Maia (41 page)

"Why, you can give it to her yourself, my lord," said Maia. "Here she comes, look, and Lord Eud-Ecachlon with her."

Occula, scarlet-plumed, and Eud-Ecachlon-plucked, one might say-came down the corridor together, arms round each other's waists. It was clear that Eud-Ecachlon was feeling contented. He greeted Bayub-Otal with a smile and at once fell to praising Occula in a manner implying that he too had acquitted himself in no mean fashion. Occula, having allowed him to run on for a time and corroborated him whenever he seemed to be expecting it, at length put her lips to his cheek and asked whether he would now be so good as to escort her friend and herself to the lower courtyard, where a jekzha-so she believed-was awaiting them; and then return to convey thanks and farewells on their behalf to Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion.

"For the truth is, my lord," she explained, "that after what you've given me I shan't want any more for a week, and I'd rather not be put to the embarrassment of refusing anyone else."

Eud-Ecachlon, smirking with satisfaction, gave her a purse containing her lygol and readily undertook to do as she asked; and forthwith Occula, having sought out and paid the drummer and relieved Bayub-Otal of both her two hundred meld and Maia, made their departure.

Once in the jekzha, however, she drew down the rain-curtain and leant back, fanning the humid air and gripping Maia's hand like a child seeking comfort in the dark.

"I'm nackered, banzi! Tell you the truth, it was as much as I could do to give that Urtan dolt what he wanted. Never mind: we've got his lygol and two hundred meld on top. I shan' say anythin' to Terebinthia a£out that: she'll never find out. You didn't tell anyone, did you?"

"No, darling; there's no one but us and the Urtans knows anything about it."

"I saw you talkin' to Bayub-Otal, but I couldn' for the

life of me make out whether you'd done anythin' or not. How did you get on?"

"Well, tell you the truth, Qccula, I'm blest if I know."

And therewith Maia proceeded to tell of Bayub-Otal's odd behavior.

"Well, that
is
a rum go!" said the black girl. "Didn' want to do anythin' an' then asks whether you'd like to see him again? They certainly do come all sorts, doan' they, banzi? Only thing I can think of, he didn' feel like it tonight but reckoned he might some other time."

"Oh, I do just about hope so! Only you see, Occula, Elvair-ka-Virrion told me tonight-I was sent upstairs to him as soon as we arrived, you know-"

"Were
you, banzi? Cran's zard, I wondered where you'd got to! Was it a success?"

"Oh, yes! He enjoyed it, and so did I. I reckon he's nice! But then he told me-you know, afterwards-that I was to go and join the Urtans and make Bayub-Otal like me and want to see me again."

Occula whistled. "So
that's
what it's all about! They've got their suspicions about Bayub-Otal, have they? And they're hopin' he may let some cat out of the bag to
you?"

"But if they want information so badly, why can't they get it from Sencho? I thought he was supposed to know about everyone all over the empire?"

"I doan' know, banzi, but if you ask me, it's like I told you-Kembri doesn' trust him anymore. So Elvair-ka-Virrion gave you a good bastin' and then went on straight away to tell you to get Bayub-Otal into bed? I reckon that was a dirty trick, even if we
are
slave-girls. He might have wrapped it up a bit nicer than that."

"No, Occula, that's just it. He told me I
wasn't
to let Bayub-Otal have anything, not on any account. I was to refuse him, but try to make him want to see me again."

"And you say he means to?"

"Well, I don't rightly know. When I told him we belonged to Sencho, you could see he didn't like that at all. It seemed to sort of change his mind, like."

"Well, at that rate we can only wait and see," said Occula. "But I shouldn' break your heart if nothin' comes of it. You'd be best out of this Urtan lark, I reckon. Plenty of people'll soon be interested in you without the risk of that-whatever it may be."

"But Occula, listen! Those young Leopards I was talking

to while you were with Eud-Ecachlon-there wasn't one of them particularly interested in
me.
It was
you
they were all asking about."

"Ah, but then they'd all just had a bit of yum-yum, hadn' they? If we were still there now, you wouldn' have to wait long." Qccula paused. "Yes, well, I daresay my act may have got them interested. It was meant to. We must think up somethin' for you, too, banzi. You see, however pretty a girl is, for the upper city she really needs more than just looks: she needs somethin' to make them think she's out of the ordinary. These Leopards help themselves to the cream and leave the milk for the lower city. Up here, just pretty girls are ten meld a dozen. Look at Meris-she was pretty enough. But you just compare her with Nennaunir. D'you know what Nennaunir's like? She's like a story people want to hear again and again- because they keep findin' new things in it. She's a clever girl, too: Terebinthia told me about some big Leopard she was with who asked her to advise him about his money, and apparently she did it so well that he made a fortune and gave her a bastin' great lump of it to keep for herself."

