Tarkad stuttered and his face flushed. He had little desired to encounter the outspoken Dabasir. “I am sorry, very sorry, but this day I have not the copper nor the silver with which I could repay.”
“But get it then! Surely thou can’st get a few coppers and a few pieces of silver to repay the generosity of an old friend of thy father who aided thee when thou wast in need.”
“ ’Tis because ill fortune does pursue me that I cannot repay.”
“Ill fortune! Wouldst blame the gods for thy own weakness. Ill fortune pursues every man who thinks more of borrowing than of repaying. Come with me, boy, while I eat. I am hungry and I would tell thee a tale.”
Tarkad flinched from the brutal frankness of Dabasir, but here at least was an invitation to enter the coveted doorway of the eating house.
Dabasir pushed him to a far corner of the room where they seated themselves upon small rugs.
When Kauskor the proprietor appeared smiling, Dabasir addressed him with his usual freedom. “Fat lizard of the desert, bring to me a leg of the goat, very brown with much juice and bread and all of the vegetables for I am hungry and want much food. Do not forget my friend here. Bring to him a jug of water. Have it cooled, for the day is hot.”
Tarkad’s heart sank. Must he sit here and drink water while be watched this man devour an entire goat leg. He said nothing. He thought of nothing he could say.
Dabasir, however, knew no such thing as silence. Smiling and waving his hand good-naturedly to the other customers all of whom knew him, he continued,—36—
