*
As we left the temple circle and headed back to the city, people were smiling and clapping. They patted me on the back and offered me gifts, one man gave me his arrow quiver, a woman gave me a little rawhide drawstring bag containing a cob of iron pyrites and a ball of snuff dry kindling.
Serren watched me leave, his face as dark as thunderclouds. For him, this had been a massive humiliation. For me it was nothing more than a stay of execution. Serren had been made to look foolish. His ill conceived plans had foundered on the uncomplicated honesty of a big, generous hearted giant, whose simple approach to life knew nothing of politics and wordplay. But no matter who had done what, there was only one person Serren would blame for his humiliation – and that was yours truly.
……….