"Can't see me ever doing anything like that," said Maia.

"Nor me neither. But I
can
make people see knives that aren' there: well, sometimes, anyway-you know, when they've all had a few drinks. But we've
got
to find somethin' distinctive for
you.
Well, of course! We'll make you a dancer!"

The jekzha stopped and she peeped out through the rain-curtain. "But jus' now what we seem to have found is old Piggy's house, so we'd better go in, I suppose."

Nevertheless, Occula refused to get down in the rain, insisting that the jekzha-man, before being paid and dismissed, should call the porter to open the gate and then pull them into the covered courtyard. To the sleepy Jarvil, however, she was all civility, thanking him for his trouble and even, with a detachment worthy of a baron's wife, sliding two meld of her own into his palm before taking the lamp he proffered and disappearing down the corridor to the women's quarters.

"D'you think there'll be any hot waiter?" said Maia, pausing at the door and taking the lamp from Occula to light another on a ledge near-by. "I wouldn't half like some, but I'm not going to knock poor old Ogma up at this time of night-"

"What in Cran's name's that?" said Occula suddenly, grasping her wrist. "Did you hear it?"

They both stood still, listening. For some moments there was no sound. Then, from somewhere beyond the door, they both heard muffled weeping-sobs, a shuddering, indrawn breath and then silence once more.

The two girls stared at each other.

"Dyphna?" whispered Maia at length.

"No, nor yet Ogma," answered Occula. "Someone else."

"Ought we to get Terebinthia; or Jarvil?"

"No, to hell with that!" said Occula. "If it were a man- but it's not. We'll find out for ourselves. Come on!"

Opening the door quietly, they went on through the bead curtains and across the main room, where the still pool lay glimmering in the reflection of their lamps. Their own room was empty.

"Dyphna can't be in her room or she'd have heard it too," said Maia.

"No, she's probably with Piggy," replied Occula. "Mer-is's room-we'd better go and look."

Picking up the lamp, she led the way. Maia, following and peering over her shoulder in the doorway, saw that there was indeed someone in the room-a girl sitting up in the bed, clutching the coverlet about her and cowering from the strange, black face of the intruder.

Slipping past Occula, Maia sat down on the bed and took the girl's hand in her own.

"You don't have to be afraid of us," she said. "Tell us who you are."

The girl, without replying, tugged to release her hand. Maia let it go and put an arm round her shoulders.

"Don't know whether anyone's hurt you since you come here," she said, "but
we
shan't, tell you that."

The girl, she now saw, was not much more than her own age, though slimmer and lighter. She had unusually large eyes, dark-brown hair and beautifully-shaped lips. What with the lamplight and her face smeared and contorted with weeping, it was difficult to make out more.

"You know who this'U be, doan' you?" said Occula to

Maia, sitting down at the other end of the bed. "The girl to replace Meris. Well, I knew Terebinthia was a bastin' cow, but I wouldn' have believed that even she'd have shut a banzi like this in here on her own and then gone off to bed."

"Careful, Occula," whispered Maia. "She might be just outside the door."

"I doan' give two farts if she is," said Occula loudly. "Let her come in, and I'll give her a piece of my bastin' mind! Everybody knows if a girl who's pitchforked into this game's to get over the shock and turn out any good at all, she's got to be looked after and let down light to begin with. Even old Domris knew that. Terebinthia's not fit to be a saiyett: goin' the right way to ruin her master's property, and I've a damn good mind to tell him so."

"Might do more good just now to get this girl straightened out a bit," said Maia. "Suppose we-"

"-do the saiyett's damn' job for her," said Occula, "just to top off a jolly evenin' with the Urtans! Yes, all right, banzi. I know there's some wine left in that cupboard by the pool, and I dare say there may be somethin' to eat somewhere. Keep her happy: I'll be back before a dog can piss on a wall."

"You needn't be afraid of her," said Maia, as Occula disappeared into the passage. "Dare say you've never seen anyone like her before, but that's just her natural color. She talks rough, but she's got a very kind heart. Come on, now, try and tell me about yourself. What's your name?"

