The Ambassador's Mission полностью

“A region in western Sachaka, near the mountains. Let me show you the others.” Itoki rose again and collected another two metal tubes from the cabinet. The map he unrolled next was of a coastal area, with tiny boats drawn in the water parts and warnings written next to rocks and reefs. It was followed by one of another rural area.

“This is – was – in the south,” Itoki told him.

Where the wasteland lies, Dannyl thought. He doesn’t state it. He doesn’t have to. The fields and estates hinted at a fertile, green land where sand and dust now dominated.

They examined the maps for some time until, at a signal from Achati, Itoki began rolling them up carefully and sliding them back into their tubes.

“What areas of history are you interested in?” he asked Dannyl.

Dannyl shrugged. “Most of them. Though I suppose the older the better, and naturally any reference to magic is interesting to me.”

“Naturally. That would include Guild history, or is that already well recorded?”

“Yes and no. There are some gaps in Guild history that I am trying to fill.”

“I doubt I could help you there, though I do have some records from the short time that Kyralia ruled Sachaka.” Itoki rose and returned to the cabinet to replace the map tubes, locked the cabinet, then beckoned and moved into one of the side rooms. Dannyl and Achati followed. The tall, heavy cabinets around the room stood like guards on duty, still and silent. Itoki moved to one and opened the doors. Which aren’t locked, Dannyl noted. What’s in them obviously isn’t as valuable.

The familiar smell of old paper and binding wafted out. Inside were several books with missing or tattered covers, frayed rolls of paper and envelopes of leather wrapped around stacks of paper. Itoki rifled through gently, then took out a stack of papers and a book.

“These are letters and records of a Guild magician who lived in Sachaka during the years of occupation. I rescued them from an old estate at the edge of the wasteland that fell into the king’s hands after no legitimate heir came forward to claim it.”

He handed the book to Dannyl. Opening it, Dannyl leafed carefully through the first few brittle old pages. Like many of the old records of Kyralian magicians, they contained both accounting lists and diary entries. Conscious of the two men watching him, he started to skim the contents.

“… offer to purchase our House. I refused it, naturally. The building has belonged to my family for over two centuries. Though the price was tempting. I explained that if we do not own a House in Imardin we will lose the right to call ourselves Lord and Lady. He said land ownership is as important to power and influence here in Sachaka as well.”

Dannyl frowned. This was written after the war, yet here is a reference to a building that is at least two hundred years old and still standing. It is proof that Imardin wasn’t levelled during the war, as our history books claim. His heart skipped. He looked up at the two Sachakans. Clearly he was not going to be able to read the whole book, and make notes, while they waited.

“Do you mind if I copy this passage out?” he asked.

Itoki shook his head. “Not at all. You found something noteworthy?”

“Yes,” Dannyl drew out the notebook and a wrapped stick of compressed charcoal he always carried in his robes. “It confirms something I’ve suspected.”

“That is?” Achati asked.

Dannyl paused to write down the record entry, then looked up. “That Imardin wasn’t destroyed in the Sachakan War.”

Itoki’s eyebrows rose. “I’ve never heard such a thing. According to our histories the final battle happened before the gates, and our armies were defeated.”

Dannyl paused. “Armies? There were more than one?”

“Yes. They came together for the final confrontation. You’d have to ask Master Kirota for the full story, but I can show you some maps drawn after the war that show the three paths of the armies. They are not that old, or relating to magic, though.”

“No, but it sounds like they’d be very interesting.”

As the man took the book from Dannyl and placed it and the stack of letters back in the cabinet, Dannyl felt a pang of disappointment. In a few short moments’ access to this man’s library he’d confirmed something that had nagged at him for years. How much more could he learn?