"Where are your pilgrims, Son Of Dorgamond?" asks the Man riding a bay mare, skimming the plain absently.
The other tisks before remaking from the back of his piebald: "Often are the lame and homeless needy, but the Blessing of Thuul shall not fall wantonly upon them." Dorgan can't figure if the man is talking to him or stating a prayer or verse.
Meanwhile, Morgan creeps toward the crest of the rise, keeping low so that he is not seen... he doesn't recognise either of the two riders. They wear livery of the Temple, not of the City Watch, but there is no temple fortress in Ket... so it follows that these men must be from elsewhere. But where...? Dorgan is thinking much the same thing.
Beyond them, the rear part of the column is coming to a very unprofessional halt. The front third of the force, maybe three-score men, are orderly and well formed. Behind them is a black and white, horse-drawn carriage. Then behind that, the bulk of the force is clearly less disciplined...
"Stay well clear until this lot have fed and passed by, Master Dwarf," concludes the first, "And don't try tagging along if you know what's good for you; we're heading to war!"