13. The Burying Alive Of Nais

           OurLordtheSunwasridingtowardstheendofHisday,andthesmokefromaburningmountainfannedblackandforbiddingbeforeHisface.Phorenicewrungthewaterfromherclothesandshivered.“Workhardwiththosepaddles,Deucalion,andtakemeinthroughthewater-gateandletmeberestoredtomycomfortsagain.Thatmerchantwouldrueifhesawhowhisprettygarmentswerespoiled,andIrue,too,beingawoman,andrememberingthatheatleasthasnoothersIcantakeinplaceofthese.”Shelookedatmesidelong,tossingbacktheshortredhairfromhereyes.“Whatthinkyouofmywisdomincomingwherewehavecomewithoutanescort?”

           “TheEmpresscandonowrong,”Iquotedtheoldformulawithasmile.

           “AtleastIhaveshownyouthatIcanfight.Icaughtyoulookingyourapprovalofmequitepleasantlyonceortwice.Youwereadifficultmantothaw,Deucalion,butyouwarmperceptiblyasyoukeeponbeingnearme.La,sir,weshallbeapairofrusticsweetheartsyet,ifthisgoeson.IamgladIthoughtofthedeviceofgoingnearthosesmellyfishers.”

           Soshehadtakenmeoutinthelitterunattendedfortheplainpurposeofinvitingafight,andshowingmeherskillatarms,andperhaps,too,ofseeinginpersonhowIalsocarriedmyselfinamomentofstress.Well,ifweweretoliveontogetherashusbandandwife,itwasgoodthateachshouldknowtoanicetytheother’spowers;andalso,Iamtoomuchofanoldbattlerandtoomuchenamouredwiththeglorioushandlingofarmstoquarrelverydeeplywithanyonewhooffersmeatoughupstandingfight.