Jerrod smiled to himself, wondering what Sulla would say if he knew.
In the bowels of the Kinshra fortress an officer opened a wooden door without knocking.
“Who dares to enter my chamber?” the sybil cried.
“I have orders from Lord Daquarius, the new lord of the Kinshra. Your meddling led us into disaster. He has decided it would be best if you are no longer associated with our cause.”
The officer nodded to the two men behind him. They strode forward and seized the old woman. The officer removed the lid of the huge cauldron that stood on an unlit fire at the centre of the room. A greenish liquid stirred inside and with a grimace the man nodded toward it. The two men heaved the sybil into the sickly potion. Before she could clamber out, the heavy lid was replaced, the men fastening it so that only a small gap remained.
A withered old hand, responsible for so much evil, forced its way through, trying in vain to lift the lid.
“Light the fire” the officer said flatly. “Call me when the water begins to boil.”
The two soldiers grinned, kneeling to begin their grisly work. They ignored the sybil’s threats of revenge as well as her pleas for mercy.
Soon the fire began to rage. The waters began to bubble. And the sybil began to scream.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
It was late. The fire burned in the hearth in the upstairs room of The Rising Sun. They sat around a large table, each deep in thought, no one willing to break the peaceful silence.
Finally the alchemist spoke, gazing into the wispy smoke of his pipe.
“So we are decided then. Each of us has made their choice. Each of us shall go their separate way over the next few months, and meet in Varrock in time for Midsummer’s Eve.”
Doric looked thoughtfully at his unfinished meal.
“I shall go and rebuild my house. The magistrate in Falador has looked favourably on my case. But first, I must act as a diplomat for the dwarf request to open the seams beneath the city. Sir Amik will give my people their mining guild in the northeast of Falador.”
“And I shall go to the Wizards’ Tower,” Castimir said unhappily. “My wanderings are at their end and I must demonstrate what I have learned.”
“But you have Master Segainus’s spell books. Surely that is no small prize?” Ebenezer asked.
Castimir looked sly.
“Yes. That is a fortunate privilege. His years of experience are recorded in his books. It is knowledge I am fearful to learn, for I know my superiors would not approve of someone of my age delving into such mysteries.”
“Whenever has that stopped you before, Castimir?” Kara asked playfully.
The young wizard smiled, but still his eyes revealed concern. His friends knew immediately that he had already explored the pages of Master Segainus’s books.
“Knowledge can be a dangerous thing” Ebenezer said. “The Kinshra used it to create their guns, and some men attempt to find the answer to eternal life. But it need not always be so-great and good things can be done by those strong enough to wield knowledge properly.”
“As you have demonstrated time and again to our benefit,” Castimir said with a nod to his old friend. “Maybe I am too young for such secrets. Maybe I should wait. I shall also write to Arisha.”
Theodore glanced at Castimir with a smile.
The wizard looked bashfully away.
“She still has my belongings and my yak,” he muttered.
It was Kara who spoke next.
“I shall go to the monastery and help rebuild it. I shall spend time with Abbot Langley and search among any of their records that may have survived. Hopefully, I shall find some information about my father and I would especially like to know my mother’s name. I may also seek out my village, and place a marker where my parents died.”
She knew what her friends were thinking.
“I am no longer looking for vengeance” she added. “The Kinshra will punish Sulla enough.”
Ebenezer lowered his pipe and spoke next.
“I shall remain here. Lord Tremene and the city authorities have asked for my help in draining the moat around the castle. Falador’s wealthier citizens want to retrieve the riches that they so hastily threw away in their madness. I shall need to send a message to some of my scientific friends in Varrock, for I need equipment that isn’t available here.”
The alchemist smiled cunningly.
“The work is going to make me a wealthy man. I have a handsome commission, so it is a job that is worth the labour.”
The companions laughed at his acumen.
“I shall be going to Varrock” Theodore said. “And I will take your message, if it can wait for a few days. Sir Amik needs new recruits for the knights and he wants me to take advantage of my fame and act as a recruiting sergeant. Our losses were so great that we shall admit entrants who are older than usual, and Sir Amik has told me that they will cut a year off the training time in order to bolster our ranks quicker.
“And he has told me something else…” Theodore looked to his friends as if they were all part of a dark conspiracy. “I am to be made a knight on my return. In only a few more months, before the summer comes. So, too, is Marius.”
Castimir stood and started clapping, and so did Kara, and then Ebenezer and Doric, followed by Gar’rth, who knew just enough words now to understand what was said.
“Congratulations, Theo!” Castimir said. “Everything you have worked so hard for is realised.” The wizard’s eyes filled with happy tears for his childhood friend.
But there was one amongst them who hadn’t spoken. Gar’rth walked to the window after the friends had finished congratulating Theodore.
“And what shall you do, Gar’rth?” Theodore asked, looking at the sudden bitter expression on the youth’s face as he stared out of the rain-battered pane and over the city.
“Jerrod lives,” he said.
They had searched for the werewolf’s body amongst the dead of the battlefield-the soldiers had been told to look out specifically for a man with black blood-but no corpse had been found. Gar’rth had later caught his scent and had followed it for a day, first south and then east and north across the open countryside. It seemed likely that Jerrod had joined the Kinshra retreat.
He had told them of his wish to hunt his uncle down.
“He will not stop,” he said. “So I must go to him.” He had carefully rehearsed the words with Kara, and she knew that he was right, for Jerrod would one day return.
“Gar’rth will accompany me to the monastery,” she added abruptly, her eyes resting on Theodore as he averted his gaze. Everyone was aware of the tension that still existed between them.
The alchemist raised his mug of ale briskly, diverting their attention as he stood.
“My youthful friends,” he said. “And you also, Doric, if you so wish…” His voice was suddenly serious. “I will soon be a wealthy man, with more money than I can ever spend in my declining years. My children died of smallpox in their infancy and my wife died in childbirth many years ago. I have no family left. No one to care for me when my wits abandon me.” He gave Castimir a sidelong glance, as if expecting the wizard to make a joke.
“Therefore, I wish to adopt each of you as my heirs, for we have braved so much together that it is only right.”
Doric grumbled and got to his feet. “I am older than you, Ebenezer, and I am wealthy in my own right. I thank you for the consideration but this gift is best suited for the young.”
The alchemist nodded and raised his ale again.
“So be it,” he said. “To friends! And to family!”
And amongst them the woodcutter’s daughter raised her drink, knowing suddenly that she had found what she had always truly sought, though she had masked it for years under the veil of anger and revenge.