It was a diary, written in a very crabby hand and was incredibly difficult to read. When he deciphered the first date he realised that the little book was several hundred years old.
The thirty-seventh year of Queen Karaliene’s reign and Daucus has returned from the kingdom of Areetan and re-joined the guard. Preceptor Garth is pleased to see him as am I. Twenty years is a long time to be away. I suspect he has learned much. The lore master has a mood which has lasted for many days.
Excitedly, Jemryn read the next few entries, but they were mostly the same. He could only read about how grumpy the Loremaster once or twice before getting bored. He skipped on a few pages.
The lore master is most angry when I say ask why books written before his time are in his hand. He thinks I accuse him of forgery. He says that the books were fading and needed replacing as all old books do. I think it strange that books should fail because nothing in these halls ages or changes, but he is the keeper of the books and must do what he believes to be right.’
More of the Lore-master’s bad moods and the tedium of training drills with the occasional dragon attack. They seemed much more frequent back then, there was about one per year, not one every hundred. There had been up to sixty knights back then and they had hunted dragons right across the isles. Jemryn skipped over the records of dragons being trapped and destroyed.
Queen Karaliene has died. Daucus has sworn fealty to his half-brother rather than leave the guard again
Who was Daucus? Was he the Preceptor? In the Spring ceremony, the Preceptor had said he was crown price but had sworn fealty to his brother to avoid war. The next few entries made sombre reading.
The preceptor has gone mad. Garth has been a fixture here since before my birthing day. He whispers of the eyes that follow him everywhere if he leaves the hall. He seems better away from the palace so the king has taken his armour and transferred him to Farrenreed to be cared for. It is a death sentence but the lore master says his mind is broken and he will never fully recover. Leif has been made Preceptor.
I visited Garth in Farrenreed. He is calmer now. He has aged beyond recognition but seems content. He tells me that something had been killing off the older knights. He said that the lore master is now oldest left and he begged me to pass on a warning but couldn’t clearly say what the warning was.
On the next page was a sadder note
Garth has died. He was the last of his family. Daucus and I stood guard by his bier in Farrenreed and he is buried in the gardens there. In the silence of the night, we spoke of our memories of Garth. I mentioned his confusion in his dotage, the unclear warning and how I wasn’t sure whether I had a warning for the Lore Master or against him. Daucus looked at me and said cryptically “My father always told me to be wary of Ran the Loremaster.”
Jemryn was shocked when he realised he now knew the Lore-Master’s name, or at least the first part of it. His father was interested in families and their history. Perhaps he would know where the name Ran came from. It didn’t sound like an island name.
‘There is much sorrow in the castle. The royal children have drowned in the tears. They were missing from their nursery and the whole castle was turned out to search for them. It was the Loremaster who found the toddlers when he saw the gate ajar. The king has ordered the tears filled and the gardens sealed.’
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Jemryn was a bit shocked. How did toddlers get all the way from the royal nursery to the gardens above the place without being spotted by guards or servants. Why did nobody else think that was odd, not even the Preceptor. Over the next few pages Jemryn discovered that Sir Blevin had started to develop a network of agents who collected old documents and sold them to him. Then in the middle of a dreary section on the minutiae of running his agents
‘The shields. I have discovered another of their powers. They conceal anything behind them. The ambassador of the kingdom of Areetan was sitting with the Preceptor in the refectory when I came in from practice. He started, when he saw me and said that his inner eye could not see me when I carried it. The Hall and the garden are well known for this but who knew the shields had the same property.
Frustratingly, Sir Blevin stopped there without detailing the other powers of the shields and then went back to talking about his agents and treasured scraps of old parchment. The man was obsessed with tax records.
The next thing of interest was about six years after the entry on the shields.
Leif has read my diary. I left it on the refectory table. He looks most troubled. We spoke at length in the garden. He says the diary will cause my death if it is found. He has ordered the shields to be taken from the walls and put in the vaults and this diary to be protected from scrying by them. He has put it abroad that, as antiquities, they should be better protected than hanging in a dusty hall where any enterprising thief might steal them.
After that there were far fewer updates. Jemryn supposed that this was because his time with the book was limited. There were only two entries of interest in the next decade.
Leif has retired from the order. A plague has devastated Golniabar and he is the last scion of the house. He goes to run his ancestral lands. Daucus has taken up the mantle of Preceptor.
And then five years later
Leif has been murdered, by pirates, it is said. His son is too young to hold the island so Sir Henrik has been sent as regent.
Jemryn skipped over the next few pages. Sir Belvin mostly talked about the other knights and had even drawn the family trees of a few. Every decade or so a knight died, mostly in a fight with a dragon but some were a bit stranger. Three sent on a mission to Areetan had all died; one drowned when he fell overboard, one was killed in a random street brawl and one contracted some strange fever that nothing could cure.
He mentioned the dragon Celosia and Jemryn felt quite sorry for the beast. Apparently, he was quite a young dragon and had attempted to escape but had been trapped by the Lore-Master’s spells and cut down by the knights. Sir Blevin seemed quite put out that the Lore Master hadn’t allowed him to escape and that the knights had been put in more danger as a result.
To hear the dragon scream as the Lore Master burned his wings with spells even though he had caused no damage did not sit well with me. He did not fight back until it was obvious that he was doomed. He managed to torch the tavern that the Lore Master was standing by but did it warrant his execution?
Burning down a tavern was, in Jemryn’s opinion, probably an improvement.
He flipped on a few more pages and found something unexpected, dated ten years ago
I was sent to Iskander to settle a case and found an intriguing entry in the court records of the duchy from a few years ago, which I have transcribed here
I, Dalmar, Duke of Iskander, do accept Leander into my house and family as my son, in recognition of his great courage and valour in protecting my people from pirate raids. This honour confers no right of inheritance but allows him and his heirs the rights of protection of this house and to bear the name Iskander in perpetuity. The good Duke is either more or less than he seems.
Jemryn was agog. He had met the old duke of Iskander, Hrafn’s grandfather. He and Hrafn weren’t really cousins. He flipped on a few more pages but there was nothing else interesting until he got to the last entry, which was dated this year.
‘The madame of the Broken Heart brothel has sent me a message. She has an old document dating from one hundred years before the reign of Queen Karaliene that mentions Ran the Lore Master. This may shed some light on his history. I must meet her in secret tomorrow.’
Jemryn shut the book in horror. Sir Blevin had been lured to his death. All the other knights that died strangely. Something or someone was killing the knights.