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There was some fighting, I understand, but they got out finally. Now they've said they're going to smash us." He grinned. Anketam said: "What's so funny?" "Oh, they won't do anything," said Russat. "They fume and fuss a lot, but they won't do anything." "I hope not," said Anketam. He finished the last of his spiked tea, and Memi poured him another one.
I brought it just for you, and you're going to have some of it before you say another word. Show him, Memi." Memi was standing there, beaming, holding the bottle. Her blue eyes had faded slowly in the years since she and Anketam had married, but there was a sparkle in them now. Anketam looked at the bottle. "Bedamned," he said softly. The bottle was beautiful just as it was.
But he was careful with his information; he didn't go spreading it around for all to hear, and he made it a point to verify his information before he passed it on. Anketam respected the old man. He was the only one in the village who called him "Ank," outside of Memi. "Do you think The Chief will give her to Kevenoe?" he asked. Blejjo nodded. "Looks like it. He thinks a great deal of Kevenoe."
His skin was almost pink, bleached from years of indoor work, and looked pale and sickly, even beside Memi's sun-browned skin and Memi hadn't been out in the sun as much as her husband had. Anketam reached out and took the bottle carefully from his wife's hands.
Cervantes thus became the captive of a renegade Greek, one Deli Memi, a Corsair reïs, who, finding upon him letters of recommendation from persons of the highest consequence, Don John of Austria among them, concluded that he was a prisoner of rank, for whom a heavy ransom might be asked.
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