The Emir held out his hand and Miro gave him the closed book. Volkan glanced at the cover before again looking at Miro. "Now is that time I mentioned, when you will have to tell the truth."
Looking again at the soldiers, Miro thought about Amber. There was no longer any point in dissembling.
"You might not want my people crossing over to your lands, yet someone from your lands came to mine. They attacked a meeting of our leaders, with an explosive device I now know to be formulated with this black powder. My son was caught in the blast." Miro could hear the emotion in his own voice. "He lived, but the blast also carried a poison."
The Emir nodded. "The alchemists can do this."
"My son now lingers near death. He needs me, and nothing will stop me from finding an antidote and taking it home."
"I now understand why your wife travels with you," Volkan said. "Tell me though, Miro, how did you plan to get home? Did you think you could steal a ship from me? Without a crew you wouldn't stand a chance, and the only ship the two of you could crew would be too small to make the crossing."
"I had to try."
The Emir was pensive for a moment, and Miro saw his story had touched a nerve. Perhaps the Emir had a son also. Perhaps the Emir also felt frustration at the whims of the alchemists.
"What will I do with you?" Volkan said. "I cannot have you reporting our presence back to your people."
"Tell me, Emir," said Miro. "Why are you so afraid of lore? Can you not see a future where technology and lore can co-exist?"
"Can lore heal? Can it feed? No, lore can only destroy."
"That's not true. We have merchants who use lore to bring goods great distances and build a prosperous economy. We have artificers who use lore to pump pure water up from the ground so that good, clean water is available to all. Our enchanters make heating stones to drive out the fierce cold of winter, and nightlamps to drive out the darkness."
The Emir shook his head. "Your idealistic words give you away. If I were to assist you in your quest, no matter how just, I have no doubt men from your land would follow in your wake. You would think contact would benefit us both, and not understand we simply wish to be left alone. We have a prosperous, civilised nation here. You've left me no choice, Miro."
Emir Volkan's next words filled Miro with dread.
"You'll spend the remainder of your short life as a slave pulling an oar on one of my galleys. You'll be chained to a bench along with five other men, and the sun will burn your skin while your hands crack and bleed. Your wife… I will be generous here, Miro, but she also must never leave. I will give her to one of my men. She is young and attractive, and a foreign woman gifted from the Emir is a great honour. Her new husband will ensure she stays confined in her new home, as it is a husband's duty to keep his wives out of trouble."
Miro tensed, near to breaking point. He looked at the sword on the ground, and prepared to die. He would never see Amber's face again. He would never feel the warmth of Tomas's smile.
There was a commotion, and the library's doors burst open. Miro saw the three men he'd overheard on the path, the soldier with the golden epaulettes in the lead.
"Emir, we have urgent news," he said.
Volkan turned. "What is it?"
"There are reports Narea has fallen."
Shocked, the Emir gave the soldier his full attention. "Did you just say fallen?"
"Yes, Emir Volkan, fallen. Our agents in Gokan sent word. Oltara and Muttara have joined forces. The barbarian horde has moved faster than ever before. They punched through Naiman's Wall in a single day. A week later they were outside the walls of Monapea. It fell three days later."
"How is that possible?" the Emir asked. "What about the Shah's Companions? The Shah's twelve divisions of swordsmen? His two thousand musketmen? His longbowmen?"
"Destroyed in a great battle outside the walls of Monapea."
"I do not believe it," Volkan said, shaking his head decisively. "We would have had reports the barbarians were massing. A month ago Rolan of Oltara and Starin of Muttara were at each other's throats! Where does this news come from?"
"The news comes from our people in Wengwai. Refugees fleeing Narea's south have crossed into Gokan, all telling stories of horror. The news has been separately corroborated by two of my personal agents in Wengwai. Even so it is difficult to separate the truth from the fiction. Apparently neither Rolan of Oltara nor Starin of Muttara leads this army. The rumours say a new leader rose in Muttara and took over from Starin. This leader then conquered Oltara and formed the horde into a single nation."
A newcomer entered the library, addressing the man with the golden epaulettes. "Another message, General Hauser. It's from the Elector of Gokan. It's dated two days ago. After the fall of Monapea, he fears for Wengwai. Gokan requests our assistance."
General Hauser turned to the Emir. "Emir Volkan, if Gokan falls, our ships will have little value when it comes to fighting the horde."
"Gokan won't fall," the Emir said. "The barbarians won't be able to handle supply lines stretched so far south. Remember, Monapea is far from here."