Tukufu and the Colloquia et Daemonia

Part 2
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There was a large wake of course. Okapi had been friends with Ambassador Aziz who runs the true Altherian Embassy. He organized everything. I attended with my wife and we mingled with expatriates from the Republic, members of the Mother Church, fellows of the Azure Way and Emerald Society archeologists. I already knew a lot of the people there. We did the usual things. Drank good wine. Toasted Okapi’s memory. Shared lots of stories.

I had assumed he had died exploring some ancient tomb, probably with a flintlock in his hand. To my surprise I learned that he had died in the First City. Apparently his heart just gave out in the middle of the night. Like me Okapi was only in his 30s. There were mutterings of foul play all around the room when that tidbit came out! But we were quietly assured that the embassy and certain friends had already done a discrete investigation. Nothing untoward like poison had been found.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt like Neroth was somehow nearby. Thirty-something is too young to go like that. I was left wondering if the same fate could happen to me. Or Belinay. Maybe she had the same disquieting thoughts. We came together and held hands through most of the evening.

While talking to Ambassador Aziz I was surprised to learn that I was to receive a bequest of sorts. Apparently Okapi had a tome in his possession that he had intended to bring to me. I felt vaguely guilty. I was sure Okapi had meant to work some kind of deal for the sonnets.

“Does it have a title?” I asked

“Yes.” Aziz smiled at me and arched an eyebrow, “Apparently the work is called the Colloquia et Daemonia.”

That translated as The Conversation with Demons. Belinay made a face, and muttered, “Sounds delightful…”
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The next morning Belinay and I were both slow to get moving. Nursing a headache I lingered in our feather bed only half awake. Belinay was snuggled against my side and believe you me, I was in no hurry to go anywhere. Early on, in one of our few fights, she had insisted on the bed. I had, I’m a little embarrassed to say, been using my old bed roll from the Crusade when we got married. I know it sounds shabby. Laugh if you will. Belinay certainly did. All I can say is that after marching up and down the Hinterlands it seemed like a small miracle that there were no rocks or jackals in Litera Scripta Manet.

I still worry a little that the bed is making me soft, and that someday I won’t be able to rough it in the field. But Belinay is happy. Despite the hangover, in that endless moment, I was happy too.

Work eventually got in the way. T’messe, our best illuminator, banged on the door, “Hey boss, you better come down and take a look at this. We’ve got four guys from the Altherian Embassy toting a Codex. And the thing is huge. HUGE.”

I have the impression that there may be a demon bound within the pages of the book and reading it will summon it…

Whenever dealing with texts of potential magical malignacy, I always work with overlays the size of the page with cutouts in them whose total number of spaces reveal approximately one third of a page (potentially every third word depending on line spacing and font size of the scribe). One can transcribe that third or copy portions of drawings without even seeing the entire page. Additionally it reduces the chances of accidental physical contact with the page as well. When one is done, one just switches to the next overlay and copy that portion, and then the next. Together, those three can then be cojoined (or read in pieces) that are hopefully deprived of the potential power or malignancy of the original text. It is a slower process, but very efficacious in preventing accidental eating of faces or crushing of fragile mortal minds.

Part 3
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T’messe wasn’t exaggerating. The Codex was at least three feet long by two feet wide and not far short of being a foot and half thick. By a safe margin it was the biggest book I’d ever seen. It probably weighed somewhere around 150 pounds. That’s a lot of book

Belinay was grinning as she looked at me, “Clearly it was a long conversation.”

The store was open, but it was early and there were only a couple of customers in the shop. They had ambled over to join my staff in gawking at the thing. I didn’t begrudge them their curiosity. I was gawking too. The codex seemed to be in good condition even though the pages looked yellowed and ancient.

We cleared space on a table and I gently opened the book to do a quick skim. I was happy to see that the vellum looked like normal lambskin. Nothing suspect or off-putting. Good, you never know. I was surprised to see that the first hundred pages of the book contained the liturgy and rites of Beltine. Certainly that was an oddity for a text that purported to deal with matters infernal. Stranger still, the middle was an illustrated guide to the cultivation and use of medicinal herbs. Two smaller parts finished the Tome. The first was roughly sixty pages of civic laws and genealogies – all various branches of the val’Ishi family. Presumably ancient and all long dead. Finally the last section catalogued the many forms of the infernal much like a bestiary. I recognized many of the illustrations from my own experiences in the Crusade.

Eventually I said, “I think I get it. It’s from early in the Time of Terror.”

Belinay looked at me doubtfully. T’messe added that inks usually fade more over a thousand years. But as leaps of intuition went, I thought my guess was only a modest hop.

“During the Time of Terror it was like all of civilization was ending.” I started. “I’ve read that there were efforts at several remote monasteries to preserve the worlds’ knowledge. Sometimes the more ambitious plans were to try to put all their essential material into a single manuscript.” I gestured at the book. “Enpyben is near the Corlathean Mountains. A good place for monks to hide and write down all that they knew and remembered.” After a pause I added, “There is fine residue of the Arcanum on the work…that might explain why it’s so well preserved.”

T’messe started nodding his head. “That could make sense. The artwork has a certain charm but whoever did it wasn’t a professional. No sense of perspective. No knowledge of internal anatomy. They were talented but lacked formal training…for all the cost and effort put into this you would think they’d hire the best illuminators they could afford or train. But, if it’s just the monks themselves in some hide out…”

Belinay interrupted. “The handwriting is the same. Front to back. Look at the way they do the ‘F’ here. And there. And there.”

I looked from her to T’messe and back. My eyes had widened at that. We all knew books, and were doing the math. I started, “Only one scribe? That’s a little bit crazy. It’d probably take a scribe a couple of years…”

“…just to do the calligraphy!…”

“…under good conditions…”

“Under your guess the conditions weren’t good.”

“…how much then – to do everything?…”

“Ten or twenty years?…”

“Ten or twenty?!?”

T’messe scowled. “Look at it. It weighs more than your wife! You say they were dodging a horde of devils! No one toted this monster up and down the Corlathean’s as they ran from hideout to hideout. For two decades!”

No. T’messe was right. That didn’t make sense.

I blew out a breath, “Well. It was a neat theory.” I could feel my mouth pressing into a thin line. I hate being wrong. “Let’s wrangle it upstairs and put it on the reading table in the rare texts room. I’ll have to take a longer look at it to figure it out.”

As a val’Ishi I must confess I have an interest in this tome. Perhaps a visit to your shop is in order…
Don’t forget to bring your exorcism materials… just in case.

My good friend Tukufu, you should have known to call upon me or a cousin before any involvement with an Infernal book. If it’s not too late, I’ll offer protection from any vile forces contained within.

I also know people who would be willing to pay well for such a codex if it contains true information.

Most likely it was written by an Infernal that was bound into service and forced to write it. Such a source both makes it potentially more valuable and potentially dangerous if the Infernal found ways to bypass its commands.

-Comma

Too late! Tukufu has been possessed by the demon of the book!

Well…it would be a very boring story if nothing bad happened to Tukufu! No one wants to read about “Tukufu and the calm Colloquia over Breakfast.”

If he’s reading it over breakfast, at the very least there should be a food-fight for action.