Fallen by Tim Lebbon

animals; plants; objects carved from wood or stone; fine clay pitchers of dark fluids; one woman offered herself, pulling open her loose tunic to display heavy breasts and a stomach tattooed with swirling images.
    They did not stop. Beko rode on and Nomi did not question his decision; there was a sense this could get ugly. When they had passed the traders Nomi turned around in her saddle to see how Ramus had reacted.
    His horse stood abandoned, and Ramus was kneeling beside an old woman and her display of rope charms.
    “What in the name of all the gods . . . ?” Nomi paused and let the Serians ride by, only Ramin offering her a tight smile.
    “Your friend in need of some help from beyond?” he asked.
    “Not Ramus, no.” She shook her head. At least, she thought, not the old Ramus. But this was no longer the Ramus of old, was it? This was a new man, with a terrible new illness which he probably still believed nobody else knew about. . . .
    Ramus stood, dug into his jacket pocket and dropped some coins into the old woman's hand. She held his fingers and closed her eyes, then snatched up a rope charm from her extensive display. It was the length of her forearm, the knot in the middle thick and complex, and it had been dyed dark purple.
    “I wonder what charm that one hides?” Nomi muttered. These were intricate knots, inside which the enchantments were supposedly trapped, expelled as a whisper from the charm breather. Untie the knot and the charm is released.
    Ramus mounted his horse and kneed it on, approaching Nomi slowly. The old woman watched him go, then locked eyes with Nomi, her expression cold and hostile.
    Nomi waited until Ramus drew close before speaking. “You and a cheap charm trick, Ramus?”
    He rode past her without a look. “I'm interested, and there's no harm there,” he said.
    “I know you. Interested you may be, but you'd never line the palm of a charlatan. You'd sooner steal it from her.”
    “Who's to say who's a charlatan and who is a true charm breather?”
    She shook her head, incredulous and confused, then clicked her tongue and urged her horse onward. Now Nomi was at the end of the line.
     
    THEY CAMPED A mile beyond the forest. The Serians dismounted with ease, but as Nomi slipped from her saddle she realized just how much she'd lost the feel of riding. Her legs and rear ached, and her back, arms and shoulders were stiff from being constantly tensed.
    “Got to ease up if you're going to make seven hundred miles,” Beko said. “We've come about fifteen so far.”
    “Well, then, not far to go,” Nomi said. She gave him a sweet smile, which he laughed at before going back to his horse.
    Ramus approached, his face a mask of discomfort. “I forgot how much horses hate me,” he said. “I think my balls are going to drop off.”
    “Thank you so much for that information,” Nomi said.
    Ramus smiled and nodded at the Serians. They were gathered a short distance away, drinking from their skins and talking quietly amonst themselves. “They seem quite tight,” he said.
    “I think they've voyaged together several times before. Beko called them his team, and I think they respect him as a captain.”
    “Good.” He wanted to say something else, Nomi was sure. He stretched his arms and tried to massage feeling back into his legs, but he kept glancing at her.
    “What?” she asked.
    Ramus shook his head and chuckled. “Am I that transparent?”
    “Yes.”
    “Fine.” He brought the rope charm from inside his jacket. “Don't tell me to piss off until I've finished what I'm about to say, because—”
    “Piss off.”
    He stared at Nomi without smiling, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable. He's serious, she thought. And I just made fun.
    “I bought this for you,” he said.
    Nomi's shock was such that she could not speak.
    “We're voyaging into darkness,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper. “I truly feel this. And though I know it's all about journeying into the unknown, I