“It is our best Chosen wine,” he said. “It will warm you like a fire inside.”

I took the bottle, shot him a curious look, and drank. After a while he grabbed the bottle from me, spilling the tawny liquid down my chin.

“God, Elsha – a sip or two, I meant!” he cried. “Have you never drunk before?”

“Often,” I said, wiping my hand across my chin, and licking off the fiery drops. “Water, though.”

He wiped the bottle carefully, and replaced the cork. He put the bottle back in its special place in the bag.

The fire flared up, dazzling, and the flames had never seemed more beautiful. A glowing warmth enveloped me; a deep, rapturous feeling that all the world was wonderful. I watched the flames, saw visions in them, and could have wept for joy.

Amasai, oblivious to the miracle that was happening, spread his furs across his sleeping mat, crawled in and closed his eyes. I sang, I think; but I do not know whether it was to myself, or aloud. After a while Amasai opened one eye, half smiled, and asked, “Are you sleeping tonight, Elsha?”

“It’s too marvellous a night to sleep,” I think I said.

He got up and spread my sleeping mat out for me, and placed my furs on it. My furs. Last night my furs had been an unfamiliar luxury, soft and strange. Tonight they were pure deliciousness. At some time I peeled off all my clothes and squirmed naked into them, and the feeling flew my mind away. I had a dream that I danced by the fire, naked and shining, with my furs half draped about me.

I hope it was a dream.

5

My Strange Philosophy

THE TOWN SPRAWLED below us – a bustling, dusty, noisy turmoil of animals and people. Stone huts clustered about the tents and awnings of a busy marketplace, and above rose the majestic houses of the rich.

“It is Jinnah, the centre for all our trade,” explained Amasai, checking the ropes and leather straps of the mule’s travelling bags. “It is the hub of all the roads through the mountains. Here is sold cloth, pottery, metal utensils, clothing, and things of wood. And they buy in firestones, since here there is no mine.” He straightened up, and gave me a meaningful look. “And there are no Quelled,” he added.

I looked down the winding track between the rocks, down at the dust and noise and turbulence, and my heart sank. “No Quelled at all, lord?”

“Only you. I am meeting the Firelord here, now that the great festival is finished.” He hesitated, his marvellous eyes looking down across the town. “It will be difficult for you from now on, Elsha. Put out of your mind the way things were between you and me, on this journey. You are Quelled. All in this place are Chosen. Never has a Quelled set foot on this road or in this town. We must not be parted.”