Maia (125 page)

He shrugged. "Well, at that rate I can only leave it to them to say whether or not they'll take you along."

He turned to Malendik. "You'd better bring them in here: then they can see her for themselves and make up their own minds."

Malendik gone, they sat in silence. Maia was thinking. "Whoever they are, they're not going to stop me going to the gaol."

She began imagining what she would say to Pokada, what he might reply and how she would set about prevailing upon him.

The blanket across the entrance was drawn aside and two people sidled in; a woman followed by a man. In the lamplight, Maia looked blankly for a moment at their pinched, bedraggled forms: then she uttered a startled cry.

"Meris!"

"Maia!"

The two girls stared at each other. Behind Meris stood

a gaunt figure-none other than the Tonildan pedlar, Zirek. He was pale as a plant kept long in the dark, hollow-cheeked and sunken-eyed as any dungeon inmate, yet still with a faint touch of his old, vagabond swagger. Indeed, he was less changed than Meris, that one-time exquisite paragon of hard-bitten, worldly sensuality. She had all the look of a girl who, having endured months of anxiety, was now close to collapse. Her dark hair hung about her shoulders lank as rope. Her lips twitched continually and she could not keep her hands still. After a few moments, without another word, she sat down unsteadily on one of the benches. '

Zirek stepped forward and took Maia's hands.

"There's no hard feelings as far as I'm concerned, Maia."

"Hard feelings, Zirek? Why should there be?"

"Well, you saved the damned Leopards all right, didn't you, swimming the river? But just speaking personally, I wouldn't have cared to see the empire fall to Karnat: I'd rather see it fall to Santil. Perhaps it will now, if only the gods are kind. Besides, you helped us kill Sencho, didn't you, even if you didn't know it at the time? So I say, no hard feelings."

Magnanimity sat strangely on him, she thought. In his rags and pallor he looked squalid as any beggar. But he was clean-life in the upper city had made her sensitive and fastidious on this score-and there was something about him which suggested that in spite of everything he had retained both humor and self-respect.

"I knew all along as it must 'a been you and Meris," she said. " 'Cos d'you know, I saw you, that same morning in the crowd at the Peacock Gate? But what beats me is, however did you get away? I reckoned you must be dead for sure."

"It was the tryzatt on the western wall that night," he answered. "He was a Tonildan, you see, who'd been a servant of Senda-na-Say. It was all arranged beforehand: he got us out along the rampart. He was never suspected, and for all I know he's still in the service."

"And you've been hiding here ever since? All these months?"

"Yes, and I'm basting near mad with it!" broke in Meris. "I wish to Cran I'd never said I'd do it! Oh, Maia, you can't imagine-"

"Steady, love," said Zirek. "It's over now, good as.

We're going to get out tonight, remember? We owe everything to N'Kasit here," he went on, turning back to Maia. "He's hidden us all this time, and he didn't stand to get anything out of it. Once we'd done the job, you see, we were no further use to the heldril."

"Well, even I'm not quite as canny as that," said N'Kasit, with the trace of a smile. "All the same," he said to Maia, 'it was touch and go more than once. It's not easy to search a place like this, of course-full of holes and corners piled up with stuff-but Kembri's lot were very thorough and they came back more than once. Luckily, I've got a good reputation. The Leopards think I'm a loyal, reliable army contractor."

"And what the hell are
you
doing here, Maia?" asked Meris, in none too friendly a tone.

"I want to get out of Bekla with you," replied Maia.

Meris stared, bunking and twitching. N'Kasit broke in, "She's got good reason. Fornis reached Bekla this afternoon; her and Han-Glat-"

"Fornis?" cried Zirek. "Never!"

"Yes; so the Serrelinda's just told me. I know it seems incredible, but isn't everything about that woman incredible? She" (he pointed to Maia) "got home this evening to find Randronoth of Lapan and her own porter murdered and her house turned upside-down. And she was lucky, at that: they missed her. Occula sent her here to us."

"Occula? That girl's got more courage than all the rest of us put together," said Zirek. "But you say you want to come with us, Maia? That's a shade awkward, is that."

"But I can't go on my own, Zirek. Please-"

"Well, the trouble is, everyone knows you by sight, don't they? And Fornis is sure to have left orders at the gates. They'll obey
her
all right, you can be sure of that. Eud-Ecachlon'll be no match for her; he may even be dead already."

"Seekron might be a match for her, though."

"Seekron? Who's he?"

Maia told them of Randronoth's plan to seize the city and what she had already seen from the western ramparts.

"Cran alive! That alters things!" said Zirek. "Couldn't be better for us, N'Kasit, could it? Eud-Ecachlon, Fornis and Seekron all at each other's throats. The whole place'll be-"

"There's another thing, Zirek," broke in Maia. "I've

got money with me-a fair old bit, too-reckon you'll find it come in useful." She smiled. "I suppose you could have it off me and then go by yourselves, but I hope you won't."

