Chapter 17
The Library of Nith
‘At worst, a library is nothing more
than a mausoleum for the intellect.’
Some seven days’ journey east northeast from Mirrindale lay a region of the Elven Kingdom that was greatly varied; it was rich in hardwood forests and orchards, vineyards and wide fields of berries, currents, small mixed farms, low-laying meadows and marshlands teeming with wildlife, and many lakes abundant with fish and waterfowl. In the southwest corner of this region lay Nith, fairest of all Elven cities.
The architecture therein was of a classic mode, executed overall in clean straight lines and graceful arches of surpassing perfection and beauty, and built of white stone. Her elegant streets and courtyards were flagged with coloured stone and tile mosaics, and both were lined with tall oaks, elms, maples, poplars, flowering ornamental plum, and dwarf-apple trees.
The city was surrounded by a high stone wall, but like the city’s buildings its purpose was more ornamental than practical. To say the city was otherwise poorly defended would have been an understatement. To make matters even more precarious in the general scheme of things, Prince Cir had seen fit to withdraw most of the city’s soldiers, his soldiers, on some alleged errand.
The occupants of Nith knew little about the events in Mirrindale and the West of the Elf Kingdom. The truth be known, they weren’t overly concerned about events to the South and Northeast, either. For one thing, they were of different stock, these Northern Elves, or M’or-Agi, as they referred to themselves. As far as they were concerned, their remote cousin’s troubles where the King and Prince Cir were concerned were just that- remote.