Luke wandered through the hills of the Hinderith, only Simen keeping him company. It was a mild autumn day but still hot enough, a little sun peeping occasionally through the clouds, and the promise of a slight drizzle keeping the flying insects excited. A few birds chattered softly in the sparse trees. Down below the two horses and their riders, a stream splashed its way across a broad flat channel.

They rode down and dismounted. The horses wandered to find a place where there was sufficient depth to drink. The men squatted and cupped their hands to take in the cool water. They sat back and ate from their supplies, keeping an eye on the horses to prevent them from straying.

“There must be something we can do, Simen. Surely it can’t be this simple to run the countries.”

“There are plenty of people running things, sir. You are a ranger and free to roam. Just meeting people and talking to them is easy enough and helps us all keep together. We can just take a break. We don’t explore these parts often. You told me how you used to venture up the other side of these hills as a teenager. We can go over the whole land now with our horses. As long as we don’t get too close to Elenea. We even have maps, thanks to Marcos.”

Luke untied the parchment and laid it out carefully on an area of dry grass. “I have this in my head but it’s worth looking at the pictures. Have hardly been in this part of the land before, we’ve spent so much time in the south. We’re here. Let’s cross this way over the pass and down again to the sea. These cliffs are grassed on top so we can walk across to the lodging house here. What does this symbol stand for? It looks like Bandit but slightly different.”

“Peratis. Pirate Point. They’re just bandits who live on the sea shore. Did you not have pirates around Northcliff? People who don’t farm but find their food by pulling it from the river or sea?”

“After a fashion. There were legends, too. I remember now. But they were very confusing. Something about living in trees planted in the water.”

“Peter the Pirate. He lived in a tree and when he said the magic word it would float up and carry him wherever he wanted. A great way of getting round the cliffs.”

“So how do you know about that one? You lived almost in the Borderlands, miles from the sea.”

“Yes. About as far as you can get. But if you stand on the hills you can see it in the distance. And of course I had relatives who lived near the coast.”

“Besides it wouldn’t have been Peter. It was Pitthor if I remember, I have heard it before when I was a boy. You make him sound Elenean.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” said Simen mockingly. He picked up a dry twig and broke it into several pieces which he reassembled into a passable imitation of the Elenean national symbol. “It’s the factions that are fighting. Elenea will always be there. After all it is the most civilised country in the world.”

“Maybe,” said Luke, thinking of Trantrith. Even now, few people knew exactly what was up there. Simen had been there with Luke but did not really know more than the outline of the land.

They rode up a gorged valley which unusually did not steepen much as it reached the head. A colony of seabirds guarded their nests. Simen squinted over at the top of the cliff. “Looks like the birds are flying in from Asrith. We’re in for an early winter.”

“Flying over from Asrith. I never knew what it meant. I thought the gods were supposed to fly over from Asrith.”

“Well, yes. Maybe someone told his kids about it and they thought he said gods instead of birds. And forever after we’ve all got it hopelessly wrong.”

Luke laughed at the sacrilege. “I hope the gods don’t hear us. Morian would die if he thought all his efforts were being wasted on a flock of birds. But no, Hartor thinks the Old Ones could fly in the air. I wonder where they go to.”

“The birds? There must be other lands in the south where it’s safe to go when the weather gets colder. Anyway that’s beside the point. Is it possible to climb the cliffs?”

“Climb the cliffs? That’s prohibited.”

“I know. But you can do it, can’t you?”

“Of course. All Atheleans can. But only in teams, and only enough so we would be able to do it in an emergency. Too dangerous. Imagine the scandal if our bodies were found at the foot of a cliff in the Hinderith.”

“Well how about finding somewhere a bit easier? Something that’s not prohibited.”

Luke pointed up the slope. “See above the cliff there? There’s a cleft in the mountainside. Somewhere up there there’ll be easy climbing. Let’s get the horses.”

The cleft was almost sheer but the surrounding mountainside was well fractured and had plenty of protruding rocks. Luke selected a starting point with an easy gradient.

“Have we got enough rope?”

“What for?”

“To tie the horses of course. They could wander down any of these valleys if we leave them.”

“Oh yes. Here.” Fixing the horses to a large boulder they embarked up the slope.

“So this is climbing?” asked Simen, clambering over the scattered rocks. "Why did we not do this in the Trantrith hills?"

“No reason. Except for taking horses up the easiest slopes. But that’ll be climbing,” said Luke pointing further uphill. Ahead of them a steep slope was covered with exposed boulders. Beyond the slope the hilltop reached into the lower part of the cloud.

“We’re going to the top?”

“I think we’ll settle for the tree line. It’s getting into the afternoon already.”

Simen proved a natural expert at the rough scrambling. Luke caught up with him, panting.

“I thought you hadn’t climbed before.”

