At his age, it shouldn’t take too long. He’s got less than twenty years worth of them. I barely remember what I had for breakfast this morning.
“I know that look, alchemist,” Sally mused. “Have you had a thought?”
“Huh? No… no, nothing of any consequence.”
Reldo held the the paper down by one corner, spinning it round and round slowly with his free hand, peering at the symbols intently.
“What are you doing?” Lord William muttered. “I can’t concentrate if you kee-”
“I’ve got it!” Reldo shouted with sudden verve. “My god… I have got it!” He put his hands to his head and looked at Ebenezer in amazement.
“Good. Can you give it to us, please?” the alchemist asked.
“Paterdomus! That’s where I’ve seen them before. They were etched onto the altar of Saradomin, and that altar is the oldest part of the temple, I believe. I saw them when I prepared the blood-mark for the embassy.”
“Well, this is a definite link now,” Ebenezer said humbly. “Sally, I owe you an apology. You were right to pursue the birthmarks.” He bowed slightly and extended his hand. She took it with a grin and then rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him and crushing him in a hug.
“I love it when you are wrong,” she laughed, and the sound reminded him so much of Eloise, who had herself often said the very same thing.
“But I don’t understand what this actually means,” Lord William said. “So we have children disappearing who each have birthmarks over their hearts that resemble ancient symbols found at Paterdomus. But how does this help us?”
Ebenezer managed to free himself after an affectionate struggle.
“If the prophecy was true-and I think Reldo, that enough has happened to assume it must be-then whoever this ‘true King’ is, he will have to cross the Salve. These children were specifically sought by the Wyrd, and that they share a mark with the oldest and most sacred area of the temple must mean they are linked.
“How the mechanism occurs though, and what it actually does is something we are no closer to understanding. That is what we need to ascertain next.”
“How?” Lord William said drily.
“We must peruse the archives. We must examine every source to see if there is any mention of such a link, and find out what they mean. We must send word to the High Priest of Saradomin in Entrana, to see if he can enlighten us. We can overlook nothing. Nothing!”
“Then we will need Papelford’s cooperation,” Reldo said gloomily. “He has so many tomes in his collection that without them our task will be hamstrung from the very start.”
Ebenezer nodded.
“Very well, I shall seek an appointment with King Roald to inform him of all we know. It is now apparent that Felicity is far more important than we thought, and must be guarded by only the most able and trusted men-for that child alone has the one birthmark that remains in our possession.”
Thank the gods for you, Gar’rth! If you hadn’t led us to the Wyrd that night, then she would already be in their possession. Wherever you are, I thank you.
“So if she is taken by the Wyrd… or whatever is sent next…” Lord William whispered, polishing the silver fox with his anxious finger strokes.
“Then we must assume that the Salve goes with it, in some shape or form,” Ebenezer concluded, nodding. “She must be watched at all times. She must be kept alive and safe.”
The alchemist stood, feeling as tall as he was when he was a young man, pride swelling in his chest.
And this time, he didn’t fall or stumble, and no black dots came to plague his vision.
This time, he was right-they were right-and he knew it.
39
He watched the curve of Lady Caroline’s neck as she stood by the window, staring at the afternoon sun. His eye lingered on the shape of her body beneath the long green dress she wore.
“You are a rich woman, Lady Caroline?” Sulla asked as he reclined in his chair.
“My family are wealthy, Lord Sulla,” she said quietly.
She is afraid of me. She is wise, this one, wiser than that Lady Anne.
He held his wrists up for inspection. The crude prosthetics he now wore were bound to his stumps by leather straps that wrapped around his elbows. Now at least he could raise a glass without spilling half its contents over him. And he had bathed for long hours in a deep hot tub. After that he had been shaved and his hair had been cut.
Now-his face revealed in all its scarred horror-he felt more like the man he had once been.
“Are you to be married? Do you have a lover?”
I have seen the Silver Fox, and the way he looks at you-and you him. I am only blind in one eye.
“No… no, I haven’t,” she lied. “Please, you must not be so impertinent.”
Sulla laughed.
“Where is Lord William today, anyhow? I am missing his company. Our theological discussions on the church of Zamorak are nicely diverting while I await King Roald’s decision on my fate. Tell me, Lady Caroline, do you think I will hang?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
“But do you care?” He grinned wickedly as he raised the goblet to his lips. It wasn’t yet midday, and already he had drunk a whole bottle of red wine.
Nothing else to do in this gilded prison. No one to talk to but Lord William and that old man who makes a pain of himself. Idiot.
Lady Caroline made no answer as the door opened.
It was Captain Rovin, flanked by two guards.
You don’t need guards to deliver a message. This is looking far from good.
“Would you please leave us, Lady Caroline,” the hard-faced man ordered in the guise of a polite request. Sulla watched the demure woman nod, and he caught a look in her eyes that he didn’t like at all.
“At least they’ve cleaned you up a bit,” Captain Rovin said as she closed the door. “It’ll please the crowds more when you hang. Take him.”
What?
No!
“Wait, Captain. Wait! I know things-”
The two big guardsmen strode forward and took one arm each.
“I know things! Things that will help Varrock against Drakan! Wait!”
“Get him up,” Captain Rovin ordered. The two men heaved him to his feet. He made to speak again when one of them punched him hard in the stomach.
He doubled over, bile rising into his throat.
“Shut up, Sulla,” the other said. “Save your breath for your weeping on the scaffold.”
“You can’t hang me!” he choked, gasping for breath. “I’m of noble blood. A Lord of the Kinshra! I am no commoner.”
“No, Sulla. You are worse than any commoner. You’re an animal.” Captain Rovin nodded to the two men and suddenly he was pushed back into his seat.
They’re laughing. Laughing at me!
“But you are not going to hang-not today. I just thought I’d remind you of how close to the edge you stand. One false word or deed from you, and the King’s mercy will be withdrawn. Already he faces stern opposition for holding you. The Knights of Falador have sent an emissary to King Roald asking for your extradition, and I understand your own order are also demanding you be handed over. It would do you well to tread cautiously.”
“Then has King Roald accepted my proposal?” Sulla asked, slowly regaining his composure. “Am I to be granted asylum?”
“Not just yet. Jerrod remains at large, and we want him either dead or locked up.”
“But you need him! You need him for what he knows about Morytania. You see, Gar’rth won’t be coming back. I am certain of it. Jerrod is the only source you have available to give you accurate information about Drakan’s realm-and I am the only one who can tell you how you can bring him in.” It was Sulla’s turn to smile now. “Need I remind you that he did hack the head off the Wyrd?”