Lord Marillac thought of little else the past four days. He had been called away to the dwelling of a lesser lord on urgent business. He rode thither with an experienced escort and left Echo Slope in capable hands, but those near noticed a distracted aura about him. None guessed his anxiety at heading away at such an important time. Now finally back in his castle, he meant to investigate the insignia of which Anthanasius informed him.


    He headed, after greeting Lady Marillac, directly to the infirmary and met Oblate Joseph on his way out.


    “Good wishes to you, Lord Marillac,” said Joseph.


    “And the same to you, oblate,” he replied. “Might I have your name?”


    He bowed and said, “Joseph of the Holy Cloth, sir.”


    “Ah, Joseph; a wonderful name. You must be new here. If it wouldn’t trouble the wounded,” he continued, “I desire to look around inside.”


    “Certainly; no trouble at all,” he replied, smiling. “Please follow me.”


    Joseph opened the door and led Lord Marillac in. It delighted Lord Marillac how few occupants there were; a sure sign of the monks’ abilities. He passed a few encouraging words with some of the invalids and then continued following Joseph for the tour.


    Coming to the end of the room where it met another running lengthwise, Joseph started superficially describing all the various instruments, what each cabinet contained, and so on. Presently another older man joined them. He wore the same simple habit as Oblate Joseph and carried his prayer beads not in his cincture, but in his hand. Lord Marillac knew the man as Brother Walter.


    Lord Marillac listened with genuine interest to all the monks showed him, but he kept watching for the sign. At length the tour ended and Lord Marillac heartily expressed his thoughts. “This is a wonderful place and I know you do great work for all under your care. I am exceedingly grateful for all your work,” he said, and then continued, “I’m also looking for a sort of sign, an insignia if you will.”


    He then proceeded to describe to the two the shape of what he sought and that Anthanasius saw it in the infirmary before his departure. Joseph answered. “I believe I know what you seek, mylord.”


    He walked over to a point in the room they saw midway through the tour and stopped before a well-worn dark oak chest with many small drawers. The middle-aged and the older man followed. “Could it be that?” Joseph queried as he pointed to a faded and worn engraving in the stone wall much above eye level.


    “Yes, truly that is it,” Lord Marillac eagerly said.


    “I don’t know what it is,” Oblate Joseph said, leaning on a hunch that the lord would ask him but, still wanting to offer something useful, he volunteered, “It’s at least tenscore years old.”


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    He raised the pitch of his voice at the end of the sentence and looked towards the older man, indicating a question. He took the hint and said, in a calm and soothing voice, “That is correct. This portion of the castle dates back to the civil war some three hundred years ago. I’m not sure the original use of this room, but could search if you would like.”


    “Please do- right away if you can,” urged Lord Marillac.


    “I can,” he answered simply. “Follow me if you wish.”


    On the way out, Brother Walter stopped to talk to every awake occupant. Lord Marillac marvelled at his tenderness. “Luckily there aren’t many,” he thought to himself, and by the time they stepped into the outer passage, he greatly increased his capacity for patience. Brother Walter didn’t hurry, though, and walked with a measured step while passing his beads through his fingers.


    Lord Marillac walked behind with Joseph and talked intermittently with him. Though walking slowly the older man soon stopped at a door and turned to them. “Do come in, won’t you.”


    They followed him through the door to a well-worn room also in the older part of the castle. From the small bed to one side with an end table beside it to the table in the center with thick posts for legs, stout and sturdy objects filled the room. His chamber matched the old man admirably and he immediately made his way to another table against the wall. On it sat four books also perfectly matched to the room; thick, well worn, and faded.


    Brother Walter gently picked up the oldest of these and shuffled over to sit on the edge of his bed with a grunt, recommending the two chairs at the table to the others with a gesture. Joseph picked up the one that appeared newest before he sat down and he and Lord Marillac examined it.


    They discovered it contained a recent history of Rohia. Lord Marillac looked up and asked the brother, hunched over and engrossed in his tome, if they erroneously selected a journal.


    “No; you may look at that one,” he said, looking up. “My journal is over there.” And he indicated two books- closer to stacks of papers they were so tattered- sitting on his bedside table.


    He resumed work and the others did likewise. Joseph slowly flipped the pages but did not get far before Brother Walter made an exclamatory remark drawing them near in curiosity.


    “Did you find it?”


    “I did. I knew it was about here.”


    He said nothing for a while but pondered over the pages. Lord Marillac’s impatience got the better of him and he asked, “What does it say?” And he looked over to the pages the man turned ponderously through.


    “This is difficult to read…”


    Lord Marillac looked closer and saw, despite the brilliant illuminative works in gold, red, and blues along the sides, the handwriting defied his ability. Looking yet closer he realized that even once he discerned individual letters he still couldn’t recognize the words.


    “Can you read it at all?” he anxiously asked.


    “Most of it eventually,” he said. Then he looked up and continued slowly, “I’ve translated some for my own curiosity. It says Sensian’s rebels resented all Rohians and not only King Claude. It will take some time to provide the rest of the translation, though.”


    Brother Walter set the book to the side and stood up slowly, bracing his hands on his knees. Lord Marillac stood also, picking up the book and handing it to his host.


    “Thank you for your assistance; it is invaluable. I look forward to learning what more you come up with.”


    Joseph replaced his book on the table and Brother Walter said, “We’ll start right away.”