The Destruction of the Books

by Mel Odom

  “Cap’n,” Navin protested. “Them reefs an’ them rocks, why, that ain’t all they say is in them waters there. I’ve heard any number of stories about the stalkers that—”

  Horrid illustrations, all fangs and blood and curved talons, filled Juhg’s mind from the books he’d read while in the Vault. The Tattered Islands had existed before the Cataclysm, a place of some unknown doom that had been forever changed and forever cursed. A number of volumes in Hralbomm’s Wing recounted at length the adventures of hapless heroes and dastardly villains who spent their last breaths upon those broken shoals.

  Captain Attikus interrupted Navin, cutting in with a tone that brooked no argument. “I’m sure you’ve also heard stories about the endless piles of pirates’ loot that decorate the coasts of those islands.”

  “Aye, an’ I have,” Navin replied. “An’ I’ve never once hoped to go a-huntin’ there, Cap’n. Them islands, why, they’re a fearful place. I’ve talked with ship’s mates what’s been near to them an’ they’ve had plenty to say about all the wailin’ fer a man’s blood what goes on there.”

  The captain held up a hand. “I’ve been through the Tattered Islands. Seafarers from Greydawn Moors have marked passages through there. I’ve used those islands as hiding places before—and I’ve endured more than enough of the superstitious twaddle about undead things living there—to elude pirates with more ships than I could fight.”

  Juhg could tell by Lucius and Navin’s reactions that the men clearly were not happy with the captain’s choice of action.

  “We’ll sail on through to the other side of the islands,” Captain Attikus stated. “I’m guessing two days will put us there ahead of Blowfly. If our luck holds, they’ll cross those waters early in the morning and we’ll catch sight of them.” He tapped the map at the outermost island’s edge. “There’s anchorage here on Jakker’s Hold where fresh water can be taken on. We’ll stop there when we’ve finished our business with the goblinkin, then—once we have the book—head back to the Blood-Soaked Sea and Greydawn Moors.”

  “Return to Greydawn Moors so soon?” Navin shook his head. “We only just got shut of the place, Cap’n. There’s profits to be made from the investments the crew has made in the cargo we’re carryin’. Some of it’s perishable. You’re askin’ them men to take a loss against their good faith.”

  Juhg knew the first mate was more concerned about his own investments. Navin tended to be a gambler of the first order, always seeking the highest profits to be made.

  “You men who came aboard my ship,” Captain Attikus spoke levelly, “took an oath to first defend Greydawn Moors and the hiding place of the Vault of All Known Knowledge across the Blood-Soaked Sea.”

  Navin had trouble meeting the captain’s penetrating gaze. “Aye, Cap’n. That we did.”

  “Then I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Navin’s jaw firmed. He clearly didn’t like how things were going, but he knew his place. “Aye, Cap’n. I was just thinkin’ that maybe that book—” The mate said the word like it was a curse, a thing to be despised. “—might could wait awhile. Till we finish the journey we’ve planned. To go a-chargin’ back across the Blood-Soaked Sea like that, why, we’re like to call attention to ourselves, we are. An’ ye know we shouldn’t have none of that.”

  Captain Attikus raised his eyes to meet Juhg’s. “Explain it to him, Librarian Juhg.”

  Feeling a little embarrassed, and a little challenged because few people of any race outside those that lived on Greydawn Moors truly understood the significance of books, Juhg said, “If the goblinkin haven’t destroyed that book by now, and it’s in the care of a wizard, it has to be an important book.”

  “Ye saw the book,” Navin accused. “Don’t ye know if’n it’s important or not?”

  “The book’s important,” Raisho growled. “If’n it wasn’t, the wizard would never have wasted an enchantment to protect it.”

  “Ye don’t even know if they still have the book. Fer all ye know, that goblinkin captain mighta traded it back in Kelloch’s Harbor.”

  “They did their pirate trading with the cooper that young Herby told us of,” Captain Attikus said. “A cooper would have no use for a book.”

  “Then why bring it all this way?” Navin persisted. “Don’t make no sense, is what I’m sayin’.”

