It was not a complete lie, for she could imagine that might be part of Creegan’s concerns, but left it at that. For whatever reason the Conclave of Shadows had made alliance with the most important man in the martial order of the worshippers of Dala, and perhaps it was simply that Pug didn’t have anyone else to call upon. Certainly she knew there were few around who had as much experience with demons as she did, for she had destroyed more than her share. Still, for not the first time since departing Krondor she wished that the Goddess—or at least Creegan—had given this promotion to someone else.

“Are you both carrying wards?” she asked.

“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 how much he liked hearing that, but he remained silent.

“We’ll rest up for the night, then head down at dawn.”

Without further comment the men tied their mounts and then began untacking them. Sandreena unloaded a small bag of grain off the back of her mount then took off the saddle. Each Knight carried a brush and began currying their mounts once they had been secured and untacked. Sandreena took it upon herself to fill and fix nosebags for all three horses; the two Knights thanked her. All three knew that they needed to start back within two days, else the horses would begin to starve. There was no grazing or fodder anywhere between their present location and Durban, just arid tablelands, hills covered in thorns, and the odd dry desert plants that would bloom briefly after a rare rain, but otherwise were dried and dormant. It was hard to believe that any of this area needed defending.

One mystery that presented itself—and Sandreena was surprised no one else had brought it up, either Creegan or the author of the report he had her read—was 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 was an effective barrier against them troubling anyone. If she knew where the caravan route had originally ended, perhaps then it would make 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.