"We were not going that way," she told Sanval. "We need to get under the walls of Tsurlagol and bring the western wall down. As the Thultyrl decided."

Sanval looked unconvinced. But before he could voice another argument or strike out on his own, following that mysterious trail of footprints, Zuzzara grabbed him from behind in a friendly headlock. He squirmed, but the half-orc was stronger and quite a bit taller than the officer from Procampur. She leaned over his shoulder to look into his face and show him her grin, full of pointy teeth.

"I owe you my life for being so quick with your blade," said Zuzzara, "so I definitely cannot let you run off and get yourself killed."

To avoid getting his windpipe crushed by Zuzzara's concern, Sanval agreed to stay with the group, but he kept casting glances back at the line of footprints leading away from the bath.

"I should follow them," he said.

"Sweet," said Zuzzara, giving him another hug against her brass-buttoned waistcoat that caused all the breath to leave him with a giant whoosh.

"She's more dangerous friendly than angry," said Ivy, pulling Sanval away. "But she's right too. Sweet of you to want to do your duty. But not proper behavior for an officer."

Sanval's dark eyes widened. "I would never do anything that was inappropriate."

Ivy gave him her most innocent smile. "Then you will want to follow the Thultyrl's orders. He ordered you to go with us and stay with us and help us bring down the wall, didn't he?"

Sanval looked as if he had just swallowed something very bitter. The logic of Ivy's argument was inescapable. Yet, she could see a certain doubt crawled across his handsome features. Would it be more fitting to chase after a possible threat to the Thultyrl or to carry out the Thultyrl's orders and stay with the Siegebreakers?

"It would be best to stay with us," Ivy answered his unspoken question. He looked even more troubled that she had guessed what he was thinking.

Kid trotted back and forth at the entrance to the eastern tunnel.

"Are we going or staying, my dear?" he said to Ivy, clip-clopping a little ways into the darkened entrance.

"Give me your torch," Ivy called to Zuzzara, putting her hand out for it. She took the lit torch from the half-orc and thrust it into the entrance of the tunnel. A long, smooth way ran straight ahead. Strong stone walls and ceiling were clearly visible. It was a tunnel built by humans (or more likely dwarves, added Mumchance). Best of all, it did not look as though it would easily collapse on them.

"It looks like a passage to Tsurlagol," decided Mumchance. "But it might take us farther east than we want, toward the harbor gate rather than the southwest corner of the wall."

"We'll worry about that when we see where we come out," decided Ivy. "We do not have time to try every tunnel. This one looks the most promising to get us close to the wall."

The tunnel ran in a long curve, at times so narrow that they had to go in single file and at other times so wide that four could walk abreast. Kid led, so he could backtrack on the trail of the bugbear's party.

"Quick step, quick step," he chortled as he followed the faint trace of the footsteps in the dust. "They march straight, no pause, no doubt. They are hurrying away from where they came."

"Were they pursued?" asked Ivy.

"Yes, but much later; other feet have passed through here," said Kid. "But the followers miss the arch where we entered and go farther that way." Kid pointed to another tunnel, slanting west and north as far as they could tell.

Bending down to examine the floor, Kid seemed puzzled by some of the marks. "Footprints, here and here, but older tracks too. Tracks of rats on four little feet, tracks of kobolds chasing after the rats, tracks of something with no feet chasing after the kobolds."

"I do not like the sound of that," said Gunderal with a delicate shudder.

"Oh, my dear, these are old, old tracks," said Kid, one ear twitching back and forth in thought.

Ivy wondered if this tunnel had been a good choice. Still it was better than wandering after whatever party that bugbear came from, no matter how much a certain shiny gentleman kept making longing glances over his shoulder.

"What are the freshest tracks in this tunnel?" asked Ivy, convinced that she would not like the answer.

"Those we also saw in the room behind us, big feet and man-sized feet." Kid scratched his nose, obviously mulling over his answer. "And then there were those tracks that hugged the walls and never went to the center of the room."

"You didn't tell us about those!"

"You were in a hurry to leave, my dear. Another group of big feet went tiptoe through the room. The tracks were a little fresher than the dead bugbear that Zuzzara found. Another party of orcs or bugbears perhaps, following the first group. Big hobnailed boots, all of them wore, and there were many treading over the other footsteps."

"Blast." Just what they needed: entire troop movements underground. Could Fottergrim be considering an ambush, using these tunnels to sneak some of his horde outside the walls for a quick attack on the camp? Or was it someone else, with their own secret mission in this rotten, mixed-up, tangled ruin of a dead city with its long buried secrets? "Blast, blast, and blast!" muttered Ivy as she considered their options. Well, there was no way to go back, and whatever way that the bugbears or other creatures had entered, that had to lead to the outside. Get her above ground and in the open air, and she could work out a strategy. Or let her find the foundation of Tsurlagol's current western wall and she would topple it with great pleasure.

"Is there a problem?" As usual, Sanval's tone was courteous and pitched low enough to be discreet.

"Problem?" Ivy gave an exaggerated roll of her shoulders. "No problem at all! Just thinking about the best way to bring down that wall. A good spell blast, maybe."

"Ivy, we found something!" Zuzzara's bellow echoed through the long, narrow tunnel. An open doorway was carved into the wall. To enter the dark room beyond, they had to step up over a broad stone threshold. From the other side, the Siegebreakers could see the lintel of the door was carved with a procession of men and horses, dragging wagons full of jars behind them. The flare of Zuzzara's torch and the light of Mumchance's lantern revealed a long, narrow room with niches carved into the walls, filling the space from floor to ceiling. Neatly piled bones, three or four skulls resting on the top of each pile, occupied each niche.

"Funeral procession," said Mumchance, glancing up at the carving on the lintel. The carved parade continued across the ceiling, and small flecks of old paint brightened the ribbons carved around the spokes of the cartwheels and in the horses' manes.

"We are in an ossuary," said Sanval. "We have these in Procampur too. The dead are taken below the streets once their bodies are burned."

"That is what I love about being underground," said Ivy, "the wonderful things that you get to see, like other people's graveyards."

"Look at all the names on the wall," said Gunderal, going from niche to niche. "I can read them; this writing is not that old. There are whole families in some of these niches: mother, father, children."

"Not here," said Zuzzara, pausing before another niche. This one had a smaller pile of bones than the others, and only one skull rested on top. The skull looked a little lonely, Ivy thought. Gunderal leaned against her sister's shoulder and recited the epitaph inscribed upon the wall, her voice growing softer and sadder with each line.

"As for the name of this warrior, I do not know it,

Nor do I know from what place he came.

But he rode to our walls,

With his banner displayed and flying in the wind.