“Oh, I messed about a bit in our low hills when I was young. But when we were boys we used to have races up and down trees. We had two huge ones near my house. We’d throw each other’s shoes as high as we could then have to go and fetch them. My parents hated it. They told us we’d die but we didn’t. I wouldn’t let my own children do it though. Things seem much more dangerous nowadays.”

“We had plenty of training in tree climbing and even slept in them. There are loads of trees in the Forest of course.”

“Eventually one of the trees blew down in a storm so we couldn’t do it any more. We didn’t have so many by our farm.” He watched Luke’s eyes, looking at something further ahead.

“What’s that?” asked Luke.

“What?” Simen followed Luke’s finger but could see nothing.

“Two valleys away, just below the top. It’s a man-made structure. See the straight lines? I reckon it’s a building. A big one.”

“Well let’s go and see.”

“No, let’s climb higher and see if we can get a better view.”

They took a look down at the horses, peacefully nibbling what grass they could find. Simen was surprised to see them so far below.

“They’re several tree heights down but it's not that far. Wait till we’re up high.”

It took half an hour to reach a vantage point a little below a bare ridge. Sitting in the shelter of a stone hollow they gazed down. They could see farms in many of the valleys, but the particular structure that interested Luke was sat starkly on the top of a cliff facing the sea.

“It’s a shrine, presumably,” said Simen.

“There are no houses nearby. It’s on its own.”

“Maybe to keep it holy.”

“Or to stop people wandering up.”

“Why so suspicious?”

“Nothing. It just doesn’t quite fit in. And too blocky and solid for a shrine. More like a military building but huge.”

“Well let’s go and see then. We are in charge of this country after all.”

“Okay. Tomorrow.”

*

The hostel keeper at Peratis welcomed his two important guests and led the men round to the stable.

“Don’t get many visitors at this time of year, a few soldiers maybe. Of course they all come on horses nowadays. When we moved here it was an hour’s walk to the nearest house. We only did it from time to time. But now we’ve built new huts and keep a couple open all year round. There are more farms so we have neighbours. In summer we get holidaymakers. They bring food or livestock or do some work for us.

“So you must have moved here when Wolf was starting to make his presence felt,” said Luke.

“That’s right. We lived at Spring Cove before, not far from where the town Chelona is growing up. He moved into our area and we left for somewhere more remote. Then Marcos came and settled the region. It’s much better now. We could move back if we wanted but you get to like it here high above the sea. We do all our own food and clothes and can get people to come and help us with the heavy work. It’s a bit less isolated than it used to be.”

“That seems to be true of the Hinderith as a whole. When I was a boy it was thought to be almost uninhabited. Now the world seems to be shrinking all the time.”

“There’ve always been a few families out here. But it was a bandit’s life. And before the horse it was difficult to travel. But my parents survived here. And previous generations. I guess you get used to hard living don’t you. Anyway let's go into the main house and I’ll make you a drink.”

They sat among pots and earthenware and assorted oddments. Things were scattered, not like the well kept houses Luke was used to. Their host brought out mugs and hot water.

“Sorry about the mess, sirs. I’ll get my wife to tidy up before dinner. And I’m afraid the drinks must be far below Elenean standard.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure Elenea doesn’t do much trade with the Hinderith so you must find it hard to obtain things.”

“Yes. By the way, we don’t call it the Hinderith out here. We call it Gallea.”

“Oh, sorry. I haven’t heard that name before.”

“No, it’s quite new. We used to call it Aborelea but Gallea seems more modern. It was Marcos’s idea and we all adopted it pretty quickly. It’s nice to feel that we have a civilised country of our own.”

“Yes, of course. He has a lot of influence here, doesn’t he?”

“He’s done wonderful things for us. We have a lot to be grateful for.”

“Yes. He must taken a lot of your people on campaign with him?”

“You can’t imagine how they were queuing up to go. Both my sons are with him. In the Blues. He has a good army. There’ll be plenty of tales to tell when they get back.”

“I’m sure we could learn a lot from you. I hope Athelea will grow ever closer in future years.”

“It would be good for trade, certainly. We’re very different people here, though. We’re proud of the way we’ve built up our country. Don’t think we’re not grateful to you. But many people here think of Atheleans as easy living types quickly overrun when trouble arose. We wouldn’t want to be ruled too closely by them.”

“Of course not. Gallea deserves to be a separate country and always will be. I will fight harder than anyone to preserve your independence.” He wondered whether his words sounded false. Hartor did not want the Hinderith to become strong and Luke had to be wary of the prospect too.

He was thoughtful after dinner and took the opportunity to sit alone with Simen.

“What we saw today, what do you reckon? On sober reflection.”

“Hard to tell really. It’s a building of some sort. People don’t live there.”

“You sure? There’s no sign.”

“I’m sure. I can’t point to anything in particular but there were no dogs. Nothing is being grown there. It must have been used for something at one time.”

“You said you think it’s something military.”

