He turned away, feeling sick. She caught at his arm and tried to pull
him back. "Asir! Take the hüffen and _go_!"
"I'll go," he growled. "But not to the hills. I'm going out to the
vault."
He stalked away, but she trotted along beside him, trying to tug him
back. "Fool! The vaults are sacred! The priests guard the entrance, and
the Sleeper guards the inner door. They'll kill you if you try it, and
if you linger, the council will kill you tomorrow."
"Let them!" he snarled. "I am no sniveling townsman! I am of the hills,
and my father was a renegade. Your council had no right to judge me.
Now _I_ shall judge _them_."
The words were spoken hotly, and he realized their folly. He expected a
scornful rebuke from Mara, but she hung onto his arm and pleaded with
him. He had dragged her a dozen doorways from the house of her father.
Her voice had lost its arrogance and became pleading.
"Please, Asir! Go away. Listen! I will even go with you--if you want
me."