51 Stoneholm, Corag Reach

Deep in the mountain fastness, Destrar Siescu walked alone, carrying a lantern. The glow stretched ahead into the dark tunnels and threw long shadows behind him. Year after year, Corag miners delved deeper into the living rock, tunneling into the heart of the mountain itself, searching for new veins, gems, or subterranean mysteries.

Siescu's skilled miners claimed they could smell a vein of metal ore and follow its winding path through solid stone. Every Corag destrar had encouraged them to excavate more and more extensively until the mountain range was as riddled as wormwood. Siescu, though, had his own goal in directing the miners to dig deeper shafts.

Holding the lantern before him, he wound his way endlessly downward. Even wearing leather gloves and wrapped in thick furs, he still felt cold. Always. For some unknown reason, Ondun had given his body a smaller, weaker internal spark than other men possessed. His pale skin reddened easily if he spent too much time under the sun; he kept himself covered, even indoors.

Beyond the pool of lantern light, the darkness was intense and impenetrable, but he didn't mind… so long as it was warm. The tunnels were like a womb. Reaching a low point in the shaft, Siescu removed his left glove and reached out to touch the rock with his bare skin, pressing his palm hard against the rough surface.

He thought he felt a warmth there, a residual heat. Somewhere far below, beneath strata of rock, lay the Fires of Creation. Once his tunnels reached them, Siescu would move his main throne room to the heart of the world, where he could finally be warm. He stood for a long time at the tunnel's end, trying to sense the elusive fires through the palm of his hand. His workers would just have to dig deeper and deeper.

Siescu did not know how long he had been away from the main city above, but he saw torchlight, heard footsteps, and turned to see two of his councilors, hurrying to find him. “Destrar! Raga Var has returned with the report you requested.” Both men looked uneasy. Siescu was not surprised, since most men disliked the unruly scout. For his own part, Raga Var was just as uncomfortable among people inside the stone walls of the mountain city.

Reluctantly, Siescu drew his hand away from the warm rock and tugged his glove back on. With a sigh, he followed the two councilors.

Inside his meeting chamber, a pile of dry logs formed a roaring blaze in the man-sized fireplace. The heat felt like a glow of sunshine on his body, and Siescu opened his fur wrap to let the warmth play across his skin.

The scrawny scout was already seated at a dark wooden table with a platter of food before him. He chewed enthusiastically on the leg bone of a roast mountain goat. Though Raga Var had stripped off all of his clothing save for a loincloth, he still sweated in the firelight. His body was all wiry muscle and sinew, and ribs showed at his sides, but he didn't look unhealthy. The shaggy hair and long beard were tangled, like the wool on a mountain sheep. Siescu's barbers had once offered to shear him, but Raga Var vigorously declined.

Seeing the destrar enter, the scout straightened his bony shoulders. “Didn't think you'd get here before I finished my meal.” He licked his fingers and wiped the back of a hand across his forehead. “Why do you keep it so hot all the time?”

“I keep it comfortable.” Siescu took a seat next to him. Dirty, handmade patchwork clothes lay in a pile beside the table; Raga Var must have shucked them off in layers as he waited near the fire. “After spending so much time frozen out in the mountains, I doubt you know what warmth feels like.”

“I know what it feels like now—and I could do with less of it.” He went back to eating while Siescu watched him, smiling indulgently.

The destrar had always liked this man who paid no attention to courts, rivalries, or formalities. Raga Var was an aimless scamp, thrown out of his village because the other families considered him untamable. Siescu had suggested that the near-feral man take up a career of wandering the unexplored mountains, living off the land, and reporting back to the destrar whenever he found something interesting. Self-sufficient out in the wild, Raga Var didn't need money, but a profession gave him something to do. Whenever he came to Stoneholm, the scout was in awe of the huge caverns and titanic stone-walled chambers, though he didn't like to be inside for very long.

Finished with his meal, Raga Var lounged back and gave his report. “I've sneaked over to the Gremurr mines four times now. I found two distinct routes an army could use to cross the mountains. Each has its own advantages, but I know which route I'd recommend.”

“Then I'll accept your recommendation.”

The scout shrugged as though he'd expected nothing less. “It'll take a lot of work. You have strong crews?”

“We have plenty of Urecari prisoners to assign to the labor. Destrar Shenro is sending workers up from his Alamont camps. We'll clear the route before the snow starts to fall again.”

Raga Var picked something out of his teeth. “I can't draw you a detailed map, you know—I'm not a Saedran. I'll have to lead the way myself.”

“I want you to lead us. We'll mark the route, then slave teams with pickaxes and shovels will clear the way. Destrar Broeck is due to bring his mammoths in a few months. The road must be ready by then.”

Raga Var's bony shoulders bounced up and down in another shrug, as if he didn't care. “So long as I don't have to do the work, I can show you the way.”

“I'll organize the teams and equipment we need. Can you come back in a week and take us up there?” He didn't expect Raga Var to stay in Stoneholm for the intervening days.

“I'll be here when you need me.”

The scout pushed aside his finished meal, wiped his mouth and beard with his hands, and gathered his discarded clothes in an armful. “I've got to be going, so I can find a place to make camp before nightfall.”

Siescu didn't bother to suggest that quarters could be found for him inside the mountain city. He bade the scout goodbye, then summoned his chief metalworkers. From now on, his smiths would have to forgo work on decorative jewelry items and concentrate on making armor… enormous armor.