"Cran and Airtha, what d'you take me for?" he replied with a touch of asperity. Then he grinned, recalling the jaunty lad who had come to sell his gew-gaws to Sencho's concubines. "The money'll come in handy, I dare say, but it's the pleasure of your company that makes such a delightful prospect, m'dear. You never know, we might even need a swimmer, too, 'fore we're done. How soon do we start, N'Kasit?"

"Soon as you like," replied N'Kasit. ''But remember, Zirek, it was your own decision to take the Serrelinda. I didn't force it on you, and I don't want anyone saying later that I did."

"You must be the only man in Bekla who's ever thought of
her
company as being forced on anyone," replied Zirek. "You cold old fish! I hope you make your fortune! You deserve to. When Santil gets here, he'll cart you off to the upper city and make you a baron, I expect." He took the merchant's hands in his own. "Thanks for all you've done. May the gods bless you! What more can I say? I hope we meet again one of these days. Can you give us some good, stout shoes, and perhaps a bite of food to take along with us?"

"Shoes-you're in the right place for those, and cloaks too," said N'Kasit. "They can come out of stock. The food'll have to be bread and cheese-what there is of it."

Twenty minutes later, Malendik having been sent out to look up and down the street, Maia, Meris and Zirek slipped unobtrusively out of a side door and set off downhill towards the alleys of the Shilth.

It was no more than three hundred yards to the gate of

the gaol. As they reached it Maia stopped and turned to

Zirek.

"I'm going in here, Zirek. It won't take long." "Why, what the hell d'you mean, Maia? This is the gaol,

for Airtha's sake!" "I know; that's 'zackly why I'm going in. The Ban of

Suba's in there. Fornis brought him up here as a hostage, but he's coming out with us now."

"Maia, have you gone stark, raving mad? It can't be done! What makes you think they'll hand him over to you?"

"Money," she answered. "Come on, quick; let's get it over with."

"You didn't say anything about this to N'Kasit, did you?"

"No; but I'm going in all the same. You can either come with me or wait out here."

"But-but it doesn't make sense, Maia! If it wasn't for what you did at the river, he'd never have been taken prisoner at all, would he?"

"Maybe," she said, "but sometimes things change. Are you coming or not?"

It was Meris who replied. "No, we're not: you'll never come out of there alive, Maia. You might as well go and give yourself up to Fornis straight away."

Maia looked at Zirek, but he only nodded in corroboration. Without another word she turned and left them, walking resolutely across the road and up to the gate of the gaol without once looking back.

The mucous-eyed, listless gatekeeper was on duty in his lodge. She gave him twenty meld. Once, she thought, it was nothing at all: then it was five. You pay your own fear.

"I have to see U-Pokada at once: I'll wait in his room."

The stuffy little room was in darkness and she made the man leave her his lamp. She could not sit still, but paced up and down-five steps this way, five that-praying passionately to Lespa, yet hardly knowing what she was saying in her tension and anxiety.

At length the door opened and Pokada appeared with a second lamp, wiping his dyed beard with the back of his hand. Evidently she had interrupted his supper. His manner suggested none of his former obsequiousness. He shut the door behind him, bowed and stood waiting without a word.

"I hope I find you well, U-Pokada," she said.

"I am well, thank you, saiyett; but busy. How can I help you?"

"U-Pokada, I'm in haste too, so I'll tell you straight out. I'll give you ten thousand meld, money down, to hand two prisoners over to me immediately."

"Ten thousand meld, saiyett? That's a lot of money." He paused, then repeated unsmilingly. "Yes, that's a lot of money, ten thousand meld."

"Well," she said, "it's no less than I'll pay, I assure you."

He seemed to be deliberating. "Which two would those be, saiyett, I wonder?"

"Lord Bayub-Otal, the Urtan, and a Katrian officer named Captain Zen-Kurel."

"Ah. Yes. Well, saiyett, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go and look at my lists. I take it those are two of the prisoners who came in this afternoon, with the Sacred Queen?"

"Yes, they are."

He went out. The silence returned. How lifeless this dismal place seemed always to be! she thought. Every least, intermittent noise was like a stone thrown into a pool. Someone went quickly by outside. A dog barked. A door banged. There was a sound of running feet dying away in the distance.

She stood looking out of the north-facing window. The comet had become so dim that anyone not having seen it before would hardly, she supposed, have spared it a glance. A mere glow in the sky it seemed, no longer the radiant emissary of Lespa. Filled with sudden misgiving, she shivered and turned away.

Pokada returned. "Yes, I have these two men in my charge, saiyett."