  “The book belongs to the wizard,” Raisho replied. “Them goblins talkin’ about the book, why, them creatures was just talkin’.”

  Navin thrust his whiskered jaw out defiantly. “Then how did the cooper know the book was on the goblin ship?”

  Juhg had to admit the man was clearheaded enough to point out that discrepancy in the story. How did the cooper know the book was coming into port? Juhg hadn’t thought up an answer that satisfied him yet.

  “Mayhap we could go back an’ ask the cooper,” Raisho growled. “After we finish this bit of business.”

  Navin sighed and shook his head. “We’re gonna be spillin’ blood, that’s all I’m sayin’. Our own, as well as that of them goblinkin. I just gotta know how many men’s lives a book is worth.”

  Anger ignited within Juhg. How many times had he ventured into dangerous and inhospitable lands with Grandmagister Lamplighter to retrieve a book from ruins or some other hidden place? How many times had they gone just to investigate a rumor that had been carried by the friendly pirates working the Blood-Soaked Sea? He didn’t know. But men, elves, and dwarves had died in those efforts.

  “The worth,” Juhg declared in a much stronger voice than he’d intended, “depends on the book.”

  Navin looked up at him. Surprise gleamed in his eyes.

  Juhg suddenly felt nervous and he almost stopped speaking, but his anger was upon him and the silence between the humans watching him drew the words out. “We don’t know what a book’s worth until we read it. Even then, that worth might be a long time in coming.” He fidgeted, feeling so small with the four of them looking down on him. “So many people think the Librarians hoard information they glean from the books they read. Shopkeepers even along the Yondering Docks in Greydawn Moors talk with each other about fabulous fortunes the Librarians know about because of their studies.”

  Windchaser heeled over a little bit as the crew worked the sails topside and she caught a crossways breeze.

  “Once,” Juhg went on, “an attempt was made to kidnap Grandmagister Lamplighter when he was still a First Level Librarian. They wanted him to find the Lost Tower of Jeludace, where, rumor had it, a king’s fortune awaited discovery.”

  “I heard about that,” Lucius said. “The Grandmagister barely escaped with his life.”

  Juhg nodded. “There was no fortune waiting to be won. But there were books.”

  “Then what’s the use of ’em?” Navin demanded. “They’ve laid there for years, some of ’em rotted.”

  The idea of books languishing so long they’d given up and departed the mortal coil pained Juhg. During their travels, he and Grandmagister Lamplighter had occasionally found small, personal libraries that had decayed and been forever lost.

  “Because books give us our ties to the past,” Juhg said. “They help us rebuild the world that once was.”

  “An’ that world will never be again,” Navin argued. “So what’s the use of that?”

  “They help us to better understand who we are now,” Juhg went on. “They tell us how to do things, arts and sciences that were lost during the bloody years of Lord Kharrion’s war.”

  “Men learn what they need to learn,” Navin said. “That’s the way it’s always been.”

  “It takes time to learn,” Juhg said, striving to make himself understood. “That’s why books are written. To carry on information others have already spent their time to learn. Animal husbandry. Gardening. Even sailing and building ships.”

  Navin shook his head. “Ain’t never need to know nothin’ me da didn’t teach me. Was I to need somethin’ past that, I learned from those around me. Ye want knowledge? If
it’s somethin’ worth knowin’, why, most folks already know it. All that other stuff ye’re talkin’ about, why, it ain’t worth the time it takes to read nor write.”

  “Navin,” Captain Attikus admonished, evidently fearing the first mate had gone too far.

  The man’s attitude aggravated Juhg. So many of the inhabitants of Greydawn Moors felt as Navin did, that the Library and all its Librarians were a waste of time and resources better spent elsewhere. Even Grandmagister Lamplighter’s father hadn’t wanted him to work at the Vault of All Known Knowledge.

  “It’s all right, Captain,” Juhg said. His eyes never left Navin’s. Although dwellers as a race tended to be meek and mild, he knew the melancholy and anger at the events that had shaped his life marked him differently. That was what had finally driven him from the Library and from Greydawn Moors: No matter how hard he had tried, he had never quite fit in.

