Eshnunna – 1301 – Spring – Late night
(Following day.)
One of the books that Tanios brought me, thinking of my new home and my curiosity about it, was A Collected History of the West Lands. Its title is, at best, optimistic; it is a collection of tales, little more, many of them as fantastic as those told of the Isles of Azar, which are no more likely to burst into flame and give forth dragons than I am. I think, that as with many such histories, the tellers of these tales, upon finding a willing audience for whatever they said, spun the most imaginative fantasies they could.
In any case, it is very old, and very slim, with close-set text written in a fine, neat hand. Reading it by candlelight challenges even my eyes, and I often look up from it to where Talana lies in bed to find my vision blurred by the effort.
She stirs sometimes, but does not wake. I have left instruction for someone to be with her at all times, and to write down whatever she may say in her unnatural sleep. Frequently, that someone is myself, for those of the castle who can read and write are called to other duties. Tanios helps as she can, but must soon return to Anaitis.
I do not want her to go. Oh, until she arrived I did not know how I longed for the sight of a familiar face, with the look and manner of the simin, and our silver eyes so unlike human beings’. The castle is old, and dark, but in this place a light clings to her and draws people’s gaze. They look on her as they must look on me. It is disconcerting. But it distracts me from my daughter who does not wake.
As does the book. As I said, it is old, and contains little enough that might be useful, though I found to my surprise that Kalin’s Height is mentioned more than once. There is reference to some battle fought there, though the details are scanty. The villagers themselves might know, if they are willing to tell me. But that will have to wait. Other places, landmarks mentioned to me by both my husband and his clerk, are noted as well, though Eshnunna is not. The age of the book itself tells me that this part of the country was settled by humankind far earlier than I had thought.
All of this is very intriguing, but tells me nothing of what happened to Talana, or of the horned figure I saw in the clearing that night.
Nor will it. And Tanios says that the books she brought contain nothing on the subject either. There is a notable lack of anything written, spoken, or sung about the mountainous country to the west, but I am certain once again that there the answer lies.
I know what I must do.
I must go there, and find out.