"Paksenarrion—come and see the treasure." He waved his hand at the array. "Amberion tells me you had no idea what you brought?"

"No, sir."

"Well, if it were all you ever brought here, Paksenarrion, the Fellowship of Gird could count itself well repaid. We have all examined these—all those of us in Fin Panir with an interest in such things. I believe—and so do many others—that these scrolls were penned by Luap himself, Gird's own friend. How they got where you found them I doubt we will ever know for certain."

"But how can you know what they are?"

Marshal Kory grinned. "That's scholar's work, young warrior. But you would know a sword made in Andressat, I daresay, from one made in Vérella—"

"Yes, sir."

"So we have ways to know that the scrolls are old. We have copies of Luap's chronicles and letters; we compared them, and found some differences—but just what might have come from careless copying. And these scrolls contain far more than we have: letters to Luap's friends, little sermons—a wealth of material. We think the writing is Luap's own hand, because we have preserved a couple of lists said to be his—and one of the letters here mentions making that list of those who fell in the first days of the rebellion."

Paks began to feel the awesome age of the scrolls. "Then—Luap really touched those—I mean, he was alive, and could—"

"He was a real person, yes—not a legend—and because he writes so, we know that Gird was real, too. Not that I charge you with having doubted it, but it's easy to forget that our heroes were actual men and women, who got blisters when they marched, and liked a pot of ale at day's end. Luap now—" His eyes stared into the distance. "That isn't even his name. In those days, luap was a kinship term, for someone not in the line of inheritance. The military used it too. A luap-captain had that rank, for respect and pay, but had no troops under his own command: could not give independent orders. According to the old stories, this man gave up his own name when he joined the rebellion. There are several versions with different reasons for that. Anyway, he became Gird's assistant, high-ranked because he could write—which few besides lords could do in those days—and he was called Gird's luap. Soon everyone called him 'the luap,' and finally 'Luap.' Because of him, no one used luap for a kinship term after that; in Fintha the same relationship now is called 'nik,' and in Tsaia it's 'niga' or 'nigan.' " The Archivist seemed ready to explain the origin of that and every other term, and Paks broke in quickly, sticking to what she understood.

"And he speaks of Gird?"