“Two nights earlier they had arrived at their destination in the featureless Steppe of Famine. The mixed column of horsemen, now some two thousand strong, had been following a tiny stream, one barely adequate to water the mounts each evening. The land was so flat, so utterly without points of reference, that the mind reeled and grew disoriented. Only the sun, moon and stars provided any sense of direction.Blindly, they had followed the directions of the Turanian mage, Khondemir, and unerringly h...e had guided them to this place, the City of Mounds. This was the sacred burial ground of the Ashkuz, where the clan chiefs and Kagans had their funeral mounds. The sides of her tent were rolled up for the sake of ventilation, and she studied the eerie scene around her with dread. This was an uncanny place.A high, earthen rampart enclosed a burial ground many acres in extent. The entire area was filled with the mounds. Some were as tall as a man, but many were three or four times that height. A few were immense, towering to crests eighty or more feet above the level of the steppe.Atop many of the mounds were standards bearing the skulls of beasts and men and varying numbers and colours of horses' tails.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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