They gave greeting, naming Gods and high titles of men; and then, as travellers over long roads, they told of towns and kings, and of what they had seen and heard.
The village where they had rested for the night was temple land, a free gift many generations back to the Temple and its Priests. The Kir spoke of the present holder, asking of the hospitality they had received and whether they had been branded with the holy Temple sign. They bared their arms and showed the brand burned red and white on the flesh. Other brands were there of famous Temples showing the journeys and pilgrimages they had made.
They had found a welcome: it had pleased the Priest to be merry in their company. But in the village and on the lands under him, he ruled hard; and along the coast men jeered at the temple-land villagers, who for the honour of the Temple, kept life sacred and might not hunt or fish. The beauties of the village offered at the Temple, so nets there were indeed—hung near the road Kir's house where none dared rob—left there by those who used them, seeing that they might not bring them to the village. But the Kir spoke not to those women, nor to the brothers and husbands who fished.
One of the travellers said with a laugh that there would soon be another net left for safety outside the village, for the Priest was merry and would not be over vigilant on those who gave good value.
The Kir rose as the laugh sounded; his tongue clicked