"And you'll release them to me for that sum?"

He made no reply, so that at length she repeated it.

He shook his head. "It's not possible, saiyett, for that money; no, nor for any money, I'm afraid. I'm answerable for them to the Sacred Queen, you see."

"The whole city's upside-down," she said. "You could always say they escaped."

"No one escapes from here: I'd be the one upside-down, saiyett, believe me."

"I'll pay you generously. Perhaps I could just manage a little more than ten thousand meld."

He sat down. "Well, shall we talk about it, saiyett? I don't mind talking about it, you know. Yes, let's discuss it for a little while."

But there was a kind of temporizing in his manner, a lack of conviction, which puzzled and disturbed her.

"You mean, talk about how much?"

"Well, yes; and about what you'll do with them-where they go and so on."

"But I can't see that that's anything to do with you, U-Pokada. Why should you want to know that?"

"Well, you see, saiyett-you see- Have you ever been to Ikat Yeldashay?"

"No, never. But what's that got to do with it? U-Pokada, please-"

"Well, I was there once, you know. Yes, I was there once. Oh, some years ago, now. A nice city. Yes. But now it's in the hands of Santil-ke-Erketlis, they say. That's not good, is it? But of course General Kembri will beat him. No doubt of that-"

"U-Pokada, what's all this got to do with the prisoners?"

"Well, you see, saiyett, if you were going to Ikat Yeldashay, now-"

"U-Pokada, I don't want to appear rude, and I know as I can't afford to offend you, but I'm in great haste. If we're going to come to an agreement, for Cran's sake can we do it quickly, because-"

The door was flung open and two soldiers came into the room, their swords drawn in their hands. Maia, jumping up from where she was sitting, started back against the wall. Pokada also rose, but he showed no surprise, merely standing with folded arms as one of the two soldiers looked from him to herself.

"Is this the girl?" asked the soldier, and Pokada replied, "Yes."

Staring at them in the lamplight, Maia wondered what it was that seemed unfamiliar. The older was a tryzatt, the younger a common soldier. Both had an outlandish appearance, and their uniform, too, was unusual. Then, with an even worse access of fear, she saw that both were wearing the Fortress cognizance of Paltesh. These men were Palteshis.

The tryzatt seized her arm. "Are you Maia Serrelinda?"

She struggled, and he gripped her tighter. "Yes, yes, she is!" said Pokada, rubbing his hands. "You came quick. You came quick. That's good! That's very good!"

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"Guard commander at the Gate of Lilies: I'm arresting you on the Sacred Queen's instructions."

"What for?"

"She'll tell you that when she sees you."

Itt dread worse than ever she had known she stood, her legs almost giving way under her, while they tied her hands behind her back. Then the tryzatt, nodding curtly to Po-kada, followed the soldier as he pushed her out into the yard.

"Will you-will you let me go for ten thousand meld?" she asked, as they approached the gate.

"Not for twenty, neither," answered the tryzatt in his grating, Palteshi accent. "You're going to Queen Fornis, that's where you're going."

Suddenly both soldiers stopped, peering ahead of them towards the gate of the gaol. There was a flurry of tossing torches, their resinous, smoky smell drifting across the yard. Together with this came a sound of voices, stamping boots and the clink of arms and accoutrements. Evidently a considerable body of men had just entered the gate.

The two Palteshis stood irresolute. However, they did not have to wait long. Four torches detached themselves from the mass and came quickly towards them. Within a minute they were surrounded by a group of ten or twelve soldiers, led by a heavily-built man wearing the insignia of a captain.

"You belong to General Han-Glat?" asked the captain brusquely.

"We serve him and the Sacred Queen, sir. Tryzatt Nethik, acting on orders from-"

"Save your breath and you might even save your life, if you're lucky. Hand over your arms."

The tryzatt hesitated. "May I respectfully ask, sir-"

"Who I am? Captain Mendel-el-Ekna of Lapan, that's who I am. In case you didn't know, Bekla's now under command of Lord RandronOth."

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"Respect my venda." He drew his sword. "Hand over your arms, or you won't even have the chance to wish you had."

The two Palteshis, having no alternative, obeyed.

"Right," said the captain. "Now, I've taken over this gaol; have you got that? Are there any more of you Pa-tleshis here?"

"No, sir."

"If that turns out to be a lie you'll be killed. Where's the prison governor?"

The tryzatt pointed across the yard.

"Who's this girl? What were you going to do with her?"

"The Sacred Queen gave orders that she was to be arrested wherever she might be found, sir. I was appointed guard commander at the Gate of Lilies this evening, and I received a message from the governor of the gaol, that she was here. 'Cordingly I came and arrested her."

"Why are you wanted by Queen Fornis, then?" asked the captain, turning to Maia. "Untie her hands," he added to one of his own men.

