“I left the town at first light. Perhaps a swift runner has come with news that the tribe by the sea or a lion out of the forest has slain Mardurbo?”
“By Air the goddess, no!” said Vana.
“Then I will think,” said Kadoumin, “of what you say until Mardurbo returns.—Dardin has taught me, too, a great spell that gives long life.”
Vana in her turn looked at him aslant. “It does not show—that spell. The webs are fair and the field joins yours. Better the lowing of one heifer before the door than the seeing of herds in the clouds of the sky!”
“I will think,” said Kadoumin, “of what you say until Mardurbo’s return. If there were more advantage yet....” He seemed to fall to dreaming. “Mardurbo, I know not why, is fonder of children than of brothers. I have no children and so I know not why.... Mardurbo might add to the webs and the field.... If all the men in town and plain—and all the women—would agree, all men might leave their goods to their own children.”
Vana struck her hands together. “Kadoumin the wise! I have thought that, lying on my bed at night! But I thought that it was my thought only, and it seemed to me too strange to tell!”
Kadoumin drew the barley stalk through his hands. “The matter is one of kindred, and there is no rope like kindred, and no bull with its strength!”
“Nearly all have children. Children are loved more than are sisters and brothers. It is wise to lay a gift upon the ground if thereby you take two from the tree!”
“I have no children.”
“So we make you the webs and the field and what Mardurbo will give!”