Itoki looked at Dannyl hopefully. Dannyl nodded in agreement. “I would.”
The man smiled broadly, then rubbed his hands together. “Oh, you’ll be impressed, I’m sure. Most advanced maps ever drawn.” He rose, and Achati and Dannyl followed suit. “I’ll take you to the library.”
They made their way through curved white corridors to a cluster of rooms similar to those Dannyl had been given at the Guild House, and those he and Lorkin had used while staying with Ashaki hosts on their journey to Arvice. It was interesting to see that another Sachakan house followed the same pattern. Were they all the same? How long had Sachakans been building their homes in this way?
The central room held a few stools and a large pile of cushions in the centre, and several cabinets stood against the walls. Through the doorways leading out on all sides Dannyl could see several more. Itoki moved to a cabinet and drew a key out of an inner pocket of his jacket. He unlocked it and pulled open the doors.
Several metal tubes stood on end within. Itoki ran his fingers along them reverently, then chose one and drew it out. He moved to the cushions, nudged several aside to clear an area of floor, then lowered himself onto a stool with a grunt of effort.
“If you position yourselves there and there,” he said, pointing, “we can hold a corner each and weigh the other down.” Achati moved a stool into one of the indicated positions, and Dannyl shifted another to the second. They sat down and watched Itoki remove the cap of the tube and pull out a roll of yellowed paper.
“This isn’t the original, of course,” the man said. “It’s a copy, but it’s still over four hundred years old and a bit delicate.” He laid the roll on the floor and began to unroll it. Dannyl automatically caught the edge closest to him, preventing it from springing back. Achati did the same. At a glance from Itoki a stool rose and floated over to weigh down the last corner with one of its legs.
A great swirling mass of lines was revealed. Blue rivers wound across them, and beside several of them roads matched and reflected every curve. Tiny drawings of buildings, fields and the low walls of estate boundaries covered the map. Contour lines on a four-hundred-year-old map? The Guild didn’t develop the use of contour lines until two hundred years ago. But... this is a copy.
“How old was the original map?” he asked.
“Over seven hundred years,” Itoki replied, with a note of pride. “They’ve been passed down through my family since the Sachakan War.”
“Do you have the originals?”
“Yes,” Itoki grinned. “But they are in fragments, and are too delicate to handle.”
Dannyl looked down at the map again. “What is this map of?”
“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?
But it was late and he could not impose on his host too much. And no doubt Ashaki Achati would like to return home soon. Perhaps I can return some time. Then he felt his heart sink. But not for a while, because I have to visit all the other powerful Sachakans wanting to meet the new Guild Ambassador to Sachaka first, or I might show too much favour for one over the rest. Curse the politics of this place!
He would do his best to arrange another visit. In the meantime he must take advantage of any opportunities that came his way. As Ashaki Itoki led the way out of the room to show him the battle maps, Dannyl swallowed his impatience and followed.