Authors: Richard Adams
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic, #Non-Classifiable, #Erotica
"How about lying down on your back, with your legs apart?" said Occula. "For a start, anyway." She ran a hand through her wiry curls. "After that your guess is as good as mine. But do try not to make a mess of it, sweetheart, woan' you? It's one hell of an opportunity."
Maia, a green silk cloak thrown over her pale-blue metlan, silver necklace and bracelets, was met in the covered forecourt of the Lord General's house by the same gracious, fair-haired woman who had opened her litter on the night of the Rains banquet. Her easy, professional affability was so welcome and reassuring that Maia forgot to ask her to pay the jekzha-man, who stood about stamping his feet and coughing until told sharply to go and see the porter.
Thereupon the saiyett led Maia through the courtyard and up a different staircase, which led into a long gallery. Brilliantly-colored, woven hangings covered the whole length of the wall opposite the windows, and in front of these, at regular intervals, stood seven jewelled and painted statues representing the gods and goddesses worshipped throughout the empire: Cran, his hair cloven with hght-ning, his arms lifted in the act of parting the sky from the earth; Airtha of the Diadem, big-bellied and smiling, suckling a crowned infant at each golden breast; Shakkarn, horned and hoofed with topaz, his bearded mouth frothing sulphur as he thrust forward like a spear his ruby-headed zard; white Lespa, a rippling, floating vision of mercy, crowned with stars and bending forward in the act of scattering dreams from her opal-studded basket upon the sleeping earth; Shardik the bear, his eyes two smoldering garnets, one huge, clawed paw raised to smite as he ramped upon his terraced Ledges; Canathron, glaring from a thicket of copper flames and raising aloft his serpent's head and condor's wings; and lastly Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, cowled, her face invisible, poised on Crandor's summit as she pointed with one lean finger to the tamarrik seed sprouting at her feet.
Maia, following her guide and stealing past these tremendous presences in so much awe that she scarcely dared
to glance at them-for if asked, she would not have been at all sure that they did not embody the actual deities themselves-came to a dark-and-light, zig-zag-panelled door which recalled to her the decorated walls of the dining-hall above. Here the saiyett stopped and, turning to Maia with a smile, made her a little, ironical bow as she held open the door with one bare, white arm.
"Is-is the Lord General there?" whispered Maia.
"No," answered the woman. "You go in and wait, and he'll come." And then, looking her up and down and speaking in a tone which made it clear that she was paying a playful compliment, "I shouldn't think he'll keep you waiting very long."
Maia felt her self-possession swaying like a tree in a gale. For a moment she clasped the other's hand.
"Saiyett-oh, I'm all of a shake-only it's the first time, see, and I don't rightly know-"
The woman's laugh, though condescending, was nevertheless kindly.
"You're lucky, then, Maia, in your first time, for I can tell you, you won't find any difficulty with the Lord General." And then, as Maia stared back, uncertain what she might mean, she nodded and gave her hand a little pat. "In you go. You'll soon see!"
She had not been altogether correct, however, in saying that Kembri would not be in the room, for just as Maia went in at the panelled door the Lord General entered through another on the further side. She had no opportunity to take in her surroundings or to become aware of more than a sense of spaciousness, luxury and warmth in the carpeted room. Indeed, she had no time even to utter a word (which was perhaps as well, for she had not the least idea what to say) before Kembri, taking four strides across the room, lifted her bodily in his arms and laid her down on the great, soft bed.
After that it took her no time at all to grasp what the saiyett had meant. As the Lord General's partner she was required to do nothing whatever but submit. He simply did as he wished, with an unhurried yet urgent and almost impersonal power like that of a river in spate, for he-or so it seemed-had little more control over their course than she had. Having seen him before only from a little distance, she had not fully realized what a huge man he was, or how overwhelming was his mere presence. Grim,
black-browed and black-bearded, even when naked he somehow seemed invisibly armored and girt with weapons. They had hardly begun before Maia intuitively grasped a paradox which unexpectedly wanned her heart and restored her confidence. In this voracious, intence silence, this total absence of any courtly attempt to show the least regard for either her inexperience or her pleasure, lay a greater intensity of sheer desire than she had yet encountered. Caught up in this driving storm, she did not fully realize that he had not spoken. She knew only that she liked what was happening. Tharrin had been accustomed to laugh and pay little compliments as he went about his pleasure. Sencho was full of snorting demands for one lewdness after another. This, though not brutal, was raw appetite, unashamed and unreflecting. She was being devoured. She writhed, half-crushed beneath the panting weight, and one of Occula's sayings flashed across what remained of her mind. "The man wants the girl. But the girl usually wants the man to want her." "Dear Lespa,
I'm
doing this lot to him!" she thought, even as the mountain split and the rocks toppled about her. "There were hundreds of girls at that banquet, but I'm the one as he sent for."
