"Someone is feeding an army."
The words hung in the cold air of the quarry, their weight pressing down on them like the mountain itself. Jeric's face hardened, his military training overriding the shock.
"Torches," he ordered, his voice sharp. "Now."
As the guards scrambled to comply, Cassia stepped closer to the tunnel entrance, her eyes adjusting to the darkness within.
The air flowing out was cool, dry, and carried the scent of many people living in close quarters. Unwashed bodies, cooking fires, damp wool, and something else. The sharp tang of weapon oil.
When the torches were lit, their flickering light revealed a passage that defied expectation. These were not natural caves or hastily excavated tunnels.
The walls were reinforced with timber supports so new they still smelled of fresh sap, the floor was graded and covered with packed gravel, and at regular intervals, ventilation shafts disappeared upward into the mountain rock.
