While Ludwig had kept to himself what he had discovered, someone else had turned them over to Hannis Arc.
He knew it couldn’t possibly be Erika. What he was reading was beyond her ability to reproduce. Mord-Sith didn’t understand complex magic such as prophecy, and it was far too detailed for her to remember.
Such writings took his occult talents to transcribe.
Besides, she was with him almost all the time. She was his bodyguard, as well as his assistant. In those brief times when she wasn’t at his side, she would never have had the time to write out even this one scroll, much less all the others.
More than that, there was no way she could have gotten the scrolls out of the abbey and to the citadel. Ludwig had known every coming and going to the abbey. His occult abilities would have alerted him had anyone been sneaking anything out.
No, it had not been Erika. But if not her, then who? No one else at the abbey could have produced these scrolls; no one else had been present to hear the prophecies. No one could transcribe what they had not been there to hear. He would have known if anyone had been using gifted talent to hear the prophecy given by the ones on the cusp of death.
These scrolls containing such important prophecy had come from somewhere else. Hannis Arc had someone else also providing him with prophecy. But who, and more importantly, how?
Ludwig gritted his teeth in anger.
He went to other books on pedestals and scanned a few of the pages. There were prophecies in them that should not be there, prophecies he had not wanted Hannis Arc to see, prophecies that Ludwig had discovered and withheld.
He cast a dark look at the old scribe as he pointed to the table of scrolls he had examined. “Where did these come from? Who sent them?”
Mohler’s face paled at the look Ludwig was giving him. “I’m sorry, Lord Dreier, but I don’t know. Sometimes soldiers brought in a scroll for the bishop. Sometimes when I arrived in the morning, the bishop was already here and he told me that there were more prophecies that had arrived in the night for me to record. He never said where they had come from and I knew better than to question the man.
“I knew the scrolls that had come from the abbey because I recognized the messenger who brought them, and sometimes you brought them yourself. Even if I had not been around to see them arrive, I recognize the scrolls written in your hand. But I don’t know about the others. I can tell you that they are written by at least half a dozen different people and apparently arrived from different places.”
“From different places? More than one place? Are you sure?”
Mohler shrugged nervously. “I don’t know for sure, Lord Dreier. It could be that they all came from the same place but were written out by different people. Being in different hands, I assumed they were from different places.”
That made the most sense, he supposed. Ludwig always worked alone, but that was because he’d had ulterior motives in the prophecy he collected. Other places wouldn’t have had that need to work alone, and might have employed a staff, all collecting prophecy from the same source.
Ludwig paced as he considered. This was not good news. Not good news at all. It was going to take a lot of work to catalog all of the prophecies to see which ones Ludwig had withheld that had somehow been provided to Hannis Arc anyway.
He needed to know how much Hannis Arc knew. He didn’t like surprises. He needed to know what he wasn’t aware of. Prophecy was a blade that the man used to cut down opposition. Ludwig needed to know how sharp was the edge on that blade.
As he paced, his attention was caught by something in a cabinet.
There, on a glass shelf, was a knife. The knife was speared through a withered hand.
But not just any hand.
It was the hand of a spirit, with a faint glow about it, caught and frozen in corporeal form.
The door of the case squeaked as he opened it and took out the knife. He held it up, showing Erika the skewered, mostly transparent hand.
“I don’t know for sure what that is,” she said, “but I think you have found some pretty convincing evidence of ghosts having been in this room.”
“More importantly,” he said with a smile, “I have also found a knife that interacts with them.”
He pushed the hand off the blade, and once free it vanished in a twisting wisp of vapor. The blade had apparently trapped it in the world of life.
Satisfied that the knife was what he thought it was, he slipped it under his belt until he could look around to see if he could find the sheath for it. The knife was far too valuable to leave lying around. He wondered what other things of such profound value he would find in the room. He wondered, too, what items Hannis Arc might have taken with him.