"I'm Maia Serrelinda," she answered. "Queen Fornis-"

"Maia Serrelinda, the friend of Lord Randronoth?"

She hesitated no more than a moment. "Yes."

Disconcertingly, the captain dropped on one knee and proffered the hilt Of his sword. Smiling, she laid one hand on it and he stood up.

"And what can we have the honor of doing for you, saiyett?"

"I came here to ask the governor for the release of two prisoners-my friends; victims of the queen-but he kept me talking in his room so that he could betray me to these Palteshis."

"Did
he?" replied Mendel-el-Ekna. "Fearon," he said to his own tryzatt, "go back and take over at the gate. The rest of you, come with me."

When they thrust their way into his room Pokada-for he was still there-sprang up and cowered against the wall, grasping quickly enough that these were no friends. Mendel-el-Ekna was about to run him through when Maia caught his arm.

"Don't, captain! Spare him, for my sake!"

"But you say this is the man who betrayed you to the Palteshis?"

"Yes, but I can't bear to see anyone else killed. I've seen-oh, I've seen that many today, I'm half mad with it! Please spare him!"

"You dirty bastard!" said the captain, hitting Pokada across the face. "Think yourself lucky! Now go and fetch the saiyett the men she asked you for, and basting quickly, too! You three go with him, and if he tries any nonsense, kill him!"

They waited, eight or nine of them crammed into the little room. The smell of unwashed, sweating men was overpowering. Her wrists smarted where the cord had chafed

them. I can't stand much more, she thought. Reckon I'll faint in a minute.

"Stuffy in here," remarked Mendel-el-Ekna suddenly. He pulled open the wooden shutters, wrenched them off the hinges and threw them out into the yard. "That's better." One of his men caught Maia's eye and winked.

"Will you be needing an escort?" went on the captain. "You and your friends-where are you going?"

"I just want to get them out of Bekla," she answered. "Anywhere'll do for now."

He frowned, puzzled. "Were you going to return to Lord Randronoth alone, then, across the city?"

"There was a man with me before I was arrested by the Palteshis-a man and another girl-only in all the confusion we got separated, see?"

"So you came in here by yourself? That must have taken some courage."

"She's the Serrelinda, sir, ain't she?" said one of the men.

"We'll escort you as far as the Blue Gate," said the captain. "I've got to go back there, anyway."

Before she could reply the door opened and two of the three soldiers returned. With them were Bayub-Otal and- and-O Cran!-her heart missed a beat and she actually staggered, clutching at the captain's arm for support. Yes, it was indeed Zen-Kurel.

If the sight of Zirek had caught her unprepared, the sight of Zen-Kurel utterly overwhelmed her. She stood crushed and shattered by the recognition, tears streaming from her eyes.

Not infrequently it happens that a person-or even a place-deeply loved and lost, becomes in memory more an idea in the heart than a precise visual recollection. It is as though what has been clung to and valued were not the outward semblance, the visible form-that is only the shell of a nut-but rather what it signifies. Thus, the memory of home is less the actual look of the place than the recollection of security and of being cherished. To a girl, the memory of her lover may well transcend his bodily and facial appearance-left far below, as it were-to signify rather the delight of love-making and of being understood and esteemed more deeply than she had ever believed possible. Actually to set eyes on him once more in the flesh often has an unexpected impact, for in absence the

mind had retained only vaguely the details of features; yet now these, which during separation were confined in some shadowy kennel of the memory, come bounding forth, pell mell, like released dogs jumping on a homecoming master and stopping him in his tracks.

Yet Maia's case, though of this nature, was in addition grievous and horrifying beyond expression. What she felt was like the infliction of a wound. Her first, spontaneous association was of a ballad that old Drigga used to sing- a ballad which, when she had been a little girl, had more than once frightened her to tears. It was the chilling tale of Terembro, the dead lad who returned to visit his former love by night. The very words came back to her; she could hear them, sung in old Drigga's quavering voice.

"O my dear heart, my dearest lover, Where's that color you'd some time ago?"

"O the grave has worn me and the clay has torn me; I'm but the ghost of your Terembro."

Bayub-Otal, tall and raw-boned as he had always been, looked more or less as she remembered, though plainly suffering from cruel privation. But Zen-Kurel; her beautiful Zenka, the handsome, light-hearted, devil-may-care young officer who had made her laugh for joy at nothing, had teased her out of absurdity and then teased her back into it, in whose secure arms she had lain in tears of happiness! Ah! gods! nothing in her life had ever remotely approached what she underwent in the moment that she recognized this groping, helpless wreck of her former lover. It was not possible, she thought, to suffer like this. It was beyond the frame of the world and the order of things appointed: the gods must surely intervene to stop it. Yet they did not.