"Milvushina," answered the girl quietly. Her voice was unexpectedly low and smooth. She had stopped crying and was now leaning back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply.

"Where you from?"

"Chalcon."

Maia, filled with curiosity, was about to go on to ask her how she had come to Bekla and whether it was Lalloc who had sold her to Sencho, when it occurred to her that probably this would only add to the girl's misery and upset her further.

"Have you had any supper?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," answered the girl. She leaned across, picked up a towel and wiped her face. "It's good of you to have come in. I was-I-" She seemed about to break down again, but then, controlling herself, said, "I'm sorry

to have given you the trouble. You can go now, if you like."

Maia was startled to realize, from her manner and tone of voice, that this must be a girl from a well-to-do family. Despite her earlier tears, she was now trying to put on a show of self-control and even detachment. Her air bore some faint resemblance to that of a lady addressing a servant. In other circumstances this would have angered Maia. As it was, it merely made the girl seem more pathetic. She decided to refrain altogether from further questions and merely to talk in a friendly, reassuring way until Occula returned.

"There's three of us here just now," she said. "Not counting you, I mean. It's not so bad, really, once you get used to it. The important thing's to keep on the right side of the saiyett, 'cos she's the one as really says what's to be done, see? The High Counselor can't hardly do without her."

Milvushina shuddered, biting her lip. Maia guessed that she might already have been inspected and approved by Sencho in much the same way as she herself had been.

"You can work for your freedom, you know," she went on. "If a girl can get the price together they've got to accept it and write her free; that's the law. That's why you want to keep in with Terebinthia; only she can either help or hinder you, see-makes all the difference. Dyphna'll be buying herself free any time now, and she's not much older than Occula. She'll probably be a shearna by the spring."

"I don't want to be a shearna," replied the girl coldly. She buried her face in her hands; not, as it seemed, to conceal more tears, but rather to shut out what lay around her.

Maia got up, went across to the window and stood looking out into the rainy darkness. A few moments later Occula returned, carrying a plate and wine-flask. Milvushina started and drew in her breath sharply.

"Oh," she said. "You startled me!"

"Oh, I scare the bugs out of the woodwork," replied Occula. "Now you listen to me, my lass. It's late at night, you're half out of your mind and I doan' blame you. We're not goin' to talk and you're not goin' to argue. You're just goin' to let us look after you."

Before Milvushina could reply she went on, "It'll be

easier if you do what I say. Eat this-it's bread and cheese- best I can do at this time of night-and drink this wine; I've warmed it over the lamp. After that you're goin' to sleep with Maia here, in the other room, so that there'll be someone with you. I'll sleep in here."

The girl hesitated and seemed about to reply.

"I doan' want to hear anythin' more tonight," said Oc-cula. "I just want to get to bed myself." She stood up, leaning against the wall with folded arms. "There
is
some warm water, banzi. I've put it in the basin in the other room, so get on and doan' let it get cold."

Maia, giving her a quick kiss, slipped out. She had just finished washing when Occula came in, her arm round Milvushina's shoulders. Having helped the girl into bed she drew up the coverlet and sat down beside her. In a matter of minutes Milvushina was asleep.

"I doan' think she'll give you any trouble, banzi," whispered Occula, hanging up Maia's towel and helping her on with the supportive bodice which Terebinthia had told her to wear in bed. "If I know anything about it, she'll sleep for about ten hours."

Maia frowned, puzzled. "Why? How's she gone off so quick, anyway?"

" 'Cos I've bastin' well drugged her, that's why," answered the black girl shortly.

"Drugged
her, Occula? What with?"

"With tessik, that's what."

Maia shook her head.

"Tessik's a drug the Ortelgan priestesses make on Quiso- their Telthearna island, you know. I got some a year or so back, from a fellow in Thettit-the same one as gave me the smoke, remember? I never thought I'd have any use for it, but at least I took the trouble to find out what the dose is. Doan' let anyone else know we've got it, banzi; certainly not Pussy-cat. Now get off to sleep yourself. If you're as tired as I am, neither of us'll be missin the other much tonight."

An hour or so after dawn the following morning Maia, having woken to the familiar sound and scent of the rain, slipped out of bed, leaving Milvushina still in a heavy sleep, and went along the passage to the main room, where she found Ogma scrubbing the drained pool. Sending her off to the kitchen to fetch some breakfast, she sat down beside the newly-lighted stove and was reflecting on Bayub-Otal's

curious behavior of the night before when Occula came in, washed and dressed, with gilded eyelids and scarlet finger-nails.

