‘Against what, Sergeant?’ asked Jaliel.
‘Necromancy, demons, and anything else you can think of?’
Both Knights patted their hip bags in which they carried their wards.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘We have no idea what we’re going to find down there.’
‘Down where?’ asked Farson.
She pointed south. ‘Down there, in the Valley of Lost Men.’
Farson’s expression communicated just how much he liked that idea, but he remained silent.
‘We’ll rest up for the night, then head down at dawn.’
The men secured their mounts without further comment and then began untacking them. Sandreena unloaded a small bag of grain, then took off her horse’s saddle. The knights groomed the beasts and Sandreena took it upon herself to fill and fix nosebags for all three horses. They knew that they would have to start their return journey within two days, else the horses would begin to starve. There had been no grazing or fodder to be found between their present location and Durbin, only arid tablelands, thorn-covered hills, and the odd dry desert plants that would bloom briefly after a rare rain, but otherwise remained dry and dormant. It was hard to believe that this area ever needed defending.
There was one obvious mystery that Creegan had failed to mention and its omission from the report he had given her surprised Sandreena; why in ancient times had Kesh built a fortress here in the first place? The Trollhome was, as the name implied, the residence of creatures best avoided. Mountain trolls were smarter than their lowland cousins, who were little more than animals, but the desert already provided an effective barrier against them. If she knew that the caravan route had originally only passed by this place, then perhaps then it would make more sense, but as far as she could judge from all the old maps she studied before leaving Krondor, the route ended in the valley below.
She mused over what might be down there; if it were an ancient gold mine or source of some other wealth, sense would dictate that the route ran east, eventually reaching the city of Nar Ayab, and then run on to the capital city of Kesh. She deduced that whatever they had been moving along the route, had travelled from Durbin to this location. Maybe, she speculated, this was the terminus rather than the start, and the trail was a quick supply route from the nearest Keshian city. Which would imply that the only reason for building this fortress would have been to keep whatever was down in that valley, in that valley.
She finished tending the horses and broke out her own rations, and said, ‘Cold camp,’ to her companions. They were both veteran Knights and a night without fire was nothing new to them. They understood there was a strong possibility that someone or something was out there watching them.
They ate in silence, and when they were done, Sandreena said, ‘Jaliel, you have first watch, Farson takes the last.’ They both nodded, but silently thanked her, for as leader she was taking the least desirable watch. She lay down using her saddle as a pillow and due to years of ingrained habit, fell asleep within minutes.
Dawn came hot and dry, which was no surprise, but brought an early wind. The wind was a blessing and a curse; it would stir up enough dust to prevent them from being seen should hidden sentries be posted along the trail into the Valley of Lost Men, but if it was too blinding, Sandreena and her companions risked losing the trail altogether and could find themselves taking a much faster route down to the rocks below.
Sandreena spoke loudly, to be heard over the rising wind. ‘How many demons have you faced?’
Farson said, ‘Two, Sergeant.’
Jaliel said, ‘Seven, Sergeant.’
She said, ‘Jaliel, you bring up the rear in case we get attacked from behind.’ To Farson, she said, ‘Do not do anything unless I tell you. Demons can be very tricky sometimes.’ He nodded. Both knights knew that she was right; she hadn’t asked how many demons they had defeated, because if they hadn’t defeated those they had faced, they wouldn’t be alive.
Sandreena realized that Jaliel had faced two more than her count, but the last had been particularly nasty and without Amirantha’s aid…She silently cursed herself for a fool at the sudden stab of feelings. He was a miserable excuse for a man, a charmer with no substance and his words were nothing but honeyed lies. Still, he knew more about demons than any man she had ever met, and right now she’d put aside her urge to strangle him in exchange for his ability to control the monsters.
‘Grab a tail,’ she instructed.