“On appearances. But I don’t get where they grew their food when it was in use. Large buildings always have farms below to keep them provided.”

“And where would the water come from? The stream is not large enough to supply even a small dwelling. It must be totally dry in summer. We’ll go up and take a look. We can examine it from the outside, no danger.”

“We can go on foot. It’s not far and we have all day. Kind on the horses to give them a rest.”

Luke relaxed. The chairs in this house were made of filled matting, easy for sprawling on. He thought of their landlord, just checked for any sound that someone might be listening but he knew the man was in another hut.

“What do you think of the loyalty of the Hinderith? Or Gallea. I’m not sure I like the idea of a region renaming itself and becoming a country.”

“Well they all seem to support you. There’s no problem. They’re fanatically loyal to Marcos.”

“And if it was between us?”

“That doesn’t seem very likely. He doesn’t cause you any problem.”

“No. Of course not. I’m just worrying too much. That’s the problem with not having enough to do.”

“It gets too easy after a while. Still we’ll go and investigate that building tomorrow. We’ll get a good view of the sea too. That should take your mind off these idle diversions.” Simen opened the shutter and looked out at the starry blackness. “I’d like to see the birds coming over.”

*

The morning was unseasonally clear. Only the lightest clouds wisped across the heavens, leaving the bare rocky peaks clear to view. Their host insisted they did not have to do anything for him but Luke managed to find some loose timbers in the roof and they spent an hour forcing wooden blocks underneath to provide support. Mid-morning they finally tied their packs and leaving the horses in his good care walked an hour to the hill they had observed the day before.

The building was on the very top of the hill and as Luke had predicted was not properly supplied with either water or farmland. They walked once around it, a distance of at least a league. There was a main gate leading in to a pair of closed doors but also an archway leading to a smaller door which over the years had fallen off its hinges.

“You think it’s safe?” asked Luke.

“You’ll be the judge of that. Structurally it looks fine. Can’t see any mess inside, no hint of animals or anything. Safe as anything of the Old Ones could be.”

Going in they climbed steps which went up and round and half way to the top they stood looking out of a draughty opening in the stonework.

“This was built to have a view over the sea,” said Simen. “Down there is where the sea turtles come in, the hostel keeper’s wife told me last night. Just as they do on the southern bay where it juts out to sea. The town will be down there too, can't quite see it. This is a military building. It wasn’t built to watch over turtles. They must have been anxious about other people coming over the sea to attack them.”

“Hartor thinks that can be done. He says they had carts that could travel over water. He told me sometimes you can see them below the sea edge at places where the land is not too steep.”

“But this building was not used by the Old Ones, you still think?”

“No. It is more ancient. Look, there are no relics, where is all the detritus we have to chuck away when we take down one of their houses? And no skeletons, they make me shiver every time I see one. Don’t suppose anyone has been here in all the generations. Not even occupied at the time of the Old Ones. It must have been built by an older cycle of civilisation. Look at the stonework.”

The building blocks were neatly shaped, so large they could not have been carried by ten men. Maybe ropes, maybe horses, Luke thought. They must be grooved top and bottom so as to fit in place with no extra support. Food and water would have had to be brought up from the land below. The Old Ones buildings he had seen were either of small bricks, or massive seamless stone which crumbled and split over the years. It was too much to contemplate. There was a metal bar across one of the openings in the wall, he stroked it idly and contemplated the brown powder that rubbed off. Underneath was a type of metal.

“Ow, dammit,” he cried, jerking his finger back, sucking it to get the blood out.

“What happened? You need help?”

“No. Cut myself on the metal. It’ll be fine, it won’t get infected as long as I let it bleed out. Haven’t seen this type before.”

Taking his knife he tapped it against the bar. It made a high pitched sound.

“Hartor said there are other kinds of metal, too tough to be melted and refashioned. You have a flint?”

Simen had a stone dagger and Luke struck it against the metal. He could see the stone was harder than the metal, it left a small impression, but he thought also he saw a spark. He tried it several times.

“This metal makes tiny fire. Probably not particularly useful, we can produce fire from Hartor’s tool when the sun is shining." Taking the glass from his backpack he polished it on his clothes. Holding it at the right distance he made the metal look bigger, examined the sharp edge that had cut his finger, compared it to the edge of his dagger. “Interesting to know anyway.”

The way on the stairs was easy, it put Hartor’s rough steps to shame. The top of the building was sound and they stood on a turret looking over the sea, careful not to press against the edgings. Behind then the vast bulk of the building lay unexplored. The Outland clearly visible in the distance.

“That’s where their enemies came from,” said Luke. “But if it was not in use maybe they had stopped coming.”

Simen was hardly listening. His gazed was fixed in another direction, parallel to the coast. Squinting he tried to make out distant flags.

“There’s a semaphore on the hills, sir,” he said. “Can’t read it, must be a different language.” Luke turned, the blue and white flags were just about visible. He could not read them either.