Komi, working his mount a little closer to them, squinted into the distance under the shade of a sun burnt hand. “Looks like that little cloud might be half a day’s travel from here. But if Your Excellency wishes us to make such an excursion, water is no problem. Our supplies are ample.” His tone was neutral, giving away no more than his expression did; it was impossible to tell what he thought of the advisability of taking such a side trip.
“Then we will do it.” And Wen Chang immediately urged his mount down the side of the hill away from the road.
Midday gave way to afternoon as they traveled. Kasimir sipped sparingly at his canteen, and chewed on some dried meat and fruit. There was a stop to freshen the animals’ mouths with water. In the hours since they had left the direct road to Eylau the country had changed, become more merciless, with smooth desert giving way to low crags and boulders and broken outcroppings of black rock. Here and there the landscape opened before the animals’ hooves in a sudden crevice, compelling a detour. But gradually the wisps of white dust in the sky grew closer.
Komi’s estimate of half a day for this side journey had been only a little too large. But eventually the source of the dust was near enough for them to identify it: a gang of laborers, several score of them, who toiled like well-disciplined ants in the hot sun, under the direction of whip-cracking overseers.
Before the investigators reached the work site, they came upon the recent product of the workers’ labor. It was a road that did not show on the map, obviously newly made. It was a real road, suitable even for wheeled vehicles, as opposed to a mere trail through the landscape, and plainly its making had not been an easy or a pleasant task. As Wen Chang and his party began to follow the road, moving now at increased speed, Kasimir noted where minor crevices in the earth had been filled in, and a steep-sided arroyo bridged with rude stonework, leaving a passage under the bridge for rushing floodwaters when they came as occasionally they must.
The road’s winding course among protruding rocks led Wen Chang and his followers inexorably toward the crew who still labored to extend it. But before the road drew very near the place where its creators were now toiling, it had to turn and run patiently along the side of a ridge. The ridge was a mass of sharp rock twice the height of a man, offering no soft spots to cut through, and no gentle slopes to offer a start for ramp-building. Then without warning the road turned again, almost at right angles, cutting straight and level through the obstacle.
Just as the Magistrate was approaching the smooth-sided cut driven through the rock, he stopped suddenly and held up a hand, halting his small cavalcade behind him. By now the workers on the far side of the ridge were so close that their metal tools, probably steel and magically hardened bronze, could be heard clinking against rock. A dozen or more of the laborers were chanting in surprisingly hearty voices as they worked.
So far there was no sign that anyone among the road-building crew had become aware of the approach of Wen Chang and his party.
A moment after Wen Chang reined in his riding-beast he had dismounted, and was closely inspecting the sides of the cut. Whatever he saw made him nod with satisfaction.
In an instant Kasimir had dismounted too, and was standing mystified beside the older man. But the young physician’s puzzlement was only momentary.
“These are strange marks in the ridge,” he breathed, with something like awe. “Long and smooth and easy, like those a knife or an ordinary sword might make in cheese or butter. I take these marks to mean that the Sword called Stonecutter has been used on this rock.” And he gave Wen Chang a glance of open admiration.
“Exactly so.” Wen Chang looked around, and it seemed to Kasimir for a moment that the Magistrate was almost purring with satisfaction. “Lieutenant,” Wen Chang ordered, “send a few of your men secretly around to the other side of this work camp. If anyone should attempt to sneak out that way when we enter, detain them, whether they are carrying a Sword or not, and bring them to me.”
The lieutenant had made no comment on the discovery of the Sword’s marks in the cut rock, though Kasimir thought he could hardly have failed to be impressed. Now Komi saluted and turned back to his small column to deliver some low-voiced orders.
Presently Wen Chang remounted, and, with Kasimir beside him, and Lieutenant Komi, now attended by only seven troopers, supporting him in the rear, rode boldly forth, through the divided ridge, along the just-completed last hundred meters of the road in the direction of the laborers’ camp. In a moment the first of the scores of workers had become aware of their approach, and the sounds of labor faltered. But almost at once the whips of several overseers cracked, and the chink of metal on stone picked up again.
>From the square of shade produced by a square of faded cloth supported on rude poles, a foreman was now coining forward to receive his visitors. He was a corpulent man of modest height and middle age, wearing over his tunic a broad leather belt with an insignia of the Hetman’s colors, gray and blue. He looked worried, not unreasonably, at the sight of all these armed men in the garb of desert warriors, who outnumbered his small staff of overseers. Still, he managed to put a bold tone into his salutation.
“Greetings, gentlemen! Our road, as you see, is not yet complete. But if you are willing to wait a few days, my brave men here and I will do our best to finish it for you.”
Wen Chang squinted into the shimmering reach of emptiness extending to the horizon ahead of the road-builders, and allowed himself a smile. “My good man, if you continue to labor to such good effect as you did when cutting your way through this ridge behind me-why then I have no doubt that a few more days should see you at your destination, whatever it may be. What is it, by the way?”
The smile had congealed unhappily upon the foreman’s beefy face. “I am given only a general direction, sir, in which we are to extend the road. Beyond that-” He shrugged.
“Of course, of course. It does not matter. My name is Wen Chang, and my companion here is Doctor Kasimir, a physician; and this is Lieutenant Komi, who with his soldiers serves Prince al-Farabi of the Firozpur. And your name is-?”
“I am honored indeed to meet all Your Excellencies! I am Lednik, foreman of this gang of the Hetman’s road-builders, and holding the rank of supervisor both of the Hetman’s prisons and his roads.” Having bowed deeply, Lednik looked up suddenly and slapped both palms upon his leather belt. “Ho, there! Keep those fellows working! No one has told any of you to stop for a vacation!”
These last admonitions were directed at one of the supervisors, and a moment later a loud whip crack detonated in the air above some workers’ backs; the sounds of work, that had once more slackened, hurriedly picked up. Kasimir, looking at the laborers, thought they looked a miserable lot, as who would not, wearing chains and doing heavy labor under the lash?-but still they were better off than some prisoners he had seen, at least well-enough fed and watered. Apparently the Hetman of Eylau and his supervisors were more interested in getting their roads built than they were in mere sadistic punishment.
He realized that Lednik the foreman was looking at him now. With a different kind of smile, and a small salute, the man asked: “Did I understand correctly, sir, that you are a physician? A surgeon too, perhaps?”
“I have a competence in both fields. Why?”
“Sir, a couple of my workers are injured. If it would not be too much trouble for you to look at them-? I appeal to you in charity.”
“It would not be too much trouble.” Kasimir, grateful for a break in the day’s ride, got down from his riding-beast and began to unstrap the medical kit that rode behind his saddle.
“They will be thankful, sir, and so will I. Here, any man who cannot work is useless, and we can spare no food or water for those who remain useless for very long.”
“I see. Well, show me where these injured workers are. I will do what I can for them.”
Working under another simple shade-cloth that served here as the hospital, Kasimir put a splint and a padded bandage on one man’s broken finger. After administering a painkiller he swiftly amputated that of another which looked beyond healing. According to their stories, simple clumsiness had wounded both. With bandaged hands and pain-killing salve, both men ought to be able to return soon to some kind of productive work, and indeed they both got to their feet at once, ready to make the effort.