for what I did to you."
She was crying now. "Hate you? Oh, Anest," she said, wiping at her tears, "you didn't make me love you."
"No?"
"No!" she said, emphatically. "I wanted you so much that first night . . . it was all so new and strange, and wonderful to me. It did hurt a little the first time, but Dorain told me it's supposed to. You were so gentle. You always are." She smiled wanly. "Dorain thinks I'm very lucky. So do I."
They moved toward each other, touched each other slowly, carefully. When he finally took her in his arms, she giggled through her tears. "You'd better be ready to make love to me after all this."
A while later, she lay feeling drowsy and wonderful in his arms.
"There is someone who thinks you're a burden," said Anest in a tone that told her he wasn't serious.
"Oh? And who would that be?"
"Thunder."
"I see. And I suppose you're not."
"He is my horse."
"Ha! A lot you know. If you told him that he'd probably make you walk."
Anest laughed. "Yes, he probably would. He lets me ride because he's my friend."
"That's better."
"So what else did Dorain say?" he asked her.