Interrogating books was less disturbing than interrogating people, even if Sollvar hadn't fully recovered his nerves. It may not be any more informative or useful in the hunt, but the worst he had to fear was a paper cut.
Considering Tifnar's opinion of the incident it seemed unlikely he'd be travelling anywhere else anytime soon, which was fine with him.
He started as the door opened, relaxing as Irnskar entered. Limping, the guard wore casual clothes, with only a short blade at his side.
'Should you be up?' asked Sollvar.
'Probably not,' Irnskar said as he eased into a chair. 'But lying around had started to irritate.'
'Really? I'd have thought time at ease would have suited you.'
'At ease, maybe. But if I'm going to be miserable and in pain I may as well be working.' The top few buttons of his shirt were open, revealing part of a healing glyph.
Applied with a substance which dissolved rather than burned, healing glyphs drew on the patient's body for the power to heal their wounds, so the process could be exhausting and required bed rest. More extreme injuries required treatments which could potentially kill, and were only used on severe injuries where the risk was justified. Sollvar had endured a few of the milder ones when young, during attempts to fix his hand, but had since managed to avoid needing them.
Irnskar and the guard had luckily suffered only minor wounds. Without glyphs they'd have taken months to heal, rather than the week of bed rest Irnskar had endured.
Sollvar had avoided discussing the hunt when visiting, despite being asked. Continuing to do so would just see his papers rifled through.
'More of the mercenaries have been found,' said Irnskar. Obviously not everyone had allowed him to rest uninformed. 'Dead. In various locations. A couple showed signs of torture.'
'Torture? Why would they have been tortured? Because they didn't get us?'
'Those killed later were just killed.'
'And they were hardly in a position to reveal anything,' said Sollvar.
'Maybe another player wanted to know what they knew.'
'Whoever left us an exit?'
'It'd occurred to me. I doubted they'd have done so from a generous heart.'
'And did they kill the other mercenaries, or did their employer?'
Irnskar shrugged. 'Without knowing the new player's goal I wouldn't guess. Although the mercenaries’ employer would’ve had to hire more muscle, leaving another trail while trying to remain inconspicuous.'
Sollvar wondered whether it’d been Einari, since he was investigating the original incident. It was unlikely. They’d no reason to believe the mercenaries were involved with the theft.
'I've alerted our regional guard units to be on the lookout for the mercenaries,' said Irnskar. 'If any still live. It's possible we just haven't found the bodies yet.'
Sollvar nodded, seeing another dead end.
'What are you up to?' asked Irnskar, glancing at the desk.
'Researching glyphs.'
'Don't you have glyphists for that kind of thing?'
'They're examining the working glyphs, and trying to work out whether the other glyph could possibly work. It bears similarities to older glyphs in the history books; those which no longer work. They seem to think it's a distraction.'
'They're not confident enough to remove it, though?' asked Irnskar.
'Not yet. I'm researching the old glyphs, to see if I can spot any similarities. Also, it’s a way to fill my time that doesn't involve walking into swordfights.'
'Tifnar isn't riding you to search more active paths of investigation?'
'He's less than happy with what happened, and has taken a more active role supervising the search.'
Irnskar rolled his eyes. 'Find anything?'
'Some. They correspond to suspected points found on glyphs from early in Wotyn's time. Not all the positions match, but enough to be of interest.'
Irnskar regarded him with a measured blankness.
'You have heard of Wotyn?' asked Sollvar.
'Of course. Hung impaled from a tree to learn the secrets of glyphs.'
'Close enough, I suppose. He's the father of modern glyphs, bringing them to mankind and basically founding civilization. He kept working on them over his centuries of life, and they changed. Some claim the changes are why the old glyphs don't work, although if they should rely on the same wells it's unclear why they'd have stopped.'
'Are you sure they worked? And that they were written down right? Maybe they were recorded with bits wrong as misinformation.'
'It's possible,' said Sollvar. 'But these are from Society histories, passed down through generations of glyphists. And the histories do seem certain that they used to work.' He waved vaguely at the copies of old glyphs covering one corner of his desk, which carefully duplicated every stroke, separated vertically.
'Wasn't the Society formed by the descendants of those who'd betrayed him?'
'It was the rulers who betrayed him,' said Sollvar. 'He acted as a benefactor to the kingdoms he'd helped establish, but his presence was seen as a threat by those in power. The glyphmasons weren't organised at the time, so if their rulers ordered them to help capture Wotyn, they could only obey or die.' This was based on the Society histories, though, so he had to wonder how far he could trust their interpretation of the facts.
'But the glyphs of the time could have been distorted by those who didn't want glyphists having that kind of power,' said Irnskar.
'Possibly. It's among the theories.'
'So the true stuff from that time could be lost?'
'Unless the knowledge is still recorded somewhere,' said Sollvar. 'There have been stories about where there could have been records of earlier times.'
'Any of the stuff you need? In places that actually exist?'
Sollvar smiled, tiredly. He’d been at this a while. 'Wotyn's recorded works were allegedly burned when he was taken, but there are stories that after his imprisonment workers sealing his tomb heard a scratching within. When the tombs were opened centuries later, glyphs had been recorded on the walls. Not written, just recorded, so the knowledge wouldn't die with him. Nobody stayed long enough to record them, and none have returned since, but they might be the most likely source.'
'Wotyn's tomb? As in the one a mile beneath Firepeaks prison?'
'Yes.'
Irnskar regarded him a moment. 'You're not planning on going there...'
'Absolutely not. Unless we can find some other idiots stupid enough to go down there, I'll focus on the pointless research.'