to have concourse with human females.’ The beautiful male face twisted. The
bright eyes gazed into Stulwig’s. ‘I have heard stories,’ Cappen said, ‘that
you, as your father before you, often accept a woman’s favours in exchange for
your services as a healer; the woman having nothing else to give pays the price
in the time-honoured way of male-female. As a consequence you actually have many
half-brothers out there in the streets, and you yourself – so it has been said
have sired a dozen sons and daughters, unacknowledged because of course no one
can ever be sure who is the father of these numerous waifs, unless there is
unmistakable facial resemblance.’
Another shrug. ‘I’m not blaming you. These are the truths of our world. But-‘
He stopped. His hand extended gingerly, and touched Stulwig’s stave. ‘It’s tough
wood.’
Stulwig was uneasy. ‘Awkward to handle in close quarters, and scarcely a weapon
to ward off the god of lightning.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Cappen, ‘it’s your best defence. Use it firmly. Keep it
between you and any attacker. Yield ground and flee only when there’s a good
moment.’
‘But,’ protested Stulwig, ‘suppose Vashanka seeks me out? Shall I pit my staff
against the Rankan god of war?’ When Cappen merely stood there, looking
indifferent now, the healer continued in a desperate tone, ‘There are stories of
how Ils helped individuals in battle in the old days. But I grew up after the’
Rankan conquest and -‘ he was gloomy – ‘ somehow the powers of the defeated god
of old Ilsig didn’t seem worth inquiring about. So I’m ignorant of what he did,