Love is not all. ‘I must go drive my geese,’ said the bride.
‘And I my sheep,’ said the bridegroom.
‘There is good grass, O Thol, round my geese’s pond. Let your sheep graze there always. Thus shall not our work sever us.’
As they went forth, some children were coming up the hill, carrying burdens. The burdens were cold roast flesh, dried figs, and a gourd of water, sent by some elders as a votive offering to the god. The children knelt at sight of the god and then ran shyly away, leaving their gifts on the ground. The god and his mate feasted gladly. Then they embraced and parted, making tryst at the pond.
When Thia approached the pond, she did not wonder that Thol was already there, for sheep go quicker than geese. But—where were his sheep? ‘Have they all strayed?’ she cried out to him.
He came to meet her, looking rather foolish.
‘O Thia,’ he explained, ‘as I went to the fold, many men and women were around it. I asked them what they did there. They knelt and made answer, “We were gazing at the sheep that had been the god’s.” When I made to unpen the flock, there was a great moaning. There was gnashing of teeth, O Thia, and tearing of hair. It was said by all that the god must herd sheep nevermore.’
‘And you, beloved, what said you?’
‘I said nothing, O Thia, amid all that wailing. I knew not what to say.’
Thia laughed long but tenderly. ‘And your sheep, beloved, what said they?’