"Now, my dear, where are you going to put your horse this time? Over here, perhaps?" The kindly voice sounded familiar.
"No!" I heard Sun giggle. "Then your priest will take my queen." Sun was perched on a chair that was much too high for a child, her feet dangling in the air. She was leaning forward over the chessboard in rapt attention.
At the other end of the table, an older man leaned back in his chair and laughed.
"Ah, Sun, I see I am not going to win this round, either!" The man was handsome in his maturity, slender, with his hair dark, apart from some greying at the temples.
Seeing me, Sun squealed in delight and scrambled down from the chair. She ran to me and wrapped her arms around my legs. She looked up at me, and then stepped back.
"You look so pretty." she breathed. Grabbing my hand, she tugged me forward.
"Come and talk to Oghma - you will like him."
"I have a better game for us to play." Oghma said conspiratorially to Sun. "It's downstairs - ask Deneir to show you, while I talk to your friend." To me he said: "I trust you are feeling better? You must forgive Gond; he is unused to being challenged. I hope that you do not mind the liberty I took with your attire - your own clothing and possessions will be returned to you when you leave. Please keep the gown," he said, gesturing at the white robe I wore, "it will enhance you considerable talents. It is the least I can do to express my regret at the indignity you have suffered in my House."
I took a moment to survey the room. It was massive. The floor was paved with the same glowing stone as the stairs had been. In the high curved wall, I saw many windows. Each was carved in the same ached manner as the window and doors I had seen on the floor below, but the view from each was different. Amazingly, I could see ocean, jungle and desert as though they were side by side. Day and night; snow, lightning, sunshine; each framed its own living picture. In front of each window stood a plinth, supporting a stack of parchment. Looking carefully at the stack nearest to me, I could see drops of ink bleed from the parchment and coalesce into a fine, cursive script. History literally writing itself. Deneir bustled around the room, replacing stacks of parchment, examining the work and occasionally making notes of his own. Milil stood at one window, his back to the room. Looking past him, I could see the snowy landscape around Harvest Moon.
"What is this place?" I whispered in wonder.
"We watch and document." Deneir said in clipped tones "We learn, so that we may teach." Oghma rolled his eyes.
"Deneir, you are in danger of becoming an insufferable bore. Please take young Sun down to the Measuring Room - perhaps you will benefit from seeing the joy of learning for yourself once again."
My eyes had fallen upon a large tome, resting on a dais to one side of the room. Honour of the Steel Fang - A Treatise on Battle. I recognised the work, written by a priest of Tempus.
"Do you know this book?" Oghma probed.
"I have read it." I replied, "The followers of Tempus have much to say of honour in battle, but I have seen honourable men slaughter one another in war. The study of theoretical warfare does not always consider that one may face someone across a battlefield who holds his ideals as dear as you do your own."
From the corner of my eye, I noticed that my words had caused Deneir to pause in gathering up his quills, a strange expression on his face. Then he turned to Sun, taking her hand. She glanced sadly at the window where her father stood, before disappearing down the stairs with the scribe.
"Interesting." Oghma mused "You anticipate complications - perhaps the reason why you have succeeded thus far. But you are a mage; how do you see the role of magic in battle?"
Thinking for a moment, I tried to answer his broad question as clearly and succinctly as I was able, discussing the difference between the Netheril and the Illefarn, quoting a variety of authors as references. I also tried to illustrate how arcane and divine magic were complementary, rather than opposites. He nodded as I spoke, and I felt a little foolish - surely he already knew everything I was saying.
"Ah, a true scholar!" he beamed at me delightedly, when I had concluded my impromptu dissertation.
Oghma indicated the seat Sun had vacated.
"Please sit down. If you would spare me a moment of your time, I have some questions for you."
--
"...and so, with the information at your disposal, would you choose the mountain pass or the bridge?" Oghma asked eagerly.
"Neither." I replied tiredly. "At that time of year, the bridge would be flooded and the mountain pass too treacherous. I would wait for the supply boat at the next town and persuade the helmsman to provide passage along the river. Though normally slower, it is clearly the optimal solution in this case."
It was difficult to judge the passage of time in this strange hall, but my throat was parched from talking. Oghma's questions had proved to be an exhaustive interrogation. He had started fairly innocuously, asking about my personal history and my interests, before moving on to questions designed to test my knowledge and my skill at strategy. Finally, he broached the topic of the Wall.
"You have chosen to play a very dangerous game, my young mortal."
I looked into his eyes, feeling the centuries in knowledge amassed behind them.
"I cannot do this alone. Will you aid me?" He smiled at me.
"My dear, nothing would please me more."
I experienced a flood of relief at receiving my first unreserved pledge of support. It was quickly stemmed by my inherently suspicious nature.
"Thank you, my lord. But I would ask that you tell me your interest in destroying the Wall of the Faithless."
He stared at me, his expression betraying nothing of what he was thinking. Then he stood up from his chair, and walked around the table with a graceful, unhurried gait. He came to stand behind me.
"I have no interest in the Wall. The only true power is knowledge. I do not deal in fear - but neither would I learn anything new by opposing those who do." He was quiet for a moment, as though his thoughts had taken him elsewhere. Then he continued:
"But you, my dear... you hold great interest for me. I have not seen another mortal such as yourself, and I am eager to watch as you progress."
His words reminded me of the "spy glass" I had seen earlier. As I was about to ask him about it, an odd feeling of unease came over me. This was not the right time; perhaps later.
Interpreting my silence as trepidation, Oghma asked:
"You have misgivings? That is understandable." He was certainly correct in that regard. My experiences thus far had not been encouraging.
"You have control over what I see, hear and touch in this place. You decide on the clothing I wear. Gond struck me without moving an inch - and he could just as easily have killed me, with a mere thought. I have no power here."
I heard Oghma laughing quietly behind me. I simply closed my eyes and tried to ignore him; I was in no mood to be mocked.
"My dear girl, why do you think you are feared by the gods? We both know it is not because of your sword arm." I smiled weakly at his jest.
"Your arcane talents are formidable - perhaps by now even unparalleled on the Prime - but as you correctly surmise, this is unlikely to impress my colleagues."
Oghma placed his hands on my shoulders.
"Look at the board." Obediently, I looked down at the chess pieces on their black and white squares. "Which piece is the most valuable?"
"The queen."
"Why?"
"It is the piece with the greatest maneuverability."
Oghma leaned closer, speaking quietly into my ear.
"Your mind is a powerful tool. You have used it well in the practice of the arcane arts, but consider that you may apply it in other ways. When battle comes, the question will not be what the White Queen can do, but rather how well she has positioned herself."