The gates that had once graced the walls, mighty, indestructible, were no more. The road ran on through, wide enough so that a dozen chariots could ride abreast. Darkness greeted them, a deep tunnel that led through the wall, a gloom that seemed to shroud when compared to the bright light of the desert sun that shone at the far end, a glare of gold and crimson.
Vanas dabbed at his face again as they arrived at the gates, eyes nervously drifting up again. Stones seemed to perch precariously above, seemingly poised to fall on those below. “What if they are waiting for us beyond?” he asked.
“Then we will deal with them when we meet them, but I think it not likely,” Ishkinil replied. “Doubtful it is that any after you would be ahead of us yet.”
So saying, she walked her mare into the cast tunnel and the dark. Vanas’ mount, perhaps having picked up on his unease and discomfort, pawed at the ground, almost reluctant to follow. It tossed its head and turned about and as it did so, Vanas caught sight of a cloud of dust rising from the road that led out into the desert.
“Ishkinil!” he cried, seeking to bring his stallion back under control.
From out of the tunnel Ishkinil merged at his cry, and in her hand she wielded a long sword of white, almost like bleached bone, upon which ran eldritch lettering in silver. The air about it seemed stilled and cold.
She stared ahead at the approaching dust, her eyes as cold as her sword. “We need to ride,” she said, wheeling her horse about. “The hunters come. Ride. Now.”
She kicked her horse forward and it surged into the tunnel and the dark. Vanas needed no more encouragement, for a chill hand had grasped his heart and his sweat now ran cold. He wrestled with the stallion, forcing it to follow. He heard it pound forward, its hooves clattering on stone beneath its feet, the sound echoing through the tunnel. He saw ahead of him the silhouette of Ishkinil, her shadowed cloak streaming behind her, framed against the light streaming in through the far end of the tunnel.
Then they were out through it, once more into the eye-piercing sunlight. The empty river that had run beneath the walls snaked out before them, into barren lands, of broken hills and rocky fields. Around them, sheltered beneath the walls, a town had once stood, but now it sat abandoned, with sand stalking the streets and flat roofed buildings, many of which were all but submerged beneath it. So too was the road buried, while great drifts of sand lapped against the base of the gigantic walls that guarded the pass. While the road ran out across the stony wastes beyond, a smaller trail headed south, up into the hills of Khedar Kal.
Ishkinil turned at once after they had emerged, leading her shaggy mare up into the hills along the lesser trail, one that Vanas felt was suited more for a goat than a horse, let alone a horse and rider. Still, he had little choice but to follow, for he did not wish to be left behind on his own.
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“Where are you leading us?” he shouted out as she rode through the sand clogged streets, between crumbling buildings of grey stone.
“A place of shelter, of safety,” she called back over her shoulder. “I do not believe we can outrun whoever trails us, if it us that they are indeed seeking, not across the lands ahead.”
From among the ruins of the town, they climbed up, following a trail that twisted among the crags, steep in parts, where a single misstep could see them tumbling down into ruin. There Vanas saw that lesser walls had once been built, atop the ridge of the hills, these of red mud bricks, that had crumbled and fallen, and towers too, those that they had spotted from the other sides of the hills, that looked out over the deserts. The Gates of Ahkanat fell away behind them and soon were lost to view.
At last the rough old trail led them to a place hidden amongst the hills, where a round tower of stone sprouted, the stone of its construction white unlike any other that they had seen previous. It had broken near it summit, with masonry fallen around it, so that it appeared to wear a misshapen crown. Yet despite that, it still appeared strong and sturdy.
Ishkinil swung lightly down from her mount as they reached it, her sword still in hand. She moved forward with a silent, smooth step, gliding like a hunting beast stalking its prey, to where a door was set in the base of the tower, one of black wood bound with bands of iron.
With great caution she took a gold of the door with her free hand and eased it open, not steeping forth into the opening as she did, for she did not wish to make a target of herself. With the wariness born of long experience, she snuck a quick glance in through the door, just for a moment, before pulling back again. She seemed to relax as she did, for she was no longer as cagey, no longer coiled with tension, as she had been as she approached.
Motioning towards Vanas to follow, she slipped into the tower, silent as ghost, shadow cloaked. Vanas dismounted unsteadily, landing heavily upon the ground. He wiped at his brow before waddling inside to join Ishkinil.
He found the warrior woman standing inside, sword in hand, looking around the interior of the tower. Webs bedecked the walls, and dust shrouded the floor, but little else could see as his eyes became used to the gloom within.
A central pillar ran up to the roof from the centre of the room, into which had been built a fireplace. No signs of stairs could be seen winding up to parts of the tower above, even though the roof was too low for the room to be all that was in the tower.
“What of the horses?” he asked, voice soft, as the place unsettled him.
“They can come in here, with us,” Ishkinil responded. With a last look around, she sheathed the bone white sword in a scabbard of black at her side. Then she slipped out through the doors again, leading in the two horses, one by one. Once all were inside, she pulled the door shut, plunging the room into near dark, for the only light that seeped in came from cracks around the door. In the dark of the room, it was cool compared to the oppressive heat outside. It did not settle Vanas at all, the dark seeming to make the walls close in closer than they were.
“Leave the horses saddled,” Ishkinil instructed Vanas, “For we may have need to leave in a hurry. For now, keep quiet, and watchful and do not move. I am heading out, to scout around, to see the lay of the land and to see if I can spy upon those who were on the road, to determine if they are foe or not.”
Thus saying, she slipped back outside, taking care to make sure the door was shut behind her again, leaving Vanas alone with the horses in the dark.