"Saradomin exists," he had said with conviction. "Yours was an unfortunate fate, no doubt the doing of Zamorak. He exists as well, and some say his will is as great as our Lord's." The senior knight had bowed respectfully toward the four- pointed star that was the symbol of Saradomin, a symbol that the knights displayed proudly on their pennants and arms.
Slowly Bhuler had followed his example, uttering the words of Saradomin with a hesitant yet renewed confidence. "Strength through wisdom."
Never again had he shown such doubt. Accepting that he could not be an active knight, Bhuler had organised the running of the castle, elevating it to a higher standard than ever before. If he could not fight Saradomin's battles in the world at large, he would ensure that his brother knights would be equipped to do so.
And to Sir Amik, Bhuler's quick mind had proved an invaluable asset. It allowed him to concentrate his efforts on the knights' political affairs, knowing that the domestic matters of the castle were left in good hands.
It was therefore no surprise to any of the most senior knights that Bhuler should be present at the private counsel they convened to discuss their strange visitor.
Sir Amik recounted the tale of the young girl's arrival to the dozen men who sat before him. All had already heard some version of it-each slightly different, for the story had been told and retold a dozen times-and like all stories it had grown in the telling. Once he finished he sat down, gesturing to the master-at-arms to reveal what he could about the girl's belongings.
"I shall start with the sword."
He held it up for the men to see. It was a weapon of fine workmanship, and Sir Amik noted the look of admiration in the eyes of the onlookers. He especially enjoyed the look Sir Vyvin gave it, for his sword had been smelted years before by the Imcando dwarfs, before their defeat at the hands of raiding barbarians, and so precious had it become that Sir Vyvin only used it on ceremonial occasions.
"It is neither steel nor iron. I believe it is adamant." A murmur of respect ran through the men. Adamant was one of the strongest and rarest of all metals, and beyond the craft of any smith in Falador.
"I would draw your attention to the symbol on the blade, which is replicated on the scabbard." Sharpe pointed to the engraving. All were familiar with the four-pointed star of Saradomin, yet this was different, imperfect, as if it had been carved into the metal by someone replicating it from memory.
The sword was handed around the circle of men, each weighing it in his hand, their faces expressing their pleasure at the quality of the blade.
"How could she have come by such a weapon?" Sir Vyvin asked.
"We have two clues that might help us answer that," Sharpe said. "The white flower she clutched in her hand might give us an indication of her location before she teleported onto the bridge. I propose to send Squire Theodore to Taverley and the druids. They have the knowledge needed to identify the plant- knowledge none in Falador would likely possess." He surveyed the uncertain looks of the men. "But if the case be otherwise, then here is the flower. If any of you can identify it and tell us where it grows, it would save Theodore the journey."
The master-at-arms passed a silver tray around the company, the white flower resting at its centre.
"Do we not have books in the library that can help us?" Sir Vyvin asked as he too gave a resigned shake of the head and passed the tray back to the start, thus completing the circle.
"We do not," Sharpe replied. "I have spent the night checking for both the flower and this ring that the girl possessed. It, too, might tell us who she is." The broken ring began its round on a second tray, and each knight carefully scrutinised it.