“An embassy is more than acceptable to us,” Albertus Black was saying. “And I am glad to know that Lord Despaard has volunteered to lead such a mission. But who else will go?”
A silence was left hanging after the old man’s question.
“I will go,” Kara said. “Gar’rth and I have shared many dangers. We have travelled through The Wilderness together. I will not abandon him now.”
But before he could protest, Doric spoke.
“Then I suppose we will both be going?” The dwarf said to Theodore.
“We will, if the King permits,” the knight replied. “Now that we are back together, I would not wish to split our company again.”
“And I will accompany them,” Arisha said. “As a priestess of the barbarian peoples seeking experience of the world, it seems right to do so, for an account of Morytania would be precious to my tribe.”
“Then I shall go also,” Castimir stared at Aubury as he spoke. The older man said nothing, but Gar’rth could sense the animosity between them. Finally, Aubury gave a slight nod.
“I will permit that,” the wizard said. “It is right that you should travel with your friends, although we have much to discuss before you leave.”
“My friends,” Gar’rth said loudly, “Please. You must not do this. Morytania is a… different land. I don’t want any of you to come.”
“If any wish to reconsider, then they may do so, now,” King Roald said.
“We are decided,” Kara said. “We are coming with you Gar’rth.”
“That is appropriate,” King Roald observed. “But who shall go for Varrock? Lord Despaard will lead the expedition-that is already decided. Such a mission must represent Misthalin as a whole. It is not one of war, and someone must go to administer the blood mark. Would you be willing to go Papelford, or would this task be more suited to your apprentice who can better undertake the journey to Paterdomus?”
“I am too old for such a journey, Sire,” Papelford said bitterly. At his side, Reldo smiled.
“I will go, my King,” the apprentice archivist said. “I will gather what books I need and accompany the embassy to Paterdomus.”
“That makes sense. But Reldo, this needs to be right. There can be no margin of error.” The King looked around the chamber. “Now, who else for Misthalin?”
Albertus Black gave the King a sideways look.
“I would go,” the old man said meekly. “I haven’t many years left to me-I don’t need to be a seer to know that. And as Ebenezer has yet to regain consciousness, I feel it my duty as his friend to fill his place. As many of you know I, too, am a scientist, and I have studied many things in my life, but the tales of the land beyond the river have intrigued me since I was young. I would dearly like to see how different it is to everything I know here.”
Despaard shook his head.
“Your motives are honourable, but you are too old for this expedition.”
“That is surely a fact in my favour?” Albertus replied. “As King Roald has said, this is not a military adventure. This is an embassy to petition Lord Drakan to withdraw his creature and to return those taken by her. And as an old man, I have less to lose than a young one, Lord Despaard. If I fall, then at best I have lost only a few short years that remain to me.”
King Roald nodded.
“I will accept your offer. Now, at least one other must go. Someone important at court but who can’t be threatening in any way…” The King leaned down to his guard and whispered in his ear.
But Gar’rth heard every word.
“Bring me the fool,” he said, and the guard departed.
Only when Gideon Gleeman appeared before them, attired in his black-and-red chequered shirt and leggings, did Gar’rth understand.
“I need your services, Gleeman,” the King said. “I need a man of importance at court to escort my royal seal. It can’t be a military man, for that is too confrontational, and this is a diplomatic mission. Will you go into Morytania with Lord Despaard and his expedition?”
The jester’s face paled.
“You want me to go to Morytania?” he replied. “Are you sure, Sire?”
The King nodded, and the jester’s eyes ran over the court.
“Usually I am the joker,” he muttered. “But I will go, if I am required, though I am neither strong nor brave, and the only sword I ever wielded was a wooden one.”
“Then it is settled,” Despaard said. “We will leave at the earliest opportunity, and will make for Lord Ruthven’s manor, halfway between here and Paterdomus, where we will attempt our crossing. I shall go and make our arrangements now.”
The council broke up, and Gar’rth suddenly found himself among his friends.
“You are foolish to come with me,” he said, trying in vain to hide his smile.
Grimly, he followed his friends from the throne room. As he passed through the doors a familiar and unwelcome sensation made him look over his shoulder. It was Simon, grinning horribly.
“I have been asked to accompany you,” Simon said. His hand was on his dagger, which was tightly sheathed. “For your own protection, of course.”
Gar’rth said nothing, and as he continued on, he was aware of Simon’s steps echoing his own.
15
Castimir left the throne room as quickly as he dared, knowing Aubury’s eyes were on his back.
He ascended the grand staircase in the company of his friends, for they all had much to do before the embassy departed.
Ebenezer was still in his bed when they entered the room. Sally was sat beside him, her face drawn and tired.
“He hasn’t stirred at all since you left him this morning,” she said to Arisha, who put her hand on the old man’s shoulder and closed her eyes in concentration. For a moment she remained still, yet very quickly she pursed her lips and gave a sigh.
“I am sorry,” she said. “Guthix is unyielding. He refuses to help.”
Castimir nodded and turned his head aside, eager not to add his own disappointment to the frustrated gazes of his friends.
“Do not blame yourself-Father Lawrence says the same of Saradomin, Arisha,” Sally replied. “You have done all you can. Now it is up to Ebenezer.”
“Where is Father Lawrence?” Kara asked quietly, looking at the old man’s ashen face.
“Sir Prysin’s heir is near death,” Sally told them. “He was grievously wounded in the lists at the festival. His father has demanded that a priest of Saradomin attend him, as is his right.”
“Then it must be up to you to care for our friend, Sally,” Theodore told her gently. “We are all to go with Lord Despaard on an embassy to Morytania. We leave very soon, probably today.”
Sally gasped in surprise.
“All of you?”
“Albertus also, Sally,” Arisha confided. “I am sorry.”
The small woman looked in danger of choking on her disbelief.
“Albertus? Into Morytania?” The words died in her throat when she saw the serious looks of the companions. After a moment, Castimir turned his attention back to the alchemist on the bed.
“Perhaps it would be best if we each wrote him a note, for when he wakes,” he suggested. “I shall write one
