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. After all, he looked more like a thief
than a knight, despite his armor. If so, stolen goods were
fair game. Ask any trader.
"How is it you learned of this maiden?" she asked,
hoping to trip him in his lie. "Was there a message in the
boat?"
"No," the knight replied, "not as you mean, at least.
You see, the doll is magical. Each night, when Solinari
rises, the doll speaks with the maiden's voice. That is how I
heard her call for help."
Matya laughed aloud, slapping her knee. "A wondrous
tale indeed, Trevarre, but I believe you have taken up the
wrong vocation. You should be a storyteller, not a knight."
Trevarre's expression became grave, serious. "You
must know, Matya, that on his life a Knight of Solamnia
cannot speak falsehood. I can understand why you do not
trust in magic. We knights do not think much of sorcerous
powers either. But wait until Solinari is on the rise. Perhaps
you will change your mind."
Matya studied the knight attentively. His was not
exactly a trustworthy face, despite his pretty voice. Still,
there was something about the intentness of his pale eyes.
"Perhaps I won't," she said.
*****
It was nearly midnight. The knight had slipped into a
doze, less fitfully this time, and Matya rummaged through a
wooden box in the back of her wagon. The light of a single
candle illuminated scrolls and parchments. Finally, she
found what she was searching for - a bundle of yellowed
sheets of vellum.
Matya untied the bundle's silken ribbon and unrolled
the sheets, spreading them out on the lid of the box
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