“I am very sorry that they are going to burn you,” said Letari, “but as for her, she is a Korsar and I feel nothing but hatred and loathing for her, but you are different. I know that you are not a Korsar and I wish that I could save you.”
“Will you—would you, if you could?” demanded Tanar.
“Yes, but I cannot.”
The conversation relative to escape had been carried on in low whispers, so that the guard would not overhear, but evidently it had aroused his suspicion for now he arose and came to the doorway of the hut. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Why do you stay in here so long, Letari, talking with these Korsars? I heard what you said and I believe that you are in love with this man.”
“What if I am?” demanded the girl. “Do not our gods demand that we love? What else do we live for upon Amiocap but love?”
“The gods do not say that we should love our enemies.”
“They do not say that we should not,” retorted Letari. “If I choose to love Tanar it is my own affair.”
“Clear out!” snapped the warrior. “There are plenty of men in Lar for you to love.”
“Ah!” sighed the girl as she passed through the doorway, “but there is none like Tanar.”
“The hateful little wanton,” cried Stellara after the girl left.