"It was mentioned when I got this," I replied, gesturing toward the wrapped sword on the table.

The badger nodded to himself and pulled one side of the wrapping out of the way. When the sword was fully unwrapped he sat back and just looked at it for a moment. "Excellently preserved. Obviously of Mycherian origin, look at the shape of the handle and the curve of the guard. Of course, I could date it more precisely if it hadn't been cleaned," he said, with a hint of reproach.

I shrugged. "That way when I got it."

The scholar was pulling on a pair of thin gloves. "Pity," he replied, "May I?"

I nodded and he pulled the sword from the scabbard. Either it was behaving itself or maybe the sword only liked me, but there wasn't any glaring light or fanfare, just the quiet, faintly ominous sound of a sword being drawn. The blade glimmered in the light, plain silver along its length. The scholar set it down next to the scabbard and inspected it closely. Finally, he sat back. "Well, it's in remarkable condition. It even appears to have been sharpened recently, along with being cleaned. It is quite fortunate that you brought this to me, I don't believe there are any other scholars within several hundred miles who would be able to tell you about this."

I neglected to inform him that I had discovered that fact already, the hard way. He went on, "As I mentioned, it is not a very popular field of study. From what I can tell, this weapon was made shortly before the Golden Age of the Empire, when..."

"Golden Age?" I interrupted.

"Yes, when the wizard-emperor ruled."

There was an outraged squeal from the table, but it cut off almost immediately. "Did you hear something?" the scholar asked.

I shook my head and he shrugged and continued.

"As I was saying, the sword appears to date from slightly before then. Possibly it was made for some of the squabbles before then."

At my questioning look, he elaborated. "The usual. Succession disputes, rebellions, invasions, that sort of thing. From some artifacts, wall paintings, pots, and so on, most of these problems were blamed on the death of the old king and the disappearance of his heirs. There's part of a pretty typical prophecy, the whole 'And there shall arise One Who Shall be Chosen, and The One Who Is Chosen will Smite the Enemies and Reclaim His Throne...' and so on. The exact translation's back in the back somewhere, but that's the essence of it."

I winced mentally, 'cause that sounded WAY too familiar. "Wait a second, if they were as big as you said, who could have invaded them? Unless across the sea, but that's a dicey proposition."

"Well, I'm not quite sure. Archeology is a difficult task, generations of looters, graffiti artists, plowboys looking for cheap building material...It's not like opening up a history book. This is writing the history books. But, as best as I've been able to tell, the main threat was from some sort of wizard."

The sword seemed to glow a bit brighter than the sunlight should have made it, for a second, but the scholar didn't notice. "'The Conjurer from beyond the sands' he was referred to as. There's mention of him forcing a large part of the Empire under his sway. Then, somehow, he was gone. A rival, or a student, or a hero, or a mob of maddened peasants with pitchforks and torches, or some out of control summoning, who knows. But he disappeared. In fact, the only other mention of him is made at the wizard-emperor's coronation."

"Which sections of the Empire?" I asked, for obvious (well, to me) reasons.

"We don't exactly have detailed geopolitical maps of ancient history," he said, and I tried to look impressed with the big words, "But it included much of this area, a river is mentioned several times, that can only be the Risus. But the really interesting part of all this is why the Conjurer was mentioned at the coronation of the wizard-emperor who apparently brought enough of the Empire back to some semblance of normalcy to claim the title. Portions of his speech were found on a number of things, obviously, he was welcomed. The mention of the unlamented Conjurer is interesting, for he was not a very popular figure, blamed for the death and disappearance of the old royal family."

He was obviously savoring some great shocking secret that I was supposed to be utterly astounded by, so I gave him his pleasure. Leaning over conspiratorially, I asked, "So why WOULD the old boy mention an unpopular magicker the day he's being crowned?"

He smiled deviously. Or at least what he thought was a devious smile. "I didn't tell you everything. He was distancing himself from the Conjurer, because the Conjurer was his father!"