All great times are painted in blood. But he smiled and nodded, and when she let go he had a chance to look around at their team.

Beko and five other Serians were helping Pancet's men load their gear on the horses. There was a mount for each of them, and two shorter, stockier packhorses with thick legs and wide bodies to carry their loads. The Serians had selected a horse each and were standing close by, some of them whispering to their mounts as they loaded their gear. Ramus saw weapon rolls everywhere, and each Serian was already dressed in their usual garb of thin woolen trousers, heavy boots and leather tunics. All colors were neutral, intended to act as camouflage in whatever terrains they may be crossing. Each carried the usual array of knives and short swords on wide belts around their waists, and three of them had bows strapped across their saddles. There were also several crossbow cases still waiting to be loaded, and some other equipment which Ramus did not recognize.

“So what do you think?” Nomi asked. “You've met Beko, yes?”

Ramus smiled. “He seems pleasant enough.”

“He is.” Nomi nodded, glancing away when Ramus caught her eye. He felt a pang of jealousy, as sharp as it was unexpected. “He's a good captain, his Serians respect him and I've worked with him before. He comes recommended by others too, and I've never heard bad words about him. You know how some of these Serians can get.”

Ramus nodded. Some Serians were occasionally prone to fits of temper, and sometimes rage. He'd never witnessed it himself, but he'd heard tales from Voyagers who had undertaken longer trips. He put it down to the normal pressures that any long journey would present; he'd heard of Voyagers losing their minds as well. He tried not to judge people by their faults, but by their qualities.

“Ramus!” Beko called, beckoning him over. “Please, come and meet my people.”

Besides Beko, there were three other men and two women. None of them looked like someone Ramus would want to pick a fight with.

“Noon,” Beko said. Ramus grasped hands with the short, stocky man and wished good journeys.

“Unusual name,” Ramus said.

Noon nodded. “The time of day I killed my seethe-gator.”

A tall woman appeared by Ramus's side, arriving like a shadow. “I'm Rhiana. Sharpshooter with a bow—more kills than anyone here—and a great cook.”

“She does do an impressive spiced rabbit stew,” Beko said, smiling.

Ramus held hands with Rhiana, examining her tunic. There were too many star studs to count, but he guessed thirty. “Impressive,” he said.

Rhiana smiled. “Thank you.” Her voice was cool and betrayed nothing.

“Over here are Konrad and Ramin,” Beko said. “They're cousins, hence the similarity.”