“It looks more expensive than your previous garment,” Theodore observed. “When last I saw you, you had been asked to find a way to drain the moat around the castle and retrieve the valuables the people had cast into the waters, in the effort to prevent the invaders from claiming them. Has this made you a rich man?”
“It has,” Ebenezer confessed. “And in the process, my reputation as an alchemist has reached new heights. After the fighting was over and the repairs begun, Sir Amik granted me the resources to construct just the thing that was needed to complete the task. Crowds gathered to see the monstrosity that my friends and I had built.”
Doric shook his head.
“You should have seen their faces, Theodore!” the dwarf said. “When Ebenezer lit the fires and fed the boiler with coal and wood, and the beam at the top began to rock on its fulcrum, powering the pump. The citizens were amazed. The steam engine drew nearly ten gallons of water from the moat each minute. It must have been the first time in its history that it was drained, for a great many objects were recovered that didn’t match any descriptions offered by the citizens.”
“And my work was well rewarded,” Ebenezer said. He gave a satisfied smile and returned his pipe to his mouth, exchanging a knowing glance with his travelling companion.
“And what of you Doric?” Theodore asked.
“I remained in Falador for nearly two months, helping the dwarfs under Commander Blenheim strengthen the walls and open the mining guild, and I also pursued my claim against those who burned my cabin. The magistrates ruled in my favour, and the guilty were ordered to help rebuild what they had destroyed.”
The old dwarf stirred his feet in the steaming tub.
“That was enough for me, for I was not looking for revenge. And those who had done the damage admitted their ignorance and offered me their assistance and their friendship, both of which I accepted.” He looked furtively to Ebenezer. “And I have done something else, something which has taken me some time and no small expense. Something which will be a gift to my friends.”
With that, Doric yawned.
“Well?” Theodore prompted.
The dwarf gave a low laugh.
“All in good time,” he said. “When we are
“Very well Doric, you may keep your secrets,” Theodore said. “William has had rooms prepared for you both, here in the palace. All your needs will be met during your stay, for as companions to Kara-Meir you are honoured guests.”
The alchemist and the dwarf exchanged wary looks.
“Have you had any news of Kara?” Doric asked.
Theodore lowered his gaze to the floor.
“Apparently she is here, in Varrock,” he answered, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. “But Gar’rth and Arisha are not.”
Ebenezer took the pipe from his mouth. Doric frowned in worry.
“They went into The Wilderness together,” Theodore continued angrily. “It might be that only Kara returned. And she has refused to see me.”
For a time no one spoke. Both of Theodore’s friends knew how he felt about Kara, and how hurt he must have been by her refusal.
Doric lifted his feet from the tub, water splashing onto the flagstones. He was about to speak when a commotion sounded outside in the passageway, of men running and giving commands in anxious tones.
Suddenly William burst into the room.
“There’s been a killing, Theodore!” he shouted. “They are no longer just rumours-the creature has entered the city!”
Theodore rode hard to the south of the city, to where the poorer inhabitants dwelt. Doric clung to his waist with his eyes shut, yet the mare easily outpaced William’s gelding. Even Ebenezer-had he decided to accompany them from the palace-could have outpaced the young nobleman on his horse.
Thoughts of his friend evaporated as he saw a crowd gathered before him in the darkened street. Some held lanterns, and in the light he saw Lord Despaard and his black-clad men, already present. The yellow-cloaked city guard helped them in keeping order. He also saw Father Lawrence, the old priest at the head of the crowd, his four-pointed silver star held before him as he invoked Saradomin’s mercy.
As Theodore reined his mare in and dismounted he saw the anxious looks of the citizens. One was vomiting into the gutter.
The crowd surrounded a merchant’s house that had seen more prosperous times. Following their gaze, Theodore looked up and saw that upon the slanted lead roof lay a dead body-that of a man whose collar was wrapped about an iron peg that held the tiles in place, his feet hanging over the edge into empty space.
And down the side of the house’s grey wall ran a red streak.
Theodore himself felt suddenly nauseous. He had been in battle before this, and had seen all the horrors of men mutilated and dying, but this was different somehow.
“But how did it get up there?” a man cried out. “How was this done?”
“This is nothing human!” someone else added.
Instantly the crowd bristled with a collective anger. Quickly, Lord Despaard’s men took up discreet positions, preparing to subdue the mob should it turn violent.
Lights shone from the opposite rooftop, illuminating the corpse.
All eyes were fixed upon the hideous sight. The man’s throat had been torn out, and his abdomen-revealed to the onlookers through his torn shirt-had been viciously clawed.
“Gods! All that blood,” William moaned from Theodore’s side, having left his horse with the squire’s mare. The noble staggered on his feet, unable to take his eyes off the red streak that seemed so similar to an arrow on the dirty grey stone.
“I’ve got you, William,” Theodore said, reaching out as his friend swayed. Doric assisted him.
“Here, have some of this, lad,” he said, offering William his hip flask. “It’s stronger than water but it’ll do the trick.” The dwarf peered again at the rooftop. “And when you’re done, pass it back. Think I’ll need some too.” William nodded as he took a generous swig before coughing violently.
“Look to the left of him-look!” someone shouted. “There’s writing!”
The lanterns above shifted to follow the anonymous instruction.
And there it was. Written in the man’s blood.
“What does it say? What does it say?” cried an onlooker.
“Pay it no mind,” Lord Despaard shouted in reply. “It is designed to cause fear in all of us, and we cannot allow it to do so.” His words silenced the crowd, but then someone spoke up again, his voice heard by all.
“It says, ‘I am coming.’”
Pandemonium erupted as everyone spoke at once, every other person asking his neighbour what such a message could mean. Some wailed in fear, others cursed loudly. Theodore, seeing William regain his calm, moved away quickly and approached Lord Despaard.
“We can’t conceal this, Lord Despaard,” he said. “This
“Just you remember your promise to me, boy,” the man in black replied angrily. “This is my business, and has been since before you were born. Now go back to the palace and enjoy a dance with a pretty girl, or a glass of wine-I care not. But keep the silence, or so help me I will have you returned to Falador in chains!” Hearing the exchange, Father Lawrence stepped up.
“You must do as he says, Theodore,” the priest said. “As must I. There is a survivor, a child, a witness in fact.” The old man lowered his voice. “I will take her to the others, and care for her as best I can with my meagre skills.” He hastened off toward a group of black-cloaked soldiers stood in a loose circle. Meanwhile, Lord Despaard’s eyes never left Theodore.
