journals. He led a force south over his grandfather’s old route and recaptured
the town. Using it as a base, he launched a naval attack around the cape and
finally captured the kingdom of Ilsig, making it a part of the empire for ever.’
‘Which is where we are today,’ one of the urchins spat bitterly.
‘Not quite,’ corrected Hakiem, his impatience to be done with the story yielding
to his integrity as a tale-spinner. ‘Though the kingdom surrendered, for some
reason the Mountain Men continued to resist the empire’s attempts to use the
Great Pass. That was when the caravan routes were established.’
A faraway look came into his eyes.
‘Those were the days of Sanctuary’s greatness. Three or four caravans a week
laden with treasures and trade goods. Not the miserable supply caravans you see
today – great caravans that took half a day just to enter town.’
‘What happened?’ asked one of the awestruck urchins.
Hakiem’s eyes grew dark. He spat in the dust.
‘Twenty years ago, the empire succeeded in putting down the Mountain Men. With
the Great Pass open, there was no reason to risk major caravans in the bandit
-ridden sands of the desert. Sanctuary has become a mockery of its past glory, a
refuge for the scum who have nowhere else to go. Mark my words, one day the
thieves will outnumber the honest citizenry, and then …’
‘One side, old man!’
A sandalled foot came down on the map, obliterating its outlines and scattering
the urchins.
Hakiem cowered before the shadow of one of the Hell Hounds, the five new elite