Description
She uttered another statement, of which he understood only a small part, missing the greater part. She spoke and spoke until he was forced to silence her with a question:
“But by the goddess Tanit, who are you?”
She didn’t believe his question and let out a nervous laugh. She fell silent, but quickly regained her composure to deflect his question with one of her own: “Do you deny me?” He answered her with a phrase borrowed from the law of submission: “I thought, my lady, that we should deny even those we know, so how can we not deny those we don’t?”
She shot him an angry look, but the anger turned to astonishment. She composed herself once more. “If it isn’t denial,” she said sadly, “then it is surely forgetting!” She glanced at him furtively, but his gaze wandered across the green-grassed plains, a mysterious smile on his lips, the serenity of the eternally reclusive in his eyes. She said, as if mourning him for herself before mourning him for others: “Forgetting is a calamity worse than death!”
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