It was also rare that they lived into old age. The dangers of Noreela would take them—the harsh elements; clashes with other wanderers, nomadic tribes or marauders or falling prey to some of Noreela's deadlier wildlife. This man looked ten years Ramus's senior, which Ramus could respect. He carried a longbow over his left shoulder, a quiver of arrows across his back and a short, wide sword in a scabbard strapped to his leg. Ramus could hear the clinks of other weapons secreted beneath his cloak.

They took a table close to the edge of the deck and a server hurried across, ignoring the outstretched hands of several other patrons.

“Savi,” Nomi said, “it's a good morning, and we have a guest. I want a bowl of sautéed river plumes, a selection of bread, a bottle of cydrax . . .” She looked at Ramus, eyebrows raised.

“Sheebok testicles?” Ramus asked. The girl nodded, then looked at Ten.

The tall man said nothing.

“And a bowl of plumes for my guest,” Nomi said. “And Savi? The good plumes. Make sure they haven't dried out.”

“Of course, Mam Hyden.” The girl hurried away to the covered kitchen at the corner of the deck.

“You might as well own this place,” Ramus said.

Nomi shrugged. “Ten, this is the man I was telling you about.”

“The Voyager?” Ten looked at Ramus, appraising him for the first time. “Where have you been?”

For a heartbeat Ramus was ready to curse him. But he sensed Nomi's tension, her simmering excitement, and he was intrigued. Piss, he was more than intrigued, he was interested.

“My main interest is the unnamed mountains, bordering Ventgoria and—”

“I know where they are,” Ten said. “Where else?”

“Pengulfin Woods,” Ramus said. “The Cantrassan coast. Some of the islands of The Spine.”

Ten nodded thoughtfully. “I've been to the Divide.”

The table fell silent. Ramus held his breath, waiting for Ten's expression to break into a mocking smile, but it did not. His eyes were cool, his mouth downturned.

Nomi's eyes glittered.

“No one has been there and returned,” Ramus said.

Ten snorted and rolled his eyes. “You believe that?”

“Of course. I know that. I'm a Voyager, of the Guild of Voyagers. I know three Voyagers who went south for the Great Divide over the space of ten years. No one has seen them again.”

“Haven't they?”

“Stop answering me with pissing questions!”

“Why?” Ten smiled, and Ramus realized he was playing the wanderer's game.

“What's it like there?” Nomi asked.

The wanderer looked past Ramus at the kitchen, lifting his head and sniffing the scent of food on the air. “That's part of my story,” he said.

“Is that where you found what you showed me last night?” Nomi asked.