Theodore stared at him in amazement.
“Would they not understand?” he asked finally. “Morytania has plagued your realm for centuries. Surely this is just the latest in a long line of horror that you have had to deal with from Lord Drakan?”
Father Lawrence laughed bitterly.
“What do you know of the High Priest of Entrana, Theodore-of the man known as Leo the Fifth?”
The squire was silent for a moment before he replied.
“Leo was the High Priest of Saradomin a century ago,” he said. “Famous for his prophecies…”
“Aha! Let me stop you there,” the priest said, holding up a hand. “Yes, exactly. He was famous for his prophecies, and that is the problem. Do you know what his final prophecy was?”
Theodore shook his head. He had little faith in prophecies, preferring to focus his attention on tasks he could perform with his own two hands-aiding the poor and hungry, defending Asgarnia from those who would do it harm, and opposing the followers of Zamorak. Living his life to be an example to others. In his experience, prophecies rarely came true, and were the work of charlatans.
Father Lawrence spoke again.
“It goes something like this,” he said. “Five score shall pass and a creature of death shall haunt the land, and in its wake, the true King will come. When he crosses the river, the lands will be one. One King for one kingdom. A kingdom of the living and of the dead.
“He uttered that prophecy on his deathbed, it is said-almost a century ago. Whether or not he actually spoke those words matters not in the least-it is believed across the land, and the coming of this killer has been enough to cause Varrock to begin to tear itself apart. That is why Lord Despaard is ensuring there can be no witnesses left after seeing this Wyrd.”
“Yet he let me go.”
“He did,” the priest replied. “You are not a peasant, Theodore. You are one of us. And you will keep the silence, for what else is there to do? Now, I must away to my church, for tomorrow I will ride out to the estate of Draul Leptoc to give what little comfort I can to those poor individuals Lord Despaard is holding.” He pulled his cloak more tightly around him. “Goodnight Theodore.”
He extended his hand, and only after a long moment did Theodore take it.
The squire watched as Father Lawrence left the square, and as he turned to take in a last view of the fountain, he was surprised to see a young woman standing in the shadows.
How long has she been there?
She watched him, carefully, and Theodore could see by her expression that she was afraid. She had the look of high birth, for her dark hair was brushed and her skin was without any blemish, yet her clothes were that of a lady’s servant. He moved to approach her.
“You are a Knight of Falador?” she asked.
“I am Theodore, a squire of the knights,” he corrected. “Is anything amiss?”
“I know the reputation of the Knights of Falador, and I have heard of you before for your conduct in the war. It is said you fought bravely and with honour.”
“I did my duty as best I could.” Theodore stopped some distance away from her. “Have we met before?”
“No, Theodore, we have not,” the woman replied, straightening somewhat. Her voice became stronger, louder as she spoke. “As I said, I know your order, yet I am puzzled. By you.” Suddenly she was shouting. “What kind of squire would help the authorities of Varrock kidnap innocent people?”
“But I haven’t…”
Before he could finish his sentence the woman drew back and hurled a stone toward him. He raised his arm only just in time to prevent it from striking his face.
By the time he had recovered, she was but a shadow fleeing to the south of the square.
“You are wrong!” he cried as she vanished into the darkness.
Shaking his head in anger and confusion, Theodore suddenly felt very tired indeed.
2
It was afternoon, and a grey light shone through the high windows of the palace’s great hall. The sweat on Theodore’s clothes was cold against his skin after the exersion of overseeing the training of twenty recruits for the knights.
The squire shook his head bitterly as he approached the grand staircase. Although the knights had triumphed in the siege of Falador, the cost had been tremendously high. He hadn’t been present when his order had been betrayed and surrounded by Sulla’s forces, where nine out of every ten men had died. Even now, it was something he found impossible to even imagine.
Afterwards, as a hero of the siege and a squire of the knights, Theodore had been sent to Varrock to recruit promising young men and replenish the ranks. Many responded to the call, and he had found a handful of promising candidates. By putting them through the paces they would encounter as peons, he weeded out those who would not pass muster.
“Squire Theodore!” a familiar voice called. He turned to see a young man only a few months his senior descending the stairs with great care. He was dressed as a nobleman of Varrock, yet his slight frame gave him a scholarly air-that of someone unused to physical exertion. His short black beard and moustache were neatly trimmed, for those who maintained a presence in the Varrock court were expected to be well-presented. Accordingly, his black cloak, trimmed in otter fur, was pinned by a silver brooch in the shape of a fox, the symbol of his house.
“Lord William.” Theodore greeted the friend who had acted as his guide in Varrock. William was honest and unpretentious, despite his noble background. He was intelligent, too, devouring history and keeping abreast of the latest news.
“You have a matter of great import to deal with,” William said. “One that requires all of your diplomatic talent, Theodore.” He paused and peered at his friend. “Just what are you going to tell Lady Anne?” he probed. “She wishes to dance with you at the Midsummer Festival, and everyone is waiting for news of Kara-Meir. You have told me repeatedly that she promised to be here by Midsummer for your reunion, yet still she is not here. The city can’t wait much longer.”
Theodore stared at the floor and shook his head.
“She hasn’t written to me for months, William. I know Ebenezer, Doric and Castimir are all coming, and should be here either today or tomorrow, but about Gar’rth and Kara I am still unsure.” He avoided William’s questioning stare. He knew his friend wished him to elabourate, yet he did not wish to do so. Kara’s long silence had both hurt and angered him, and he didn’t wish to admit such weakness-not to anybody.
“In that case, Lady Anne is seizing her chance,” William said after a moment. “She wishes to dance with the dashing knight who has refused the many fair maidens of Varrock. Your reluctance has made people think this Kara-Meir must be very special indeed.”
Theodore smiled at William’s jest. Yet he knew it was true. He had lived in the palace at Varrock for six months, an honoured guest feted as a hero. He had participated in hunts on the King’s own chase, and jousted with the greatest warriors of the realm.
But more than ever he missed Kara.
None of the noblewomen he had met could equal her. His aloofness had given him a reputation as a truly noble knight, and his chaste demeanour had marked him as an impossible challenge which none of the ladies at court seemed able to resist.
“She is special,” Theodore admitted, “as you shall see if she comes.”
At once he knew he had made a mistake.
“If she comes?” William’s face darkened. “I thought she had promised?”
“She did promise. But the last I heard of her she had ventured into The Wilderness.”
William exhaled in despair.