ought wryly,
his own brother Russat, on occasion--he tended to lord it over the
farmers who worked the land. "Kevenoe has an eye on Zillia?" he asked
after a moment.

"I understand he's asked Chief Samas for her as soon as she's eighteen.
That would be this fall, after harvest."

"I see," Anketam said thoughtfully. He didn't ask how the old man had
come about his knowledge. Old Blejjo had little to do, and on the
occasions that he had to do some work around The Chief's castle, he made
it a point to pick up gossip. But he was careful with his information;
he didn't go spreading it around for all to hear, and he made it a point
to verify his information before he passed it on. Anketam respected the
old man. He was the only one in the village who called him "Ank,"
outside of Memi.

"Do you think The Chief will give her to Kevenoe?" he asked.

Blejjo nodded. "Looks like it. He thinks a great deal of Kevenoe."

"No reason why he shouldn't," said Anketam. "Kevenoe's a good man."

"Oh, I know that," said the old man. "But Basom won't like it at all.
And I don't think Zillia will, either."

"That's the way things happen," said Anketam. "A man can't expect to go
through life having everything his own way. There's other girls around
for Basom. If he can't have the prettiest, he'll have to be satisfied
with someone else." He chuckled. "That's why I picked Memi. She's not
beautiful and never was, but she's a wonderful wife."

"That's so," said Blejjo. "A wise man is one who only wants what he
knows he can have. Right now"--he took off his hat and wiped his bald
head--"all I want is a dip in that river."

"Swim first and then fish?"

"I think so, don't you? Basom was right about this hot sun."

"I'll go along with you," agreed Anketam.

They made their way to the river, to the shallow place at the bend where
everyone swam. There were a dozen and more kids there, having a great
time in the slow moving water, and several of the older people soaking
themselves and keeping an eye on the kids to make sure they didn't
wander out to where the water was deep and the current swift.

Anketam and Blejjo took off their clothes and cooled themselves in the
water for a good half hour before they dressed again and went on upriver
to a spot where Blejjo swore the fish were biting.

They were. In the next four hours, the two men had caught six fish
apiece, and Blejjo was trying for his seventh. Here, near the river,
there was a slig