Tomas stood before the center frame stand table, the light from his horn lantern reflecting off the dark, polished surface of the blue calfskin quire.
He didn’t touch the book right away. He set his lantern on the bench, unbuttoned his pack straps, and laid his canvas tool-roll on the wood with deliberate care. In the presence of historical records, haste was an act of vandalism.
“Is it the muster roll?” Kael asked, his voice hushed as he stood between two eight-sided granite pillars, his ash staff resting on the floor.
“We’ll see,” Tomas replied.
He pulled a fine horsehair dusting brush from his kit. With light, level strokes, he cleared the film of white granite dust from the calfskin cover. The leather was stiff as a shingle. But the royal broad arrow and the title line stamped in gold leaf across the top remained clear:
MUSTER ROLL & Supply boss LEDGER · 14TH MOUNTED INFANTRY BATTALION. POSTED AT REDOUBT SEVEN · CAPTAIN EAMON VANE COMMANDING.
Tomas turned the cover. The spine creaked with a dry, stiff groan, the animal glue inside the binding resisting the movement before yielding without fracture.
The first forty pages were standard regimental entries. Names, ranks, enlistment dates, weapons serial numbers, and deduction schedules for lost bayonets and ruined uniform breeches. Each page was signed in the clean, flowing hand of Battalion Scrivener Corporal Orin.
