Illyra nodded. It was not the time to tell him that when the Raggah came to
trade they bargained with hand signals so none could hear their speech. ‘You
could go to a scriptorium along Governor’s Walk. They sell letters like Blind
Jakob sells fruit – it won’t matter what the letter says as long as you pay the
price,’ she suggested.
‘You don’t understand, ‘Lyra. If the formula becomes known again, ambition will
seek it out. Rulers will arm their men with Enlibar steel and set out to conquer
their neighbours. Wars will ruin the land and the men who live on it.’ Walegrin
had calmed himself and begun to trace the charcoal scratches onto a piece of
translucent parchment.
‘But, you wish to have it.’ Illyra’s tone became accusing.
‘For ten years I’ve campaigned for Ranke. I’ve taken my men far north, beyond
the plains. In those lands there’re nomads with no cause to fear us. Swift and
outnumbering us by thousands they cut through our ranks like a knife through
soft cheese. We fell back and the Emperor had our commanders hung as cowards. We
went forwards again, with new officers, and were thrown back again with the same
results. I was commissioned myself and feared we’d be sent forwards a third
time, but Ranke has discovered easier gold to conquer in the east and the army
left its dead in the field to chase some other Imperial ambition.
‘I remembered the stories of Enlibar. I hid there when I first escaped this
town. With Enlibar steel my men’s swords would reap nomad blood and I would not
be deemed a coward.