  Navin looked a bit triumphant. He smugly folded his arms across his chest.

  “Do you remember the sickness that ran through Greydawn Moors last year?” Juhg asked.

  “Aye. Me sister’s snot-nosed brats came down with the fevers an’ them chilblains.”

  The sickness had reached near epidemic numbers on the island last spring. Grandmagister Lamplighter had traced its cause back to one of the pirate ships that had come in unknowing with the sickness.

  “Do you know who found the cure to the sickness?” Juhg asked.

  “The apothecary,” Navin answered. “Was him what fixed up the herbs an’ such that fixed everybody up.”

  “It weren’t the apothecary,” Lucius stated with a quiet grin. “Mayhap he made up the herbs, but ’twas the Librarians what told him how it was to be done.”

  “That’s right,” Juhg said. “When the sickness broke out through the port area and climbed up into the foothills of the Knucklebones Mountains where many outlying homes are, it was the Librarians who searched for an answer to the sickness in those books that you’re so ready to shovel out with the barn muck.”

  “That sickness had never been seen on the island,” Raisho said. “Like as not, everybody in Greydawn Moors might well have died from it had the Librarians not found the cure.”

  Navin scowled. “There’s still a powerful lot of nonsense that the Librarians take pride in that ain’t needed.”

  “Not in your life,” Juhg replied. “But in the lives of others?” He shook his head. “That’s not for a Librarian to say. A Librarian serves best by making sure the information is kept up with.”

  Navin blew out his breath. “All right, then. It wasn’t like we had any real choice about fetchin’ that blamed book. I just hope it’s worth the trouble, is all.”

  So do I, Juhg thought.

  “Since we’re all in agreement now,” Captain Attikus rumbled dryly, making it clear that no chance had existed of the situation going any other way, “this is how we’ll do it.” He tapped the map. “When that goblinkin ship rounds Iron Rose Island, the southeasternmost of the lot, and if it’s morning when they do, we can get onto them quick. Coming out of the morning sun as we’ll be, they won’t see us until we’re right on top of them.” He paused, staring at the map, then lifting his eyes to the men around him. “That should give us all the edge we’ll need to take that ship.”

  Even with the edge, though, Juhg knew men were going to die in the attempt.

  “Raisho,” Captain Attikus said, “I know you’re probably wondering why I asked you here.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  For that matter, Juhg thought, so am I. The fact that the captain would have a war council before taking up the pursuit of Blowfly was no surprise. Captain Attikus was a thorough man.

  “I’m thinking,” Captain Attikus said, “that mayhap those goblinkin, or at least the wizard, might suspect we’re after the book. More than likely, the book is the only thing of worth on the whole vessel.” He glanced at Raisho. “All the tales of gold and riches notwithstanding.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” Raisho apologized. “Tellin’ of all that made for a good tale, though.”

  “I’m sure it did, Raisho, and there will be no few who will be disappointed—”

  “Or downright mad,” Navin put in, then glanced hurriedly at Captain Attikus. “Beggin’ the cap’n’s indulgence for speakin’ so out of turn.”

  Attikus nodded. “You’ll have to make amends for your stories, Raisho.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” Raisho stated glumly.

  Juhg knew that no young human ever liked to have to go back and change a story once told that brought glory and interest to him. And the tale of the trip they’d made aboard Blowfly last night had delivered a considerable amount of both to him.

  “Of course,” Captain Attikus said, “it’s possible that the goblinkin vessel spent or gambled away all their riches. Or were even serving the wizard to pay off a huge debt or buy an ensorcelled object.” He didn’t look at the young sailor.

  A canny look fitted itself to Raisho’s face. He gave a slight nod, but said nothing.

  “In the meantime, Raisho,” Captain Attikus said, “it may well be that we can’t take the goblinkin ship without sinking her. Besides the damage we’ll undoubtedly inflict while taking her, she appears none too steady anyway. I’m certain the fire damage from last night did her no good.”

  A cold apprehension suddenly started across Juhg’s shoulders as he realized where Captain Attikus was headed.

