And he smiled a little in his grave way.
Then he turned to Henga. “I am glad you had your chance of paying your debt to that hell-hound. When we ride to their country, you shall come with us and settle your account with his brother.
“And now,” said he to me, “we will drink a bowl of wine and then ride on to Aornos to catch the rest after you have changed your clothes.”
I went and changed into my own clothes, after which Henga’s men brought us bowls of wine, and I noticed that, before Henga drank, he poured a little on the ground as though he were performing some rite.
Then we mounted, and with our escort set our faces north for Aornos, crossing the Astara by a narrow bridge of boats.
It was a wide stream, nearly one hundred and fifty yards across, and deep by the look of it. In many places the bank was fringed by willow trees and covered with turf, while downstream from us fat cattle were grazing in the lush meadow grass. As Stephnos had said the day before, it was a fertile country.
I asked Kyrlos if there was any special significance in Henga’s pouring out some of his wine, and he said that it was a custom, after battle, to thank the gods for good fortune.
“An old pagan custom, but you still see it among some of our people who follow the truth. ’Tis strange how old customs linger, especially such semi-religious ones. And, speaking of pagans, tell me, Harilek, in your land are there no followers of many gods?”
“Not in my own country, though there be in some of the countries we rule, for we rule many. In the land where I served as a soldier, and where the men I command came from, there are many such, followers of strange gods, each district worshipping their own, and others there be like the two soldiers with me, who believe in one God only, but not in Christ.”
“Jews, perchance, of whom we read.”