Esta’s composure softened and the largeman relaxed his tense stand. “You should know better than to talkof times before the Collapse,” he admonished. “It is said that towish for the old times out loud is to bring down the wrath of theDark One on you and your kin.”

“But you don’t believe that,do you?” pressured Arik.

“Of course not,” blustered theinnkeeper. “Still, if anyone heard me talking, the town wouldboycott my inn. There aren’t enough travelers to survive on. Idepend on the townspeople coming in and eating and drinking. Ican’t afford to alienate anyone.”

“I won’t tell a soul,”promised Arik.

“Well, truth be told, you areof the age to be making up your own mind now and soon you’ll betaking a wife,” whispered Esta. “I suppose you have the right toknow the truth for what it’s worth.”

“I reckon I do,” smiled Arik,“but I’m not making promises to any girls.”

“A smart lad,” laughed Estawhile glancing around to make sure that they were still alone.“It’s true enough, it is. When I was a younger man, Lorgo was afine town, almost a city. It was a town in the great nation ofSordoa, which was so large that it would take a month on a fasthorse to go from border to border and everywhere that rider went,the sun would shine all day long. At night you could look up andsee the heavens, a thousand twinkling lights dancing around theblack sky. When the moon was full, you could read a book by itslight and it used to cast a long swath of golden light over thesea, calling lovers down to the beaches to marvel at itsreflection.”

“I’ve read about the moon, butit’s hard to imagine the sight you describe,” sighed Arik. “Werethere bandits back then, too?”