Chapter 3
The library of Kavaria lies behind The Monastery of Gondahar, and consequently, a large number of those who frequented its walls were clergymen. Every day, white robed priests could be found pouring over religious scrolls, philosophical texts, and on the odd occasion even the great tales of fiction, the likes of which could not be found in the rest of Garuana.
The youngest of the priestesses in particular, would sit for hours every day in the great library. Miana was High Priest Gondahar the Seventh's sixteen year old daughter. Rumor had it that she had rebelled, and that the High Priest had lost any hold that he might have had on her life. After all, would High Priest Gondahar the Seventh approve of his sixteen year old daughter spending all of her hours reading fiction? Of course, the mere prospect that she might have rebelled was an absurd rumor that had no doubt come about through gossip. It didn't bother either Miana or her father to say the least.
The truth was that Miana, longed for adventure, but while she stayed at her father's house, she was not likely to get it. As a little girl, she had listened to tales of princesses fighting mythical dragons. And when she grew older, she would read the The Unicorn Tamer every night before she climbed beneath her thick duvet and dreamed of the adventures she so longed for. Her childish fantasies of fighting dragons had long since faded away, but her desire for adventure had only grown. She tried to hold her thirst at bay by reading the great epic works every day inside the library.
The really interesting books and scrolls in the library, as Miana had discovered fairly early, were those kept hidden in the small cramped rooms beneath the main hall. These hidden rooms held the more valuable, more dangerous books of sorcery, black magic, and witchery were locked in these gloomy chambers. Only three sets of keys existed that would open these doors.
One set of keys, Miana knew, were held by her cousin Mintrow for safekeeping. He never disclosed how they had come into his possession. Another set, Miana had discovered per-chance while scrounging around her father's wardrobe. She had told nobody about it, but had stolen these keys to use for herself on more than one occasion. She felt guilty, but the urge to read these forbidden books was irresistible.
For the brief period that she had “borrowed” her father's keys, she had not known where the final set was kept. Few people guessed who had it, when in fact it was stored beneath their very noses.
Miana could distinctly remember the day that the librarian had come up to speak to her. She recalled the surprise that had filled her when she had heard how gruff his voice was. She recalled how startled she'd been that he'd approached her. He had always, almost consciously, kept his distance from her.
She had met his fierce gaze reluctantly but she had not faltered. She recalled his penetrating blue eyes and the wrinkles on his pale cheeks.
“Miana, daughter of Gondahar the Seventh?” he queried at the time.
“That's me,” she said. She had not turned away from the librarian's cold gaze.
The librarian's hand bulged inside his trouser pocket. “Today is your tenth birthday, is it not?”
“It is,” she had said.
“I have something for you.” His voice betrayed no emotion.
“You have a birthday present for me?” she said, taken aback.
“It's not a gift,” he said. “Its your inheritance.” His final word was spoken almost as a whisper.
The librarian had reached a bony hand into his pocket, and had withdrawn a fat bunch of keys. She had subconsciously stretched out a hand and allowed the librarian to tip the keys into her hand.
Her fingers had tightened involuntarily on the keys. A shock had coursed through her veins. She remembered her hand growing more tense. Her knuckles had turned white. And then, as quickly as it had come, the pain vanished.
She suddenly knew that she had inherited not only the keys, but the entire library. She opened her mouth to thank the librarian, but her next words had not been her own to choose.
“Eneth son of Eron, I bid you remain as my steward, and guard this library until such time as I or my heir reclaims it,” she said, surprised at the ferocity with which she had spoken.
“I accept the stewardship that is required of me.”
Miana smiled, and returned the keys to the librarian. Every day, she would take the keys back from the librarian, and enter the chambers beneath the library, to read the books that were kept locked away.
