Dilladrum returned. “This is the village of Oudorro. I’ve been here many times. Although Tenkin, they’re a friendly and generous people. I’ve asked them to let us rest here for the night. Tomorrow morning we’ll push on toward the Palace of the Four Winds. Beyond this point, travel will be much harder and unpleasant, so we’ll need a good night’s rest. I must caution you, however: please do nothing to offend or provoke these people. They’re courteous but can be fierce if roused.”

The physical appearance of the Tenkin always impressed Hadrian. Staul was a crude example of his kin, and these men were more what he remembered. Lean, bronzed muscles and strong facial features that looked hewn from blocks of stone were the hallmarks of the Tenkin warrior. Like the great cats of the jungle, they had bodies graceful in their strength and simplicity. The women were breathtaking. Long, dark hair wreathed sharp cheekbones and almond eyes. Their satin-smooth skin enveloped willowy curves. The “civilized” world never saw Tenkin women. A closely guarded treasure, they never left their villages.

The inhabitants showed neither fear nor concern at the procession of the foreigners. Most observed their arrival with silent curiosity. The women showed more interest, pressing forward to peer and talking among themselves.

“I thought Tenkins were grotesque,” Bulard said with the casual manner and volume of a man commenting on animals. “I had heard they were abominations of nature, but these people are beautiful.”

“A common misconception,” Hadrian explained. “People tell tales that Tenkin are the result of interbreeding between Calians and Ghazel, but if you ever saw a goblin, you’d understand why that’s not possible.”

“I guess you can’t believe everything you read in books. But don’t spread that around, or I’ll be out of a job.”

When they reached the village center, the Vintu went about their work and began unpacking. They moved with stoic familiarity. The party waited, listening to the hiss of rain on the fire and the murmur of the crowd gathering around them. With an expectant expression, Dilladrum struggled to see over their heads. He exchanged looks with Wesley but said nothing. Soon a small elderly Tenkin dressed in a leopard wrap entered the circle. His skin was like wrinkled leather, and his hair like gray steel. He walked with a slow dignity and an upturned chin. Dilladrum smiled and the two spoke rapidly. Then the elderly Tenkin clapped his hands and shouted. The crowd fell back and he led the crew of the Emerald Storm into the largest of the buildings. It had four tree-sized pillars holding up a latticework of intertwined branches overlaid with thatch. The interior lacked partitions and stood as an open hall lined with tanned skins and pillows made from animal hides.