“It does not matter, lord. I was happy where I was.”

We were silent for a while, and I tried to gather up courage. I glanced at his face again. The firelight leapt across his high forehead, his aquiline nose, and glowed in his black pointed heard. His eyes were shut, though there was a tension about him, as if he waited. He was so fine, so like a king, so worthy of loyalty, of all my honesty.

“Lord,” I said, “there is something I must tell you.”

“Speak on,” he said.

I hesitated. My mouth was dry, and I could feel a pulse throbbing in my throat. “Lord,” I said, terrified, “I have divined. I divined for firestone. And I found.”

His eyes flew open, held mine, and his face seemed carved of stone. I stared at him, then tore my eyes away and looked into the fire. I felt his eyes on me, tearing, cleaving me open. For a long time he said nothing, and I wished with all my heart I had kept silent.

“You lie, handmaid,” he said after a while, with deadly quiet. “You lie to me. No other soul on earth has this power, unless I teach it to him. No woman has the power. No harsha.”

I twisted my hands in front of me, and saw that my knuckles were white. “Lord, I divined for my woman-stone when it was lost. And I found it. In that valley behind this town, I found it.”

He let out a long breath, and then, to my amazement, he laughed. “Your woman-stone!”

“Yes, lord. My woman-stone. I divined for it. What is funny, lord?’

He was still laughing, chuckling quietly. “Elsha, Elsha, do not alarm me like that! I nearly died of shock. You did not divine for firestone. You divined for your woman-stone. The two things are totally different. Your woman-stone you carry with you always. It is imbued with your feelings, your beliefs, the very smell and sweat of your skin. It is only natural that with the minor intuitive power you have, you knew unconsciously where your woman-stone could be found. But that is not divining, Elsha. That is a very simple use of your natural gift of intuition. You haven’t divined for firestones, child. By God, if you divined for them, our whole world falls apart!”

He got up, went to the table where the cooking things were kept, and poured himself a cup of warm spiced wine. He brought one back for me as well, and sat with me while we drank. My hands shook, and I spilled my wine all down my dress. I longed with all my being to tell him all the truth. But I looked at him sitting there in the firelight, shaking his head at me and quietly laughing, and I could not.

Early the next morning we left Talbar. The Chosen wanted him to stay longer, wanted him to see the new mine, and stay and share a celebration feast with them, but he was cool to them, and eager to be gone. The whole town came out to farewell him, but the singing and music were subdued.