  “Librarian Juhg,” the captain stated, “I’ll have to ask you to be part of the boarding party.”

  “Me, Captain?” Juhg couldn’t believe it. “But—but I’m no warrior.” He’d fought in the past, when he’d had to and where he’d had to, but never because he’d wanted to.

  “It may be that we don’t have the book from the goblinkin ship at the time she goes down,” the captain explained. “You’ll go aboard and seek to find the book, should time grow short once we’ve started boarding the enemy vessel.”

  “Me, Captain?”

  “You,” Captain Attikus stated emphatically. “I’m sure that your Grandmagister would demand no less of you.”

  No, Juhg was certain of that as well. Grandmagister Lamplighter had often risked his life in pursuit of books that had avoided collection during the Cataclysm.

  “Raisho,” the captain went on, “you’ll be personally responsible for Librarian Juhg, should he have to take on the mantle of a hero to go after that book.”

  “Beggin’ the cap’n’s pardon,” Raisho said, “there’s any number of men what’s able to nursemaid—to look after the bookworm. Ye need me up front, Cap’n. Where all the fightin’ is. That’s when I’ll be at me best.”

  “You’re a capable man, Raisho, despite your youth and your arrogance. And you’re friends with the Librarian. I know you won’t be tempted to leave him to his own devices in the heat of the moment.” Captain Attikus placed his hands together behind him. “This is going to be done as I wish it to be done, gentlemen. That’s all there is to be said about the matter.” He looked around the room. “If there are any more questions…?”

  There were none, though Juhg firmly wanted to lodge a protest. Raisho would be busy enough taking care of himself without spreading his defenses thin to protect another person who didn’t belong on the front line of a boarding party anyway.

  * * *

  Midmorn streaked the horizon a day and a half later. The stabbing fingers of the newly rising sun didn’t make much headway against the storm front moving in from the east across the Frozen Ocean. Whirling clouds fought for space in the dark sky, looking like black roses blossoming time and time again against a field of black velvet.

  Juhg sat in Windchaser’s crow’s-nest, sharing space with Ornne, the young sailor whose eyes were sharp as spyglasses. Ornne was gangly and short, all arms and legs and a head that looked much too big for him. Next to Ornne, Juhg had the best eyes among the crew.

  Nervously, Juhg scanned the eastern horizon. Pushed by the storm coming in to land, the dir
ty slate-gray waves rolled tall and white-capped. Spotting sails, especially Blowfly’s soot-streaked sails, would prove hard against the dingy sky and ocean almost the same color. Occasionally, jagged rips of lightning burned across the sky, and the crack of thunder—loud as a blacksmith’s hammer while working old iron—rolled over the ship.

  The crew stood ready on Windchaser’s deck. They were clad in leather armor that barely offered any protection for the head and chest. Heavier armor couldn’t be worn: If they lost their footing and fell from the ship during the planned boarding, they’d sink like stones and the crew wouldn’t be able to pull them back aboard. Many of the crew didn’t know how to swim.

  The storm presented an ill omen, and sailors had always believed in omens more than anything else.

  Windchaser rested uneasily at anchor as if shying away from the forbidding chunk of rock that stood against the storm’s fury. When he’d first seen Iron Rose Island during the night, Juhg was convinced that it was as desolate as the others he’d had a chance to observe as the ship sailed between the Tattered Islands and the mainland.

  But even in the false early morning light presented by the storm, he knew that wasn’t right. A city had once existed on the island. All that remained of that city now were remnants of buildings that stood close to the ground—where they stood at all.

  When first constructed, the buildings had resembled black roses. Iron framework held the lines of nearly all the buildings and even the modest houses. The exterior of those structures consisted of black slabs of rock cut like rose petals. Where the iron framework showed bereft of stone, the design stood out in bold relief.

  Once, Juhg knew, the city filled the foothills of Iron Rose Island with beauty. He wished that there was time to go ashore and study the architecture and the grounds more thoroughly, but the captain had forbidden that. However, the ululating wails that came from the island caused no little apprehension and probably would have held Juhg from making such a landing on the beach anyway.