Verrill spent a restless night, being intensely occupied in telling himself, over and over again, that Venus was a long way off, and that whatever happened on Terra did not really count, unless as a result he became embroiled in feuds on Falana's account and to such an extent that he would be unable to make off with the Fire of Skanderbek.
Well before dawn, Falana went to the door to get a small bundle she had left lying at the jamb. Before Verrill knew what was happening, he got his first whiff of breakfast cooked in his own home.
"Eating with neighbors," Falana observed, "must have been awful. And you never know who might poison you."
Watching Falana patting oat cakes into shape, and baking them on a hot rock, he began to see her as a very pleasant reality, though he could not help but go long-faced when he considered how he had without doubt inherited a few dangerous animosities as well.
She must have read his thought, for she said, "It's much better this way, Verrill. You haven't more than maybe one-two-three enemies on my account. But as long as you lived alone, doctoring all day while most of the men are out with the flocks, they'd all be suspecting and hating you."
There was nothing to explain to Ardelan. The chief seemed to have been expecting something of the sort. "Falana," he said to Verrill, "probably didn't get around to telling you this, but you can either send her home, or else take her to the fire temple to get Kwangtan's blessing. Then you won't be a stranger anymore, and you'll get along better."
That very day, Falana and Verrill knelt before the altar of living flame and passed their joined hands quickly through the fire. This time, Verrill got a good look at the shrine as Kwangtan blessed them.
He likewise got a look at the surroundings. He noted Kwangtan's cell, hewn out of the limestone cliff. He noted the cairns of rock raised above the grave of each of Kwangtan's predecessors. Having sized up the situation, he decided that his next move would be to ride a circuit of Ardelan's territory, to treat those tribesmen who rarely if ever got to town. By becoming acquainted with all the trails, he would have a better chance of escaping with the Fire of Skanderbek.
Too bad he could not take Falana along. She would be a sensation, back home. The most skilled cosmeticians of the Venusian Domes could not begin to duplicate Falana's glowing red-bronze hair.