She lay in silence, wondering what might now be expected of her: but she did not have to wonder long. Plainly, nothing was expected of her but to be the recipient of the Lord General's apparently insatiable ardor. He had done nothing deliberately to hurt her, yet already she felt bruised from head to heel. When she had cried out with delicious agony, he had paid less heed than if she had been an enemy in battle. And soon after, as she sprawled exhausted, sweating and tousled as a kitchen maid at the spit, another onslaught fell upon her gasping, breathless body.
At length he lay like a felled tree. Asleep? There was no telling-but at all events oblivious of her beside him among the soft, thick rugs. She herself slept for a little, but woke with a quick start, wondering what she ought to do now. Would the proper thing, perhaps, be to get dressed and go? Yes, she thought; for she was a slave-girl, and plainly there was no more for her body to do here. Sliding quietly out of the bed, she slipped on her shift and then her metlan, picked up her cloak and tip-toed towards the door. At this moment the Lord General, behind her, spoke for the first time.
"Come back."
She jumped like a child caught stealing.
"What's the matter?" he asked, frowning as though she had done something unexpected.
"Oh, my lord, you startled me, that's all!"
He said nothing more and she did as she had been told. Undressing and getting back into the bed, she became aware at once-and incredulously-why he had called her to return. Thereupon, suddenly, the country girl supplanted the timid slave. Putting her two hands on his shoulders, she looked unafraid into the scarred, swarthy face.
"My lord, did you ever hear the story they tell where I come from, about the inn on Lake Serrelind called 'The Safe Moorings'?"
He shook his head, but behind the black beard the trace of a smile answered hers; the smile of a man who spares an idle moment to watch a puppy playing with a stick.
"Well, that inn's got a bit of a front on the lake, see, and one day there's this fellow-stranger, like-comes sailing up in his boat. Landlady comes out; 'Oh,' says he, 'I've heard you have good wine here. Bring me out a pot of your ordinary.' So she brings it out and he drinks it sitting in the boat. 'Ah!' he says. 'Well,' he says, 'I'll try another, the same.' So off she goes and gets him another, and he drinks that too. 'I'm not sure about this yet,' he says. 'Bring me another one;' and so she does. So he finishes that and then he says 'Yes,' he says, 'it is good wine. Reckon I'll come in and have some.' "
The Lord General threw back his head and laughed; then laid hold of her once more, much like a man in haste to quench a thirst. It was as though nothing had yet taken place between them. At one moment Maia found herself actually struggling to breathe. He was, she now realized, not only big but immensely strong. He could easily have crushed her ribs between his hands. And this sense of helplessness-of danger even, for he seemed beside himself as he clasped and strove-filled her with exhilaration, so that for the first time she joined him, spinning in the vortex, and came to herself to find blood trickling down his shoulder.
Dismayed and a little frightened, she picked up her shift- the only thing to hand-and was about to stanch the wound when he took it from her and tossed it aside, laughing down at her as he might have laughed at a nervous and over-conscientious child who in playing has accidentally broken something of no particular value.
She was expecting him to fall asleep again, but now he did not seem so inclined. She herself, dazed and aching, knew without being told that he was pleased. Warm and relaxed, she lay listening to the rain and wondering what would happen next.
At length he asked, "Have you had enough?"
She giggled. "S'pose I say no, my lord?"
"Then we shall have to get you another man."
"Mouse after a bull, that'd be."
He made no reply, and she wondered whether he might be annoyed. She was surprised when, after a pause, he asked, almost like someone making conversation,
"How do you like belonging to the High Counselor?"
