Prologue

My dear Milward,

I hope this missive finds you hale and well. The past days in Grisham have become quite lively since you took your leave of us those months ago and I thought you might be interested in a bit of news. Even though I rarely stray too far from the Library's steps, I do have my sources, Felsten being one of them. Though the young scamp is currently in the doghouse, I will discuss his failings with you later.

That young man you brought with you on your first visit, Adam is his name, is it not, has apparently joined the Grisham Guard as an officer. Well I should say, had joined, for he's not there now, but I'm running ahead of myself.

As you well know, the sitting Duke committed a horrible act against the person of the Southern Emperor's young niece. For that act war has been declared by the South in order to bring the Duke to justice. I do not mind telling you old friend that the thought of that scares me dry. It is one thing to read the ancient prophecies. It is quite another to be witnessing them come to pass. One item that crossed my eye the other day is that Dwarfish prophecy you and I read last spring. There is a passage in it pertaining to the one the ancients called the Destroyer. If I am not mistaken, you and your apprentice had a time dealing with the thing shortly after you left the library. Word has reached me that this Destroyer is slowly making its way across the northern steppes toward the Sorcerer's Island of Pestilence. Well, it is Gilgafed's problem now. Good riddance, I say.

My sources tell me there has been fierce fighting west of here, near Cloudhook. Some of the stories that come out of the battlefield have more the ring of fantasy than anything else. One of them tells of a strange company consisting of a giant, an elf, a rail-thin tracker, a cat the size of a dog, and a warrior maiden gifted with a magik bow. There have been strange occurrences these days, Milward. It could be this grouping exists, perhaps you would know. On one of our late night conversations you mentioned the young man's sister, Charity I believe you said her name was. I think I may have some news for you in this regard. A supplier I use for some of my more esoteric manuscripts and vellums was passing through Wycliffe around the same time you took your leave of us. I must say the shaping you used was quite a show. Cook still talks about it, but back to the young woman; my supplier told me an astonishing tale of marksmanship. It seems a group of Ortian soldiers out collecting conscripts came across a campsite just below the northern falls on the Ort River. The campers were, as he put it, a redheaded giant, and a whip thin man with crutches, a comely young woman, and a very large cat. I am sure you noticed the similarity to the tale I mentioned earlier. There have been others besides, but some of them are too fantastic for even my consideration.

Felsten, once he recovered from his night of excess, informed me that he let it slip about your young friend's heritage and about the sword he carries. Now the whole of Grisham is abuzz with the rumor that the heir of Labad is walking amongst them. Your apprentice is fortunate most of them could not find their spectacles even if they rested upon their noses.

An earthquake occurred a few weeks ago. I do realize that in a coastal region this is not unusual, but have you ever known an earthquake to create a gulf that cuts off an entire city without breaking a single window? This was either magik of a high order my old friend, or the hand of Bardoc himself, and I for one don't believe Bardoc is all that interested in saving Grisham, not in her current state.

Prior to the quake we were in dire straits indeed. The Ortian army had the city besieged and we were nearly overrun. Your apprentice can be proud of his actions that day. My sources tell me he is a man with natural leadership abilities, and the men like him. If he ever does assume the Emperor's throne, it should fit him well. It is said he accompanied the Duke's son on a quest to discover the old tunnels under Grisham. Captain Bilardi was never far from his side after the assassination attempt on the old Duke. I am told the assassin's arrow carried poison. No hope was given for recovery, yet recover is exactly what Duke Bilardi did right after a brief visit by your Adam. When you return, you should spend some time lecturing that young man on the difference between compassion and wisdom. That old man is still mad and his current affiliation with Magister Mallien worries me even more. I have never liked those thugs he calls his Inquisitors any more than I have liked the Duke's Plague. There is trouble brewing in Grisham Castle, old friend. War may have been averted due to our timely earthquake, but at best that is only a temporary fix. The Southern Army will not leave as long as the Duke avoids justice and I place no trust in Duke Bilardi's righteousness.

If you do make it back here before too long, do not look for your apprentice in the company of the Guard. Word has reached me that young Adam has resigned his commission and taken his Sergeant with him, much to the chagrin of the Duke's son. I am sorry that I cannot tell you where he has gone, but I suspect it may be back to that charming little village you told me about, Access, was it not? I am not so old that I do not remember what it felt like to be young and in love, Milward. There is a lot of power in that emotion, old friend, maybe more than any of us realize.

Until we meet again,

Your friend,
Alten Baldricsson,
Grisham Librarian