He was looking forward to the first night camped out beneath the stars. Later, the nightly ritual of setting camp would become a chore, but right now it was something to enjoy. And after food and drink, he knew that the Serians would tell a story.

Like many tribes of Noreela, the Mancoserians passed on much of their past through storytelling. They were a proud, hard people, existing in harsh surroundings and facing severe risks every day. They fished and farmed, fought off frequent attacks from marauding seethe-gators, and then many of their children would leave the island and head for the mainland. Here they took employment as soldiers for the Guild of Voyagers or as mercenaries. They were feared and revered in equal measures, and Ramus had never known a Mancoserian who could not fight.

And every Serian he had ever met had stories to tell. Many a time he had spent the hour before bed enrapt with tales of voyages gone wrong, fishing the violent waters of the Bay of Cantrassa or fighting seethe-gators that hauled their fearsome bodies onto the Mancoserian coastline to hunt, mate or kill.

When they reached the trees, Ramin and Noon relieved the packhorses of their loads, leading the animals to a nearby stream to drink. The other Serians started setting up camp, and Ramus and Nomi erected their own tents. Ramus was pleased that he had not lost the touch. His tent was up before any other, and he sat and smugly watched them finish.

Nomi settled beside him and sighed. “I'd forgotten how much I love the first day and night.”

“I hadn't,” he said.

“Sunset's going to be perfect tonight.”

“It's always perfect on a voyage. Clouds bleed it red, and clear skies turn orange.” Ramus closed his eyes and tried to will away the discomfort in his head. I can feel it all the time now, he thought. It's only when I think back to how I was before that I really appreciate the difference.

“I'm looking forward to my dust meal.”

Ramus smiled, realizing that he was enjoying Nomi's company. Sometimes he thought she was a fool, but perhaps that was his problem more than hers. She was a Voyager, just like him. He breathed in her scent, and felt a momentary sadness at things that could not be.

“What I'm hoping,” he said, “is that we have a group of Serians in the midst of a vicious culinary feud.”

Nomi laughed, and the sun went down.