Never, for the rest of his life, would the sharp outlines of that moment
fade from his memory. He knew that the men of the barony were all
looking at him; he knew that The Chief went on talking afterwards. But
those things impressed themselves but lightly on his mind, and they
blurred soon afterwards. Twenty years later, in retelling the story, he
would swear that The Chief had ended his speech at that point. He would
swear that it was only seconds later that The Chief had jumped down from
the gate and motioned for him to come over; his memory simply didn't
register anything between those two points.
But The Chief's words after the speech--the words spoken to him
privately--were bright and clear in his mind.
The Chief was a good three inches shorter than Anketam, but Anketam
never noticed that. He just stood there in front of The Chief, wondering
what more his Chief had to say.
"You've shown yourself to be a good farmer, Anketam," Chief Samas said
in a low voice. "Let's see--you're of Skebbin stock, I think?"