Thorawn studied the book which Muttu had found, feeling deeply uneasy. It wasn’t so much the book itself that disturbed him. The Order of the Silent Word might imagine that they operated in secrecy but the Conclave knew much more about them than they realised. The Conclave tolerated the existence of the Order because without it Rider life and frequent Great Burnings would not be sustainable. Some practical knowledge had to be preserved and so long as there were no history books or frivolous stories of any kind, there wasn’t a strict prescription against writing as such, whatever some of the more zealous Riders might imagine. Still, the level of knowledge that ought to be permitted within the hidden libraries of the transient towns in the Great Forgetting, was a constant source of debate and friction within the Conclave. Thorawn himself, as a representative of the Trassamul Enclave inclined towards a more hard line attitude than was considered normal in the Conclave, but although he viewed this book with distaste, there was nothing technically criminal about it. It was just a book concerning the care of tamed birds, both for hunting and for harvesting eggs and feathers. However, finding this manual left behind, did suggest that there had been a library here and that this oddly independent Rider who had called himself Alderon had just left with at least a part of its books. That was useful information. The Conclave would need to keep a close eye on the new settlement those people would make. But if the book was only unsettling, more disturbing was the strange weapon the youth had wielded in the ritual combat. Thorawn had fully expected Muttu to dispatch the youngster and had been as astonished as his protege, when it was Muttu who found himself forced to concede. What was that thing the lad had in his hand? Thorawn had never even heard of a klane, let alone seen one. It troubled him greatly. And so it should…