RuneScape: Return to Canifis (10 page)

Ebenezer was content to wait.

“I first heard of it some months ago,” she said slowly. “Farmers from the east said that children had been taken from their beds at night, and devoured. Later on it started happening to adults, to farm hands. Strong young men who would fight a wolf, if it threatened.”

She lowered her cup.

“But it’s been said no one ever fought this thing,” she continued. “It kills with absolute impunity. Always in the night. Some have seen it, or so they say. It has been described as a giant bat, with fangs that drip blood, or poison. Some people say it is a woman. It has taken indiscriminately—men, women, children, the old and the young. Some vanish never to be seen again, other times remains are found, but still no one has an answer to stop it. Some say it has taken over a hundred souls since it first arrived in our lands.”

One hundred!

“What you say matches Theodore’s description to the letter,” Doric growled.

“Then it
is
true?” Sally asked.

Ebenezer nodded. “Theodore confronted her two nights ago. She took a tailor’s child and killed the father. Her talons are poisoned, he believes. She also slew a man last night and left his body on public display, with a message written in his blood. The message read, ‘I am coming.’ Theodore thinks it was her, anyhow.”

“‘I am coming,’” Sally repeated with a shiver. “It’s not just this that is scaring people, however. Have you heard of the prophecy of the High Priest of Entrana, made a century ago upon his death bed?”

“Theodore mentioned it in his explanation,” Doric said. “Something about a true king returning.”

Sally nodded. “That is what makes people afraid. They think it is Drakan, and that soon he will cross the Salve and take Varrock. Others believe it is tied to the legend of Arrav and the Necromancer. This
Wyrd
seems to me to be a thing from Morytania.”

“That is what Theodore believes,” Ebenezer agreed.

Sally shook her head.

“I haven’t seen Theodore since he first came to Varrock with your request for the steam engine.” Her expression relaxed. “I would have liked to have seen it working.”

“It worked better than we could have hoped,” the alchemist replied. “And speaking of science, what else do you have to show me? Your recent letters have mentioned phosphorous.”

“Ah, phosphorous is the least of our efforts. We have had some success in our experiments with the Kinshra’s black powder, but for that you must be patient. Albertus Black will be here shortly, and I know he is excited to show you what new inventions we have come up with. Only when he is here, and you have both shared a drink, will I unlock the door to the wine cellar.”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Doric said. “I favour a strong red myself.”

Sally laughed.

“Then you are out of luck, master dwarf, for the wine cellar holds no wine. It is where Albertus and I carry out our research.”

Doric gave a brief curse and rolled his eyes—to the amusement of his friends—when suddenly the front door opened with a loud bang.

“That is him now,” Sally said in excitement. “Albertus is here!”

Albertus Black was a white-haired old man only three years older than Ebenezer. His sideburns crept down his face and met at his chin, where they ended in a short, ill-kept beard. Age had withered him to the extent that he was barely taller than Doric, no more than chest height compared to Castimir, and when he shook hands with Ebenezer, the alchemist was startled by how frail his old friend appeared to be.

“I am glad you have come back, Ebenezer,” Albertus said. “I had hoped to sit with you again for a time, and to talk about the past.”

“Not you, as well?” Sally chided. “We’ve already been over Eloise and her grave. We’ve even talked about the disappearances and killings that plague Varrock.”

“Oh, please!” Albertus said with sudden vigour. “She does go on, doesn’t she? Often I thought it would have been best if I had gone with you twenty years ago. It would have saved me
years
of nagging. No wonder poor Erasmus died so young.” He sat at the table, next to Castimir, and eyed the wizard with a hint of suspicion. “Do you know young man, I am only twenty years old? Yet look what she has done to me!”

Sally laughed and scolded him for a fool.

“If your bones weren’t so brittle, you would be out, Albertus Black!”

“So you don’t believe in this creature then?” Doric asked cautiously. “The one that is doing the killing?”

“No,” Albertus said without hesitation. “It is the imaginings of peasants drunk on cider or religion. Possibly it is a contamination
in the wheat—sometimes that can happen with ergot. And if that is the case, coming at a time when this ridiculous prophecy is talked of and spread about, then is it any surprise that a fearful figure grips the imagination of a folk weaned on legends of vampires and werewolves from over the river? No, it is all stuff and nonsense, and would never stand up to the scrutiny of a scientific mind.”

“You remind me of when I first met Ebenezer,” Castimir said, turning to his friend. “Didn’t we argue about the gods? You believed that Saradomin, Zamorak, and Guthix were all elements of the same god. You are fortunate Theodore didn’t declare you a heretic.”

“I believed that they were like fingers on the same hand,” Ebenezer explained. “Although I have seen much since that time, only six months ago.”

Near enough to make me reconsider my opinions, perhaps.

“I too believe they aren’t as people say they are,” Albertus huffed. “Since time immemorial we have listened to High Priests of Entrana as they lay down laws that govern our lives, setting calendars and dictating marriage ceremonies. And, of course, collecting money from the masses. I have never been to Entrana, but I expect the Holy Isle is a wealthy place indeed!”

“So what
do
you believe in?” Castimir asked politely.

“Science. Theories to test and then to predict. Let me show you.” The old man struggled to his feet and approached the cupboard that stood against the far wall. From inside he took a copper globe with a pump protruding from the bottom. Gently, he laid it on the table, wheezing from the effort.

“Now, master dwarf or wizard, would one of you be so kind as to use the pump?”

Castimir stood and did as the old man asked. He did so until he had gone red in the face and sweat dripped from his brow.

