A guard said, “Drop him there,” pointing to a garbage heap that would be hauled away by wagon at sundown and dumped at a fill a mile or so away from the river. Nakor did as he was bid, and the guard ordered the two slaves to return to work.
Nakor hurried down to the building site, but the Pantathian and the human officer were now gone. He felt a brief regret that he couldn’t study the Serpent priest any longer, and even more regret that “that idiot” had been killed. The man had deserved to have his backside stung, but he hadn’t deserved to die painfully as a poison shut down his lungs and heart.
Nakor worked until the noon meal. He sat on the bridge, now only a few yards from the other bank, dangling his feet above the water as he ate the tasteless gruel and hard bread to keep his strength up. All the while he ate, he wondered what Calis and the others were doing.
Calis motioned for the outriders on the right flank to keep an even line of sight, one man to the next, for a half mile. Signals from the closest man indicated the order was understood.
They had been riding since noon and still had no sign of anyone near the bank. Either the report of those tribesmen being nearby was in error, or they had left the area, or they were, as Praji had said, able to keep themselves from being seen.
Erik watched for any unexpected movement in the grass, but it was a breezy afternoon, and the tall grass moved like water. It would take eyes far better than his to see someone moving through this sheltering plain.
A short time later, Calis said, “If we don’t find something within the next half hour, we should return. We’ll be getting back to the ford in the dark as it is now.”
A shout from an outrider, and everyone looked to the west. Erik used his hand to shade his eyes against the afternoon sunlight, and saw a rider frantically signaling from the base of a large mound. Calis motioned and the column turned toward the rider.
When they reached the base of the hillock, Erik could see it was covered in the same grass as the plains, making it look like nothing so much as an inverted shaggy bowl. Almost completely round, it was some distance from the next rise, the beginning of a series of hills leading toward the distant mountains.
“What is it?” asked Calis.
“Tracks and a cave, Captain,” answered the outrider.
Praji and Vaja exchanged questioning looks, and dismounted. They led their horses close to the cave and inspected it. A short entrance, one a man could enter stooped over, led back into the gloom.
Calis glanced down. “Old tracks.” Then he moved to the entrance and ran his hand over the stone edge of the cave. “This isn’t natural,” said Calis.
“Or if it is,” said Praji, also running his hand along the wall, “someone’s done some work on it to make it more sturdy. There’s stonework under this dirt.” He brushed away the dirt and revealed some fitted stones underneath.
“Sarakan,” said Vaja.
“Maybe,” conceded Praji.
“Sarakan?” asked Calis.
Praji remounted his horse and said, “It’s an abandoned dwarven city in the Ratn’gary Mountains. All of it underground. Some humans moved in a few centuries back, some cult of lunatics, and they’ve died out. Now it just sits empty.”
“People are always stumbling across entrances down near the Gulf,” said Vaja, “and in the foothills near the Great South Forest.”
Calis said, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s hundreds of miles from here.”
“True,” said Praji. “But the damn tunnels run everywhere.” He pointed to the hillock. “That one could be connected somewhere over there”—he pointed at the distant mountains—“or it could simply go back a few hundred feet and stop. Depends on who built it, but it looks like one of the entrances to Sarakan.”
Roo ventured, “Maybe it’s built by the same dwarves, but it’s a different city?”
“Maybe,” said Praji. “It’s been a long time since any dwarves lived anywhere but the mountains, and city folk don’t linger on the Plain of Djams.”
Calis said, “Could we use this as a depot? Leave some weapons and supplies here if we need to come down this side of the river?”
Praji said, “I wouldn’t, Captain. If the Gilani are around here, they may be using this as a base.”
Calis was silent for a moment; then he spoke loudly enough for the entire troop, except for the other outriders, to hear. “Mark this location in your minds. Check the distant landscapes. We may be very needful of finding this exact spot, soon. If we need to break from the camp, for any reason, or fight our way out, if you can’t make straight for the city of Lanada, make for this mound. Those who do meet here, make your way to the south the best you can. The City of the Serpent River is your final goal, for one of our ships should be waiting there.”