructed his friend to grip his shoulder for support. They went quicker than before, for Gar’rth’s steps were surer and more purposeful now. Despite their progress, however, it seemed like an eternity before they were in the palace’s dungeons. The only light came from a torch carried by one of the guards, and each barred alcove was too dark for any occupants to be seen. Lord Despaard waited for them at the open gate to a cell. Inside, guards had quickly arranged two rudimentary beds and had left a large jug of water for each of them. Otherwise, it was a bleak stone chamber.

As Gar’rth sat down, a guard placed an iron cuff around his wrist, attached to a chain that was anchored to the wall. Then the torch was placed in a sconce. Opposite, in a similar cell, Theodore saw the woman who had