“That is quite enough. Now, you have just pumped out the air
that was inside this hollow globe, creating a vacuum. I believe that not even two horses could pull the two halves of this globe apart.” He peered at them, amusement in his eyes. “Try it.”

Ebenezer watched as Doric and Castimir did so. Once, when Doric spied a small plug, Albertus interrupted. “Not yet, master dwarf. Try using strength alone.”

Sally shook her head.

“It is impossible, Albertus. Show them how it’s done.”

The white haired old man bent over the copper globe and gripped the plug.

“Listen” he said as he pulled it aside. The sound of air passing through the gap filled the silence. Then, with a slight twist of his hand, he pulled the globe apart, and it fell into two neat halves.

“And what does that mean?” Castimir asked.

Albertus frowned.

“It means that the atmosphere that we breathe exerts a pressure.” He peered upward and waved a hand toward the ceiling. “It means we live at the bottom of an ocean of air and gasses. You see, the weight of the atmosphere presses the two halves together when there is a vacuum inside. However, when I remove the plug, as demonstrated, the air inside becomes the same as the air outside, the pressure is balanced, and it becomes extremely easy to separate them. I plan to show it to the King this very afternoon.”

Ebenezer caught sight of Castimir’s bewilderment.

“Well, perhaps you can show us something a little more practical,” he proposed. “Something that my sorcerer friend will appreciate. How about this phosphorous?”

“Yes. More practical and more fun,” Albertus said excitedly. “Come along!”

The small party followed Sally to the door that led to the wine cellar, where she made a great show of fiddling with her keys while
the grandfather clock announced midday. Finally the lock parted and they descended into a stone room with arched ceilings, where tables, barrels, and all manner of glass-shaped beakers and tubes were arrayed. To one side was a furnace, and to another was a separate chimney.

Albertus opened another cupboard while Ebenezer looked on with great interest.

This is home to me. I recognise these smells and instruments.

“Here it is,” Albertus announced. “Just a small sample of phosphorus the light-giver. Stand back.” He held out a small stoppered tube containing a white powder. He approached a table, first filling a jug of water from a barrel nearby. Then he spilled the powder onto a dry cloth.

In seconds a pale smoke rose. It was followed by a flash of light as the cloth caught fire.

Ebenezer saw Castimir’s eyebrow rise in interest.

“That could be magic,” the wizard said. “Truly.”

“But it isn’t.” Albertus smiled as he doused the cloth in water. “It’s science. Now, is there anything else you would like to see?”

“Sally said you had experimented with black powder taken from the Kinshra weapons,” Ebenezer said. “Can we see those?”

Albertus smiled even more broadly as he returned to the cupboard.

“Here.” He held a metal tube up for their inspection. A fuse protruded from its top, and Ebenezer heard Castimir breath in sharply.

“But I don’t think we will do a demonstration down here,” Albertus warned, returning the explosive to its proper place in the cupboard. “For obvious reasons.”

When they finished training, as they did every morning, the twelve recruits made certain their equipment was cleaned and maintained. This was the part of the daily ritual Theodore’s men hated most of all, for there was no glory or excitement to be had in such a menial job.

But Theodore ignored their complaints as he too removed and cleaned his armour. The hard work and the duties of his mission helped to distract him from the nagging worry over Kara and her continued absence.

These men hope to become squires, and then maybe knights. And if a knight can’t look after his blade or check the rings of his mail, then he won’t be a knight for long.

However, he could see that the recruits were making a special effort today, for the Midsummer Festival was an opportunity for them to show off in a punishing mélèe fought against Varrock’s finest knights. The reputation of the order of Falador was at stake, and it lent new vigour to their efforts.

“Hamel, make certain the men drink enough water before we drill,” Theodore instructed a young man who stood nearby. “We
might be standing under the sun for some time, and I would hate for any of them to lose consciousness.”

Hamel, a boy of sixteen, nodded enthusiastically. When he had first come to Varrock, Theodore’s biggest problem had been the sheer number of young men who wanted to become knights. Very quickly he had learned that he could not do everything himself, and so he had appointed Hamel as his aide. The boy could never be a knight, for his foot was clubbed. It had been ridiculous for him even to attempt to become one, and yet his dedication and his intelligence had impressed the squire.

After he had told the boy that his dream was impossible, Hamel had sat down and wept. But then Theodore had told him the story of Bhuler, who had also been denied his dream of knighthood, yet he had served Saradomin better than any knight in living memory. More so even than Sir Amik Varze himself.

When offered the opportunity to serve in his own way, Hamel had thrown himself into the task, and had never again questioned his fate. Since then, he had proved invaluable to Theodore.

They know now, these boys
, he thought, watching his charges.
They know that what goes on behind the armour, the organisation and the discipline, are a thousandfold more important than the strength of the steel or the sharpness of a blade.

“Squire Theodore,” Hamel said in his thick country accent. He nodded to the gymnasium’s entrance, where Theodore caught sight of William.

“Thank you, Hamel. Dismiss the men—though make sure they know that we are to meet here at two o’clock.”

William advanced with a faint smile on his lips, as though trying to appear natural.

He’s up to something.

“I know that look, William,” Theodore said guardedly. “You’ve
some mischief afoot.”

“Oh, come, Theodore,” his friend protested. “That’s too cruel. Although Lady Anne
was
most distressed at your treatment of her in the throne room this morning.”

Ah-hah!

“She’ll live,” Theodore countered. “Somehow I suspect that if I hurled her into a pit full of vipers, it would be they who would crawl out first.”

“Now that really
is
cruel! But just so long as you didn’t throw Lady Caroline in with her, then I wouldn’t raise a hand to stop you.”

So that’s it.

“What is your plan this time?” he asked with a hint of amusement.