Maia stared at her. "It's not that late, surely? He won't want us before mid-day."

"Well, apparently he woke early," replied Occula, "and told Terebinthia one of us was to come as soon as he said. That's me, banzi-always live and ready. But now it seems he's gone back to sleep again."

She sat down, staring at the flames and drumming her fingers on the bench.

"Something on your mind?" asked Maia.

Occula, without turning her head, nodded, but still said nothing. At length she asked, "Would you say I was tough?"

"Very."

"That's what
I
thought, too. Well, now I just want to be sick-all over everyone in this bastin' house. I wish I'd stayed down in Thettit; I really do."

"Why, for Cran's sake? What's up?"

At this moment Ogma came back with Maia's breakfast-eggs, milk, butter, fruit and warm bread. Maia, jumping up, went across to the table and set to.

"Shall I bring you the same, Miss Occula?" asked Ogma. "Very likely you'll have time before the High Counselor wakes up again."

"I'll call you," replied Occula absently. "Just leave us for now, Ogma, there's a dear."

When the girl had gone she came over and sat down opposite Maia, elbows on the table and chin in her hands.

"I've been talking to Dyphna."

Maia scraped her egg. "How nice for you!"

"Doan' give me that shit, banzi!" stormed the black girl, banging her fist on the boards, "or I'll knock your blasted deldas off! I'm just in no damn' mood to-"

"I'm
sorry,
dear!" replied Maia, surprised. "Whatever's upset you so much?"

"Dyphna's been tellin' me who that Chalcon girl is and why she's here."

Maia waited.

"D'you
know
who she is?" asked Occula.

"No, 'course I don't."

"She's the daughter of a baron called Enka-Mordet, in Chalcon; a friend of Santil-ke-Erketlis, Dyphna said. That's to say, he was."

Maia put down her bread and stared. The black girl continued in a low but steady voice.

"You know who the
heldril
are, doan' you? It means 'old-fashioned people'-landowners out in the provinces who go as far as they dare to show they doan' like the Leopards. There's always been a lot of heldro feelin' in Tonilda-'specially in Chalcon. They're all heldril there, and the Leopards know it. Probably the most disaffected province in the whole empire. Everyone knows Sencho's been watchin' them for a long time now. Erketlis is still quite young, you know, but he's the biggest baron in those parts, and if he came out openly against the Leopards there'd be plenty who'd follow him. Those men who were here the other day-you can be certain some of them were agents from down that way."

She crossed the room, went through the bead curtains to the outer door and listened carefully before coming back to the bench.

"It was Dyphna who told me about Enka-Mordet of Chalcon, this mornin'. Apparently Sencho was talkin' to her last night, in between enjoym' himself. He was so pleased with his own cleverness he couldn' resist tellin' her. Enka-Mordet was Senda-na-Say's nephew, and he had a wife and two grown sons."

"You mean the Leopards have killed them all?" asked Maia.

Occula nodded. "Dyphna says Kembri sent about two hundred men, an' they reached Chalcon from Bekla in less than three days."

"Through the rains?" asked Maia. "Surely not?"

"Yes, they did. Apparently half of them are down with fever now; but they finished what they went for, so Kembri woan' be mindin' about that. They killed Enka-Mordet and his wife and sons. But now hear this. On Sencho's personal orders the daughter, Milvushina, was brought back here, for him. 'So she hasn't cost me a meld,' he said to Dyphna."

Maia was silent for some little time. At length she said, "Well, s'pose it's no worse for her than it was for you."

"P'raps not," answered Occula, "but I doan' care to hear you talkin' like that, banzi. Believe me, it's a great mistake to let yourself get so tough that you never feel sorry for anyone. It shows in your face after a time, and that's when you're on the way out-hard as nails and look

it. Meris was beginnin' to look that way. I feel sorry for this wretched girl.
You
ought to feel sorry for her. But you doan' like her, do you?"

"I never said so."

"No, but I can tell what you're thinkin'. 'She's a baron's daughter, ha, ha, and now she's come down to no better than us.' Yes?"

"I never-"

"Yes, you did," said Occula sharply.
"Of course
it's bad for slaves, banzi-it's a rotten world-but it's even worse for that poor girl. It's not her fault who she is or where she was born. She's been through enough to drive any girl stark, ravin' mad and if we doan' look after her, she probably
will
be."