Now she knew she had to get closer to this structure and see if she could make any sense of what was occurring here. She waited until she saw the elf turn his back to watch the trail above, and she hurried across what felt like a vast open space, moving as silently as she could, until she found more rocks behind which to shelter. Holding her breath so she could hear any hint of alarm, she waited. Only the distant sounds of working from the fortress distilled the silence of the desert night.Where was the wind when you needed it? she thought, then off she went, moving around the perimeter, seeking a place that would allow her to get closer to the construction.
Sandreena crouched below some empty wagons; their traces were empty and there was no sign of the mules or horses that pulled them. She doubted those inside stabled their draft animals. They most likely just ate them. The venture had all the appearance of a one-way enterprise, with the final destination stretched out before her. She felt as if she might scream from frustration, but fear and caution combined to keep her focused and silent. There were so many questions plaguing her, but all she could do was creep around in shadows and continue to observe.
The massive gate was currently open, allowing Sandreena tantalizing glimpses inside. Her mind reeled at the image of dwarves, humans, elves, and even a troll, labouring under the watchful eye of demons. It looked as if they were using mortal beings as slave labour, something unimagined in the annals of all the demon lore she had been exposed to. Now more than ever she wished Amirantha was here, and not because he had broken her heart and she wanted to punish him; she needed him to make sense of the tableau before her.
A demon overseer hove into view. He paused, staring in her direction for a moment. She felt her heart jump and she held her breath. She had never faced a demon as formidable in appearance as this one. It had the head of a deformed ape, with two upswept ears, a grotesque parody of an elf’s, and it wore a massive chest piece with a human skull set in the middle like a heraldic device. The monster’s shoulders were covered with black steel spaulders that swept up and ended in gold tipped points. Its legs were covered in black armour, and it wore a circlet of gold with another skull set in the brow. The massive sword it carried in its right hand pulsed with an evil red light.
The demon sniffed the air, then after a moment turned away and shouted something to one of the humans. The human bowed and hurried off.
On top of the walls workers scrambled up wooden scaffolding to hoist large stones in order to raise the massive arching columns. Now that she was closer, Sandreena could see that the columns were being installed with great care and she could see their placement being watched closely. Two robed men studied the scene, and when the stones were in place, both began an incantation. The sound of their words was lost, but the feeling that descended upon her as she watched this part of the construction filled her with cold fear.
Something gigantic, impossible to decipher, and holding no good purpose was being fashioned here by demons, who oversaw a workforce of mortal workers and mages. None of this made any remote sense to her, and she knew her cause would be better served if she started back now, to make sure her report reached Father-Bishop Creegan. What she had seen could not wait for a messenger, even by fast ship or swift rider; she would rather make the voyage to Sorcerer’s Island. Pug and his confederates had devices that could get her to Rillanon in days instead of weeks; the island was far closer to Durbin than Krondor, and a great deal closer than Rillanon. Besides, she thought in passing, the last place she had seen Amirantha had been on that cursed island.
Yet her curiosity tugged at her, for she wasn’t sure she had seen enough. Perhaps more information could be gained.
As she mused, she heard footsteps approaching from behind, and by the time she had turned, the dwarf warrior was charging towards her. There was something in his eyes that warned her that she had no time to waste on discussion. He carried a short sword and swung it with deadly intent.
Sandreena managed to roll out of the way and get to her feet, slipping her shield off with a single motion and reversing it so she could slip her arm through the straps on the back; she had her sword up just in time to block the dwarf’s following strike.
The shock that ran through her arm as she took that blow made her realize this was no untested swordsman she faced, but an experienced dwarven warrior who would offer no quarter. She had never faced one before, not even in a practice melee, their fortitude and prowess were renowned. She knew she could not wear him down; he could fight until she collapsed from fatigue and then dance on her grave. She certainly could not overpower him, and she doubted she could disable him. Her only hope was a quick kill.
Two strikes and the dwarf hesitated, and Sandreena noticed that his eyes were slightly unfocused, but she was nearly over-whelmed by an unexpected sensation. She had fought in more than a score of life or death battles, and three times that amount against men whom she was only trying to subdue. She had experienced every type of male body stench, and a few females, and thought nothing of it, but she had not anticipated that dwarves might stink like demons.