"I think that one Oleric has spoken oft of you, and that I can guess the name you bear—and I find it a most fitting name."
Rose-pink the Goddess Glorian flushed, in a most mortal fashion, and was glad that at that moment black Rombar thrust his head forward over the edge of the bed to claim a share in the attention of his master.
Polaris stirred his hands, and then looked up wonderingly.
"I am weak," he said. "How long have I lain ill, and what misfortune befell me to so lay me by the heels? I understand it not at all; for my memory has tricked me."
Toying with Rombar's collar, Glorian told him what she had learned from the others of the fight at the mouth of the Illia.
"And I do thank you for the life of my faithful captain," she said, "as he will presently. It was a brave deed, a very brave deed. Now you must talk no more, and no more must I weary you. You are worn with sickness, and it will be many days before your strength comes back. Rest and fret not. All things are going well."
She left him, and presently he slept.