Verna realized that good meals and a polite welcome had softened the blustery, arrogant wizard. “Now that you’ve seen the vast number of books here, Renn, I hope you no longer consider packing them on a mule and carrying them back to Ildakar.”
Renn scoffed. “By the Keeper’s beard, that was never a realistic goal. My city is so far away, I don’t relish making that journey again. I don’t see the point! The cooks and bakers you have here in Cliffwall are quite talented. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that mutton and currant pie they made last night.” He patted his rounded stomach.
Verna raised her eyebrows. “So, Captain Trevor and his nine men are not plotting to overthrow the archive, conquer General Zimmer and his D’Haran soldiers, and steal all the tomes?”
Renn blew air through his lips. “Oh, I think that would be far too much trouble, however much Sovrena Thora might like to get her hands on these records.” He sank heavily onto the bench beside Verna, looking curiously at the odd toad figurine. He picked up one of the books and scanned the titles about legendary succubi. “Hmm, interesting. I don’t think we’ve ever had a succubus in Ildakar.”
He read for a few moments, then glanced up at Verna, more serious now. “Ildakar is truly a beautiful city, Prelate, as glorious as the legends would have you believe, but Cliffwall is a fine place, too. I admire what the people have done, and I’ve never seen anything like those memmers.”
Standing beside the table, young Peretta smiled proudly. “There has never been anything like the memmers.”
Distractedly, Renn picked up another volume. “Rather than hauling so many fragile and ancient books on a rigorous cross-country journey, it would make far more sense if I just brought a few scholars and memmers back to Ildakar with me, so they could at least convey the extent of the knowledge here.”
Brightening, Oliver glanced at Peretta. “That could be arranged. And I’d like to go along.”
“I would definitely like to see Ildakar,” Peretta added.
Surprised at their eager reaction to his offhand suggestion, Renn raised a pudgy hand. “Oh, I’m not suggesting that yet! I will need much more time to recover from our arduous trek.” He looked away. “And I’d want to be careful, since I am not entirely certain what Sovrena Thora might intend with this powerful knowledge. I’m a duma member, and therefore loyal to Ildakar, but the sovrena did many objectionable things. She turned my beloved Lani to stone.” He paused for a moment. “And all her bloodworkings, how she treated the ungifted, her scorn for those weaker than her. I was ashamed of what Thora did.”
Verna closed the volume in front of her and sipped her tea, which had grown cold. “Good thing Nicci and Nathan are there to keep her under control. I don’t believe either of them would suffer a tyrant.”
Renn chuckled at the thought. “Yes, I’ve seen the lovely Nicci, the flash of anger in her eyes, so blue! The wizards of Ildakar did grow complacent over a millennium and a half, but Nicci challenged their daily assumptions. I don’t expect Thora likes it.” He sighed. “Ah, I wish Nicci had been there when Lani battled the sovrena centuries ago. If they worked together, those two could certainly have overthrown Thora.”
Amber looked confused. “And you want to give the sovrena all the magic in this archive? Why would you do that?”
“Now, now, it was what she ordered me to do, but maybe it’s high time I stop listening to everything Thora says.” He sniffed, looked at the toad figurine again, and slid it aside. “Ildakar was a beautiful city. Lani and I had a good life together. You should have seen her call the songbirds. They would flock around her, chirping, singing.” He sighed. “But eventually, when Thora executed a slave for stealing some jewels she knew her own son Amos had taken, Lani couldn’t tolerate the injustice. She challenged the sovrena.”
His eyes filled with tears and he turned away. “Lani was powerful and dear, but compassionate, while Thora was ruthless. She defeated my poor Lani, petrified her, and then kept her statue in the ruling chamber for all to see the price of defiance.” He wiped a hand across his eyes and distracted himself by opening another book, squinting down at the words. “What is this? An entire list of cures for flatulence? Is that vital magical lore?”
Verna said, “If one suffers from the affliction, the cure would seem very important indeed.”
“And the person’s family and neighbors would appreciate it as well,” Rhoda commented from the adjacent table, eliciting chuckles among the scholars.
Renn returned to his ponderings, ignoring the studies of intestinal maladies. “The sovrena always doubted me because I cared so much for Lani. Yes, I was the weakest gifted duma member, and she always held a threat over me. I knew she’d petrify me too if I didn’t support her cruel rulings. I should not have agreed, but I didn’t have any choice.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “I now suppose she sent me on this wild and pointless quest just to get rid of me. She never expected me to find Cliffwall, maybe never believed it even existed. She gave me only a dozen escort soldiers to fight all the dangers we might encounter on a long and arduous journey across unknown lands.” He shook his head. “I suppose Captain Trevor and I could find our way back to Ildakar, but why would we want to?”
“I would like to know what Nicci and Nathan are doing,” Verna suggested.
“You have a point, but let’s wait a little while longer, shall we? I’d like a few more nights in a dry bed with a warm blanket.”
General Zimmer and his fifty men camped in dozens of neat tents erected in the pastures alongside the stream. The Cliffwall farmers tended fields of grain, families weeded their vegetable gardens, shepherds watched their flocks near orchards of nut and fruit trees. Though far from home, the D’Haran soldiers were relaxed, feeling safe after their long journey from Tanimura.
Despite the protection of the high rock walls, the narrow canyon entrance, and the isolation of the plateau, Zimmer didn’t let himself relax. He had explored up and down the main canyon, studied the tributaries of streams and side canyons through the high desert. He insisted that his fifty D’Haran soldiers keep their swords sharpened, their armor clean, their eyes alert. He did not intend to be caught unawares.
General Zimmer was young to hold such a high rank, but harsh experiences had aged him well beyond his years. He’d been promoted only because so many superior officers had been slain in the brutal battles against the ravenous undead armies that surged across the Dark Lands, driven by the resurrected Emperor Sulachan. Zimmer had faced death himself, been splashed with the blood of countless enemies, and he had also led vicious commando strikes down in the Old World against the army of the Imperial Order. He recalled his previous commanders, his brave mentors who had fallen under the gnashing teeth of a horrific enemy no one should have had to face.
Now, in the bucolic setting of the Cliffwall canyon, birds chirped in the orchards, and the sun shone in a blue sky. It was easy to be lulled into forgetting the true dangers of the world, but Zimmer never let down his guard.
Trevor, the captain of the Ildakaran escort, stepped up to him, still wearing his chest armor, short sword, and high boots. “My men are rested, General—and restless. Although this is a peaceful place, as we hoped, I don’t want my guards to get fat. They were unprepared for the journey from Ildakar. That’s why I lost three of my men.” He cleared his throat, ashamed. “I’d like to keep the other nine men sharp. Would you allow them to train with your troops? Spar with them? Maybe we could learn from your men, and vice versa.”