accumulate experience of all the ills that men were heir to. ‘And one of these
days I shall be asking your help.’
Would the youthful governor remember that night, and decide – hopeful thought
that Alten Stulwig was too valuable to penalize?
What the prince did, first, was ask one more question. He said, ‘During the time
you were with the person who seemed to be Cappen Varra, did he break into song,
or recite a verse?’
The significance of the question was instantly apparent. The minstrel was known
for his gaiety, and his free and easy renditions under all circumstances.
Stulwig made haste to say, ‘No, highness, not a sound, or a poetic phrase.
Contrariwise, he seemed very serious.’
A few moments later, the prince rendered his judgement. He said, ‘Since mighty
Vashanka himself seems to be acting directly in this matter, it would be
presumptuous of us to interfere.’
The lean-faced young man glanced at Molin. The high priest hesitated, then
nodded. Whereupon the prince turned once more to Stulwig.
‘Most worthy healer,’ he said, ‘you are released to whatever the future holds
for you. May the gods dispense justice upon you, balancing your virtues against
your sins.’
‘-So he does remember!’ thought Stulwig, gratefully.
Surprisingly, after he had been escorted outside, Stulwig knew at once which was
the proper place for him to go. Many times he had been confronted by grief or
guilt, or the hopelessness of a slighted lover, or a betrayed wife. For none of
these had his herbs ever accomplished more than a passing moment of sleep or