Nomi and Pancet concluded their business and the fat man turned, sauntering back up the hill and opening his arms to welcome his herd of children once again. They jumped at him, laughed and darted between his legs, and he ruffled their hair.

“We need to move out quickly,” Ramus said to Nomi. “First chance he gets he'll be spreading word about us.”

“Why should he?”

Beko joined them, signaling his Serians to mount up. “Because he's a bully,” he said, “and he couldn't bully our destination from you.”

“You've dealt with him before?” Ramus asked.

“Several times. He's not a nice man.”

“I've heard the tales.” Ramus nodded across the yard at a round stone structure. “Rumor has it his first three wives are rotting down that well.”

“Nice,” Nomi said. “And now that you've both convinced me, let's get the piss out of here.”

Beko grinned. “Spoken like a true Voyager.”

The Serians were already mounted up and stroking their horses' necks, whispering and whistling to them, and at a word from Beko they moved out.

Ramus had not ridden for some time. Ramin had been good to his word, securing Ramus's traveling gear to the horse's saddle, but still Ramus felt like an amateur. He mounted easily enough, but he dropped the reins several times and his foot missed the stirrup. Nomi and Beko left the yard ahead of him, and as he finally rode out, he looked up the slope after Pancet. The big man was standing by an open door, one hand raised to his mouth, holding a new chunk of meat, the other slowly rising to bid them farewell.

Ramus did not return the wave.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

NOMI RODE BESIDE Beko at the head of their small group. It felt good to be in the saddle again. Since the end of her second and last voyage to Ventgoria she had only ridden a handful of times. She sometimes went riding with friends up into the foothills of the Marrakash Mountains, but each trip took several days, and it cost a lot in protection. Many people had gone into these mountains and never returned, and while Nomi believed most of them simply lost their way and fell victim to hunger, hidden crevasses or cold, some talked of cloud-creatures in the high passes that viewed travelers as succulent treats. Many who spread such rumors were mercenary Serians who benefited from the protection payments.

She was glad that not all Serians were so deceptive. When she had ridden with Beko before, she had found him to be open, honest and simple. Not unintelligent—not at all—but his life was uncomplicated. He worked for the Guild, he went on journeys and in between he lived a comfortable life in Long Marrakash, with no real worries or troubles. No harsh Mancoserian wind-seasons to contend with. No seethe-gators slinking from the shallows when the moons were on the wane.

“Are you happy, Beko?”