The hat and the low sun combined to prevent him from reading anything in the shadowed face, but with an effort he forced himself to look concerned. ‘Your horse looks as if it could do with a rest,’ he said. ‘As do you.’ He tried to make his expression fatherly, but it became a yellow-toothed leer. ‘There’ll probably be something for you.’ A fat thumb flicked towards the setting sun. ‘There’s the city. And the Lowe Towns. Not to mention more than a few farms.’ The leer nodded to the east. ‘Then there’s the mines in the Thlosgaral and the Wilde Ports on the other side.’ He was unable to resist a final jibe. ‘Providing you don’t mind doing real work, of course.’

Once again, to Ghreel’s annoyance, the man did not respond, and they entered the inn in silence.

‘What is the city?’ the man asked as the stagnant dimness of the drinking room embraced them. He took off his hat. Ghreel blinked to clear his vision, then looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and suspicion. There was no sign of mockery in the face however.

‘What do you mean, what’s the city?’

‘What’s it called?’

The innkeeper pondered the question, testing it carefully, still suspicious. ‘Arash-Felloren,’ he said eventually, speaking wanly, as if to a treacherous child. ‘You can’t not have heard about Arash-Felloren, surely?’

The man gave a self-deprecating shrug. ‘I live far away.’

Like a hunting animal returning to its lair, Ghreel scuttled back behind the counter, and into his natural condition. He addressed the room. ‘Hear that, lads? Man here’s a teacher.’ He lingered on the word. ‘But he’s never heard of Arash-Felloren. You must have come from a very long way away, that’s all I can say. And it must have been a quiet place.’ Unfriendly laughter greeted this but the man just turned and acknowledged it with a smile.

‘I have, and it was,’ he said. ‘But I’ll take your advice. I’ll stay a while. Perhaps try the city tomorrow.’ He met Ghreel’s taunting gaze squarely. ‘I’d like to rest now, if you don’t mind.’