“We stay because it is the matter of Aryenis and of her people, and since she was our guest we consider it in some sort as our business, too. Besides, we like not such of the ways of the Shamans as we have seen.” I told him of the morning’s episode, and Kyrlos’s narrow escape.
“The Shamans grow bold to practise open treachery like that. They must hold the other clans in thrall like dogs. Ten years ago, had such a thing been done, the whole of the clans would have turned on them.” He stopped; then continued:
“You speak as I would have spoken when I was your age and a whole man. But not all men would consider that the war was their affair because they had saved Aryenis. Rather would they incline to say they had done their part and somewhat over. I think that all the fortune was not with you; some large portion goes to Aryenis.”
“So also think I,” said she. “Life is sweet, but when with the gift of life one gets the gift of friends as well, then is one doubly blest.”
“True, child. You seem to have had both given to you in the gate”—and he was silent a space.
Then he clapped his hands, and a servant brought us out wine and sweet cakes on little silver trays. We talked awhile, and he asked many questions about the countries we came from. He was well read, and told me that he had some old manuscripts which he would show me one day. He knew the classics, Arrian and Herodotus amongst them, and could follow a little about India when I tried to explain our journey to him.
Then Aryenis went into the house to see the old servants, and he and I were left alone. He looked after her as she walked across the lawn.
“Aryenis is just like her mother—I sometimes think she is her mother when she comes here.”
“Her mother is dead, is she not?” I asked.
“Yes, many years ago. And yet it seems but yesterday that she sat here as Aryenis does now. She and Kyrlos often came to see me.” He sighed a little.