They walked in silence for a while, trying to ignore the glaring sun that brought the sweat out on their skins, soaking the sweatbands of their broad-brimmed hats and running in little rivulets down their bodies. "I kind of feel sorry for that boy," old Blejjo said at last. "Oh?" said Anketam. "How so? He'll get along. He's improving. Why, he did as good a job of transplanting as any man this spring. Last year, he bruised the seedlings, but I gave him a good dressing down and he remembered it. He'll be all right." "I'm not talking about that, Ank," said the old man, "I mean him and Zillia. He's really got a case on with that girl." "Anything wrong with that? A young fellow's got a right to fall in love, hasn't he? And Zillia seems pretty keen on him, too. If her father doesn't object, everything ought to go along pretty smoothly." "Her father might not object," said Blejjo, looking down at his feet as they paced off the dusty road. "But there's others who might object." "Who, for instance?" Blejjo was silent for several steps. Then he said: "Well, Kevenoe, for one." Anketam thought that over in silence. Kevenoe was on The Chief's staff at the castle. Like many staff men--including, Anketam thought wryly, his own brother Russat, on occasion--he tended to lord it over the farmers who worked the land. "Kevenoe has an eye on Zillia?" he asked after a moment. "I understand he's asked Chief Samas for her as soon as she's eighteen. That would be this fall, after harvest." "I see," Anketam said thoughtfully. He didn't ask how the old man had come about his knowledge. Old Blejjo had little to do, and on the occasions that he had to do some work around The Chief's castle, he made it a point to pick up gossip. But he was careful with his information; he didn't go spreading it around for all to hear, and he made it a point to verify his information before he passed it on. Anketam respected the old man. He was the only one in the village who called him "Ank," outside of Memi. "Do you think The Chief will give her to Kevenoe?" he asked. Blejjo nodded. "Looks like it. He thinks a great deal of Kevenoe." "No reason why he shouldn't," said Anketam. "Kevenoe's a good man." "Oh, I know that," said the old man. "But Basom won't like it at all. And I don't think Zillia will, either." "That's the way things happen," said Anketam. "A man can't expect to go through life having everything his own way. There's other girls around for Basom. If he can't have the prettiest, he'll have to be satisfied with someone else." He chuckled. "That's why I picked Memi. She's not beautiful and never was, but she's a wonderful wife." "That's so," said Blejjo. "A wise man is one who only wants what he knows he can have. Right now"--he took off his hat and wiped his bald head--"all I want is a dip in that river." "Swim first and then fish?" "I think so, don't you? Basom was right about this hot sun." "I'll go along with you," agreed Anketam.