There was laughter from the wagon that rolled past. 'You backward village boy! Olcus, the driver, mocked. 'That's the smell of the sea.

Edeard dropped his gaze back down to the horizon. He'd never seen the sea before. In truth, from this distance it didn't look much: a grey-blue smudge line. He supposed it would become more interesting and impressive as they drew nearer. 'Thank you, old man, he called back, and supplied a fast hand gesture. By now, he was on good terms with just about every family in the caravan. Abandoning them in Makkathran was going to be at least as hard as leaving Plax.

'Come on, Salrana said. She ordered her ge-horse forward. After a moment, Edeard followed suit.

'I was talking to Magrith at breakfast, Salrana said. 'She told me this road was the same one which Rah travelled on when he led his shipmates out of the strife which followed their landing on Querencia. He would have seen the city for the first time from this very same spot.

'Wonder what he made of the Iguru, Edeard muttered.

'There are times when I really don't understand you, Edeard. We've reached Makkathran, which I only ever half-believed in anyway. Us two, Ashwell villagers no less, are here at the centre of our whole world. And all you do is talk about the stupid farmland outside.

'I'm sorry. It's… this place is odd, that's all. Look round, the mountains just end, like something cut them off.

'I'm sure there's a Geography Guild if you're that interested, she sniffed.

'Now that's an idea, he said with sudden apparent interest. 'Do you think it would be hard to get into?

'Oh! she squealed in exasperation. Her third hand shoved against him, trying to push him off his saddle. He pushed right back, which sent her hunching down, tightening her grip on the reins. 'Edeard! Careful.

'Sorry. It was something of a standing joke along the caravan that he didn't know his own strength. He shook his head and concentrated on the phalanx of genistars walking alongside the caravan, making sure the ge-horses were pulling wagons in a straight line, ge-wolves kept close, and the ge-eagles spiralled wide. The surface of the road was excellent, laid with large flat stones, well maintained — it was almost like a town pavement. But then this was the main road through the mountains and led directly to the capital. Both eyes and farsight picked out several wagons and small convoys winding their way up and down the broad switchbacks ahead of them. He also saw a group of men on horseback accompanied by ge-wolves who were picking their way leisurely up the road. They'd reach the head of the caravan by noon, he reckoned.

With his senses open wide he slowly grew aware of the city's emanations. It was a quiet background burble, similar to the aura of any human settlement. Except this time he was too far away to be sensing Makkathran's population, no matter how talented and receptive he was. Besides, this had a different tempo to human minds; slower and so much more content. It was the essence of a lazy summer's afternoon distilled into a single long harmonic. Pleasant and relaxing. He yawned.

'Edeard! Salrana called.

He blinked, the worry in her mind switching him to full alertness. His ge-horse was meandering close to the edge of the road. Not that it was dangerous, there was no sheer slope until further down the hill where the switchbacks began, here there was just uneven ground and the curving crest. A quick couple of instructions to the ge-horse's mind corrected his direction.

'Let's try and arrive intact, she said scathingly. 'Lady, but your riding is still terrible.

He was too disquieted to try and correct her with their usual banter. He could no longer sense the city's lumbering thoughts — too much adrenaline pumping through his veins. Now the city was in sight, he was getting genuinely excited. At last the dreadful past was well and truly behind them.

It was midday when the caravan drew to a gradual halt amid the groaning of wood and metal brakes, the snorting of animals and quiet grumbles of humans. They were strung out over half a mile, curving round one of the longer switchbacks which made it awkward for anyone else trying to use the road. The captain of the militia patrol who made them stop was mildly apologetic, but insistent none the less.

Edeard was only a couple of wagons behind the front as Barkus asked, 'Is there a problem, sir? This is our annual trip, we are well known to all the civic authorities.

'I know you myself, Barkus, the captain said as he eyed the caravan's ge-wolves. He was sitting on a midnight-black terrestrial horse, looking very splendid in a ceremonial blue and scarlet tunic with polished brass buttons gleaming down his jacket. Edeard used his farsight to examine the revolver in the man's white leather holster. It was remarkably similar to the one that had belonged to Genril's family. The rest of the militia were similarly armed; they certainly weren't carrying anything like the fast-firing gun of the bandits. Edeard didn't know if that was a good thing or not. If the city did possess such weapons, they probably wouldn't be put out on show with a patrol like this.

'However, I don't remember you having so many ge-wolves before, the captain said.

'We were in the Rulan province last year; a village was sacked by bandits, farms suffered losses in raids. You can't be too careful.

'Damned savages, the captain spat. 'Probably just two tribes fighting over some whore. I don't know why you venture out there, Barkus, they're all bandits and ne'er-do-wells if you ask me.

Edeard slowly sat up very straight, keeping his gaze fixed on the captain. He strengthened his shield around him.

'Do nothing, Barkus shot at him with a longtalk whisper.

'Edeard, Salrana hissed quietly. He could sense the rage in her own thoughts, barely contained. All around him, the minds of his friends were radiating dismay and sympathy.

'But profitable, Barkus continued smoothly. 'We can buy very cheaply indeed out there.

The captain laughed, unaware of the emotional storm gathering around him. 'For which my friends in the city will pay greatly, I suppose.

'That's the essence of trade, Barkus said. 'After all, we do travel at considerable risk.

'Well good luck to you, Barkus. But I am responsible for the safety of Makkathran, so I must request that you keep your beasts on a leash within the city walls. They won't be used to civilization. We don't want any unfortunate accidents.

'Of course.

'You might want to get them accustomed to the idea as soon as you reach the plain.

'I'll see to it.

'Jolly good. And no trading to the denizens of the Sampalok district, eh?

'Absolutely not.

The captain and his men turned round and rode off down the road, their pack of ge-wolves chasing along behind.

Barkus saw the caravan start off again, then urged his ge-horse back to Edeard and Salrana. 'I'm sorry you had to hear that, he said.

'They're not all like that in the city, are they? Salrana asked anxiously.

'Sweet Lady, no. Officers in the militia are usually the younger sons of an old family; little idiots who know nothing of life. Their birth provides them with a great deal of arrogance, but no money. The militia allows them the illusion of continuing status, while all they actually do is search for a wealthy wife. Thankfully they can do no real harm patrolling out here.

Edeard was almost shocked by the notion. 'If they need money, why don't they join a Guild and develop their psychic talent, or begin a new business?

To his surprise, Barkus burst out laughing. 'Oh Edeard, for all the distance you've travelled with us, you still have so much further to go. A nobleman's son earns a living! He laughed again before ordering his ge-horse back to the next wagon.