The wind flew across the Land of the Gods, carrying heat and sand.<br/>In the late afternoon, when the sun was baking the ground mercilessly, hardening it almost as much as the flames which builders use to harden the luxurious bricks, a small caravan - no more than 40 camels in total - reached the city of Sarganta. Although styling itself as a city, some still used its ilder name: Sarganta kapru, "the village of Sarganta".<br/><br/>That was, one must note in passing, almost entirely due to the ambitions of its so-called Governor, who was by all rights a rabianum who submitted himself to the nearby city of Larsa in exchange for a title. A smart move for some, Larsa was no more than three days of march to the east - but one probably not appreciated by the priests of the local god Sargant, who was now subordinate to the god of Larsa...<br/>That said, if the sprawling metropolis of Larsa wanted to subjugate Sarganta, this move has probably merely avoided unnecessary bloodshed. After all, the huge city was rumoured to have 30 times 60 places with 60 inhabitants. An exaggeration?<br/>Maybe, but not by much. And Sarganta would be happy if it could claim one tenth of that manpower.<br/><br/>Be it as it may, Sarganta was enjoying its new status, with citizens working on renewing the mudbricks used for the walls, as a wise ensi - or rabianum - would do regularly, to prevent natural decay from weakening the defenses. There were rumours the temple of Sargant was opening a new school, and gathering scrolls of knowledge, arranging then in a library. The local bronze- and iron-workers were semi-famous, and it was clear that the local irrigation channel had been worked on: it now extended to almost 50 kubits astride!<br/>Overall, a great place to rest after a week of travel across the sun-baked steppe where camels and sheep grazed.<br/><br/>The road did go in three directions from here - to the doors of Sarganta in the middle, to Larsa, and to the mysterious plateau known as Godslanding, where gods and goddesses were rumoured to sometimes land from the skies. But for now, there wasn't any doubt where the caravan master would have turned to. Even the women in the caravan had heard the men discussing - between themselves, but not far enough to be out of earshot - the advantages of Sargantan slavegirls!<br/>For there were three women in the caravan - not much by the measures of the steppe, which probably contributed to the men forgetting about their presence, and committing the consequent lapses in manners.<br/>Two of the females were travelling together, one of them as tall as most men if not taller.<br/>The third one was a tall girl from the steppes of the far East, and even now had not removed her veil...nor did her hand wander far from the recurve bow slung across her shoulder. The other hand was close to a spear attached to her saddle, for she was - unlike many from her lands - actually ride with a saddle.<br/>Though she didn't need reins.<br/>Some other things she obviously didn't see any need for were known to the whole caravan by now - companionship, conversation, competition - other archers in the caravan had invited her, offering bets, but she'd refused with a sneer. She preferred an archer's distance in conversation - between 3 and 5 cubits - and the most words one had heard from her were when she sang to her travelling companions songs from her country, while they were travelling.<br/>Even now she was waiting for the rest of the caravan to move to the doors, so she could take her place in the rear - at the archer's distance.