Milleus turned it over, studied the very southern leather cover, and opened the book with its soft vellum pages. He ran his fingertips over the page full of curly southern letters. He didn’t know the language well enough to easily read it, but the recognised that certain lines were dates, which, in the south, went back to some past war. “A diary?”
Isandor nodded.
Milleus turned another page. The vellum was of extra-ordinary fine quality. He didn’t even know they made things like this in the south. Spread over two pages was an intricate drawing of a strange creature. Its body was vaguely wolf-like in shape, but it had no hair and its skin was grey and wrinkled. From its shoulder blades sprang two huge leathery wings, with claws on the end. The drawing showed it slashing sharp nails at a w
