The Mirror's Tale (Further Tales Adventures) by P. W. Catanese

what is so bad about a siege?”
    Will rubbed his aching neck. “I suppose you have to do it, sometimes. But it’s such a waste. I mean, the whole point of a castle like this is defense. You’d probably lose a third of your men before you even took the walls.”
    “And is that the only thing that matters? Caring how many men die under your command?”
    Will squeezed his eyes half shut. “Well, sure. It matters a lot. But that’s what’s so awful about war. If you care too much about your men, you’ll lose. That’s one of the five great faults of a commander.”
    Andreas stiffened.
“What
did you say?”
    Will’s face warmed. Had he said something wrong? “Well, I read that there are five big faults a commander can have. One is caring too much about his men. Another one is a bad temper—you know, someone whocan be provoked. Another is recklessness. Another is—”
    “Where?” said Andreas, looming over him. There was a hungry look in his eyes. “You read this
where?”
    “I found some papers in our library,” Will stammered, taking a half step back. “They’re translated from something written a long time ago in some place far away. About war and how to wage it. It’s not complete, though … and some of it’s hard to understand….”
    Andreas pressed one palm against his forehead. “The words of the general of the east. In this godforsaken place.” Those words were directed at the heavens, the next ones at Will. “How many pages? How many are there?”
    “Thirty-five, I think. They’re in the keep. Would you like to see them?”
    The knight chuckled softly. “If you can’t run all the way there, I’ll carry you.”
    Andreas placed the final tattered page gently on the stack. He leaned back in the chair and let out a deep breath, like a man at the end of a feast. “The illuminated mind,” he said. “How it shines, even through the fog of a clumsy translation.”
    “Father says it’s mostly nonsense,” said Will.
    “Nonsense?” Andreas smirked and shook his head. He looked at the pile of parchment as if it was a beloved pet. “These are falling apart* I’ll have to make a copy”
    “Where did it come from?” Will asked.
    “Some place far from here. An unknown kingdom. And it was written long ago. I’ve seen a scrap of the original language, in the kings archives. It doesn’t even look like words, Will—just slashes of ink on the pages. Like little pictures.”
    “Is it Dwergh?”
    Andreas shook his head. “No, it comes from farther away than that. From a land you could never hope to reach. At the far end of the world, with an endless desert and a thousand barbaric tribes between us.”
    “Then how did it get here?”
    “By some miracle. Passed from one wanderer to the next, perhaps. Who knows? But you see the wisdom in these pages, don’t you?”
    Will shrugged. “In the parts I can understand.”
    “Then you’re not the boy your father thinks you are,” said Andreas. He rubbed his earlobe between two fingers, thinking. Then he leaned forward and spoke quietly. “Tell me something, Will. One day, your father will decide whether you or your brother will succeed him. Do you worry about that day—how things will go between you?”
    “No,” Will said. “Bert’s my best friend, not just my brother. Besides, I know he’ll be chosen. He’s like my father. Brave and strong”
    “But what if it was you, Will? What sort of baron do you think you’d be?”

CHAPTER 19
    B ert paced back and forth in his room, stopping when he heard a metallic scrape on the far side of his door. The bolt was sliding open.
Who is it now?
he wondered. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted them all to go to sleep. Then it would be safe to disappear through the wall and go to the mirror.
The mirror!
The thought of sitting before it again made him shiver with anticipation.
    The door opened, and Aunt Elaine came in carrying a covered dish. She smiled. Bert tried to smile back.
    “It