T. Church - Return to Canifis

“ Unhurt ,” the man said again.

The figure in the hood growled in response. He advanced a step, crouched, his arms outstretched to seize her knife hand.

“Go on girl,” the noseless man goaded. “Prick him at least with your little dagger.”

“I’ll bet you a gold piece that she doesn’t get near him, Velko.” The speaker was a pale-faced man with a mole at his forehead.

“You’re on, Owen,” Velko replied. “Go on girl-if you fail, you will have lost me money. And I will be forced to cut it out of your flesh.”

He had barely finished his sentence before she leapt, thrusting her knife arm out as she carried her entire body forward in a lunge.

And if her enemy had been quick before, he was slow now. Her knife slashed the loose cloth at his wrist and went through. She felt the tip of the longer blade stab something beneath.

When she pulled it back, she saw that its tip was black.

But blood isn’t black. It’s red. It must be the light.

The figure howled. Not a human yell of pain but something else, like the cry of an animal in agony. As he jumped back, the men behind fell silent in shock.

“It burns!” Jerrod roared. His head tilted back and for the first time she could see the face under the hood.

And when she did, she dropped the dagger with a cry of fright. Her will to fight vanished.

For it was an inhuman face that stared at her. Jerrod’s eyes were blood red, his jaw hideously swollen and his teeth too long to be anything natural. Quickly he jerked the hood back into place.

“ Get her ,” the scarred man ordered, before she could run. He stepped forward and put his foot on her dagger as his men seized her arms. “Tie her to the ladder.”

Her heart calmed as she was bound. But even the hated presence of the rope wasn’t enough to clear her head of that hideous face.

“Well, Jerrod. What happened?” the scarred man asked as Owen picked up the weapon.

Jerrod pushed the hood back again from his face and she braced herself for the terror that was certain to grip her. But when she saw what was revealed, she gave a gasp of surprise. For he looked human. Gone were the red eyes and distended jaw, and now he sat on a hay bale, pale-faced, retching.

“Get that dagger away from me,” he mumbled to Owen, who backed away. “It’s a wolfbane blade, cursed by Saradomin. I cannot concentrate while it is near. Get it away from me!”

Jerrod stood and swayed like a drunken man, lurching from the barn. Velko climbed down into the cellar, and she heard a surprised whistle.

“She’s good,” he called up. “She opened the cupboard somehow.”

Good, she thought silently. Show them your worth. If they think you are useful they will keep you alive.

“I picked the lock,” she said softly. “I’m a thief after all-just like the rest of you.”

“Wrap the dagger up Owen,” the scarred man instructed. “I will take it with me. But you, little girl… you have proved yourself more resourceful than I had thought. You will not be harmed so long as you don’t try to run. I will return here in a day or two, and by then I expect I will have thought of a good use for you.” He advanced and fixed her with his opal-clouded eye.

Can he see me with that thing?

“What is your name, thief?”

She breathed deeply before answering, to ensure that her voice sounded strong.

It was all my parents left me with. It will not be mocked. It will not be whispered.

“It is Pia,” she said. “My name is Pia.”

Be bold, Pia. You have nothing to lose now.

Her chin jutted forward.

“And you?” she demanded.

The man laughed, slowly at first, and then with a hint of madness.

“Who am I?” he responded. “ Who am I? You impersonated Kara-Meir, so surely you know her story. I have heard it spread throughout The Wilderness. About her and her friends, and their victory at Falador. Who do you think I must be then? Who else in all this world would have such cause to hate her that he would spare you in case you might be useful? Who has lost both hands to that wretched she-devil in single-combat?”

He leaned in closer, his foul-smelling breath disgusting her.

“You tell me who I am.”

The man was hissing now, spitting into her face.

Pia closed her eyes in sudden panic.

Of course, she thought. How could I not know?

“You are Sulla,” she said.

And this time, her voice did not sound so confident.

“Can we trust Sulla?” Velko asked his fellow outlaws.

“Not much choice, is there?” came the answer.

It was two hours since Sulla had left them and the men all looked tired. Pia was tied to the wooden ladder that led up to the gambrel. She was aware of the increasingly hostile looks the men gave her. She said nothing in an attempt to avoid provoking them.

She knew that she would have no other opportunity to escape. There were fifteen outlaws in all, armed with dirks, axes and swords. Even if she could free herself from her bonds, there was always someone watching. None dared to risk the anger of their leader-and the creature he commanded.

The shadows had darkened inside the barn. The only light came from a single lamp that was set well away from the dry hay. Outside, the sky was still overcast and the gloom was increasing.

After a time, resignation gave way to quiet desperation.

My only chance is to knock over the lamp, then escape in the darkness.

Unnoticed by her captors, she strained at the rope about her wrists, hoping that the old flax fibres would soon give.

My brother is out there-he needs me.

Finally, one of her captors spoke, putting a voice to the fears of his friends.

“What worries me is that we’re all wanted in Varrock,” Owen said.

“If we’re caught we’ll hang,” added another. “We lived in The Wilderness for a reason, and that’s ‘cause we have bounties on our heads. Every one of us.”

The flax rope gave way with a sudden snap. Pia took her opportunity and dived for the lamp.

“Get her!” Velko shouted.

A man moved to bar her way, but she ducked between his legs, her arm extended, knocking the lamp over. Someone closed the door to the barn. At the same time the lamp smashed.

The room went dark. She felt the man’s hands seize her legs. Pia kicked viciously, but the man held her tightly.

“Help me subdue her!” the outlaw roared.

Velko, she thought.

Someone nearby drew a sword.

Who would risk a blade in the darkness?

“Open the door to let in some light!” Velko cried, his hand around Pia’s throat.

A sword swung near the door. A man sighed as he fell.

“What’s happening?” someone shouted.

“I’ve heard enough,” a new voice, a woman’s voice, said. “I know you are all outlaws and murderers.” The calm coldness of the words brought no reply. “If you surrender now you will live to face trial in Varrock.”

Who is this? No one can fight if they can’t see.

“You speak boldly for a lone girl,” Owen said in the darkness.

Pia heard the outlaws ready their weapons.

Another sound came from the darkness, this time from the right of the barn. It was the sound of a sword tip puncturing leather armour. Pia imagined the blade severing internal organs and cracking the man’s spine.

She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the man screamed. The sound ended with a gurgle, followed by that of a sword being pulled from the body.

Shhhhhk.

“Rush her,” Velko shouted.

I must help her. She is my best chance to escape Sulla.

“There are fifteen of them,” she yelled as Velko squeezed her throat.