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bole trees. The sun was hot and constant, the moisture from below billowing in occasional steam clouds, and she had found the best crop for the perfect wine.
    The dependable plants had pinned her to the land, and their produce provided the wealth she now enjoyed.
    If she walked fast and made her deals quickly, she would be back at Naru May's by noon, bathed, changed and ready to plan the voyage of her life.
    With Ramus. That was exciting, but it troubled her as well. They had a complex history. So much time together, so many secrets. If she'd ever had siblings to compare him to, she might have thought of him as a brother.
    Yet this was bigger than them. What Ten had brought would provide riches, glory, knowledge and danger enough for them both. And for the first time, the thought of what they were facing frightened rather than thrilled her.
     
    BEKO HAVISON LIVED in the basement rooms beneath a tavern. He was a Serian—a soldier from Mancoseria, ready to sell his experience to the Guild of Voyagers—and he had accompanied Nomi on her second voyage to Ventgoria. It had been a relatively trouble-free journey, other than her sickness, but she had always seen the potential in him. They had talked a lot on that trip, and he had professed a love of free poetry, but the raw strength that had seen him through five voyages was obvious. He could talk endlessly about moonlight touching the stark branches of a lightning tree, but he could never hide his scars.
    The tavern was still boarded up, and a drunk lay unconscious on its steps. Nomi thought of waking him and telling him that dawn had come and gone, but he did not look like the sort of man who'd take kindly to being surprised. There was a short curved knife in his belt, the blade keen, bone handle smooth and darkened from use.
    She stepped over his splayed legs, cringing at the smell, and walked down the short flight of stone steps to the basement door.
    It was open, and Beko Havison was smiling at her.
    “Beko! You surprised me.”
    “You come to visit, and I surprise you ?”
    “How by all the gods do you live here?” she asked. The drunk growled something indecipherable in his sleep.
    “Nobody looks below a tavern,” Beko said. “Makes me anonymous. Besides, it's not so bad here. A rough place, but the food is to die for.” He held out his hands and Nomi grasped them. “Good travels.”
    Nomi grinned. “I hope so.”
    “Ah!” Beko said. “Work. Then welcome to my humble abode.”
     
    THE BASEMENT CONSISTED of one huge room with a curtained bathroom in one corner and a large bed along one side. With the front door closed, the only outside light came from three slits just below ceiling level—one at the front and two at the rear. They were glazed with thick, misted glass, and dust on the outside further reduced the light. Candles flickered around the room, casting flickering shadows. The ceiling beams were low enough that the warrior had to duck in places.
    All available wall space was taken up by weaponry.
    “Very homely,” Nomi said.
    “I have to store the tools of my trade somewhere.”
    There were a dozen swords of varying shapes, lengths and designs. Several bows hung on the walls, the smallest the length of Nomi's arm, the longest as tall as the room. A collection of intricately designed quivers lay on the table along the room's rear wall, and there were tall wooden pots from which the feathered ends of hundreds of arrows protruded like deadly flowers. Knives made from metal, bone and hardwood hung on strings, along with an assortment of other cutting, crushing or hacking weapons. She could also see the crossbow with which Beko had hunted fowl and wild pigs in Ventgoria.
    Nomi shivered. She could not help wondering which blades, arrows and axes had killed people.
    She knew that Beko had killed. They had talked about it. Hers was the most trouble-free voyage he had been on, he told her. The one previous to that had been with a woman named Ghina Bleed, one