She knew the answer to this, for Occula had stressed it to her again and again. "Never gossip to them about one another, banzi-not even if they offer you gold. Long zards are all in a night's work, but long tongues never."
"Very much, thank you, my lord."
"What sort of things d'you do with him-a man too fat to walk?"
"We do as he wishes, my lord."
"A great many people come to see him, don't they? From all over the empire. Are you ever there when he talks to them?"
"No, my lord."
"You know who these people are? You know why he sees them?"
Putting out one hand, as easily as he might have lifted a cushion he pulled her bodily round to face him.
"You do, don't you?"
"Yes, my lord: but we don't get to hear nothing about- about that side of things."
"What about your saiyett? He's almost helpless without her, isn't he? Is she there when he sees them?"
"If she is, my lord, she never talks to us."
He said no more for a time, and she hoped they had exhausted the subject.
"Did you see Otavis at the banquet?" he asked suddenly.
"Oh, ah, my lord; that I did! I reckon she's
really
beautiful."
"Did you know she belonged to me?"
"No, my lord. But-surely I saw her comin' up the stair-
case from the courtyard that evening, along o' the rest of the girls?"
"Yes. She'd been-elsewhere, working for me. But now she's able to buy herself free, I've no wish to stop her. A shearna can get to talk-and listen-to even more people than a slave-girl." After a few moments he added, "You needn't bother to tell the High Counselor. He'd probably only have her murdered, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that."
"I don't undestand you, my lord; I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're on about at all."
Kembri took her in his arms. For one incredulous instant she thought he was about to gratify himself yet again. Then he said, "I didn't send for you this afternoon because I wanted to bed with you." ;
At this she burst out laughing. "Then all I can say, my lord, is you could 'a fooled me."
His next words cut short her merriment.
"Would you like to make your fortune by taking Otavis's place?"
She stared at him, but could infer nothing from his impassive gaze.
"Well, my lord, I don't reckon the High Counselor would sell me-not just at present, anyway."
"I didn't mean that: I don't want to buy you."
He got up, flung a quilted robe round his great, shaggy body and sat down on a carved chest beside the bed.
"What people tell their rulers is nearly always what they think they want to hear. But the rulers need to know more. I need to know things-things I wouldn't be told if I asked. Do you understand?"
"But my lord, the High Counselor-isn't that
his
work- all those people who come and talk to him-"
"This is nothing to do with the High Counselor: I need my own sources of information. There are things I can't leave in the hands of a man who lives as he does. And don't go telling him what I've said, or tell your saiyett, or anyone else, do you see? If I learn that you have, I shall simply say that you're a mischievous little liar and have you put to death."
Frightened, she said no more. The Lord General, standing up, opened the chest and took out a purse stitched over with white beads. Tossing this up and down in his hand, he sat down on the bed beside her.
"In a city like this-a country like this-men trust only their closest friends; and sometimes not even them. Everyone's on his guard, and the higher up he is the fewer he trusts. Everyone has secrets-secrets about which he means never to talk. But in practice, sooner or later, everyone
does
talk. That's strange, but true: for some curious reason, a secret always gets told-to somebody-"
She stared at him silently.
"But it's very seldom told where
I
can hear it; so someone has to hear it for me."
He paused, still tossing the purse up and down. The coins clicked rhythmically, like a tiny mill-wheel, and the rain sighed on outside.
"No, naturally they're not indiscreet to me; or to Sen-cho, or to the Lord Durakkon either. But in bed-or even just in company-with a pretty little slave-girl who looks no more than a child-that's another matter. Otavis-she's very well-known now; yet even so, she still gets to hear a lot." He smiled briefly.
"You
might hear still more. For one thing, you don't belong to me, you see."
"But my lord, if I don't belong to you-"
He raised a hand. "Some things a girl simply
happens
to hear, but that's only a small part of the work. Any girl can do that. But a very pretty, much-sought-after girl- she can often learn what she seeks to learn. However much a man may mean to be on his guard, he may easily find himself talking freely to a girl like that, especially if she's shrewd and knows how to loosen his tongue. I dare say you know the old tale of the girl who refused to bed with the magician unless he agreed to give her the egg that contained his heart? He gave it to her, and she broke it."