Maia (44 page)

At length, roused out of sleepy contentment by the gongs of the clock towers sounding for the sixth hour after noon, she sat up in panic.

"O Lespa! That's never the time? Oh, I'll just about have to fly! No, don't try to stop me, my lord" (as he put his arm round her), "you'll only get me into trouble. But next time you're in Bekla-oh, soon soon soon!"

"It can't be too soon for me," he answered. "I'll let you know in good time, Maia, when I'm coming back. To tell you the truth, I like you better than Occula."

Occula's sophisticated expertise might perhaps have been a little too much for him, she thought. Indeed, now that she had got to know him for herself, she could sense as much. So she, Maia, could actually manage something Occula couldn't! Eud-Ecachlon was the better for her, and she was the better for knowing it. He wouldn't forget her: that she was sure of. (Nor, as will be seen, did he.)

Dressed-more or less-and climbing into the jekzha for which the porter's boy had run out into the rain, she leaned back in a state of delightful self-satisfaction, fingering the lygol in her pocket (which felt heavy) and with her other hand fanning the humid air before her face.

It was not Maia's way-as it is many people's-to cool down excitement or gratification by searching for snags. (If only it had been, of course, she would probably never have become a slave-girl at all.) On the contrary, she normally gave full rein to every mood, one way or the other, until the fit was out. Now, triumphant in the waning light, she pulled aside the rain curtain and rode down the street like a princess, gazing from side to side and even, once or twice, happily waving to those passers-by (and there were more than a few) who chanced to look at her.

Thus gazing about her, she noticed a sweet-shop a little way up the road. Its lamps, which had already been lit, glistened invitingly on ju-jubes, crystallized fruits, slabs of toffee and honey-nut thrUsa like that which Tharrin had given her in the fishing-net. After all her romping activity,

Maia was hungry (and to do him justice, Eud-Ecachlon would probably have done something about this, if only she had given him time). At the mere sight of the confectionery her mouth began to water, and a moment later, as the jekzha moved nearer, she caught the spicy, nutty smell of the shop, warm from the lamps.

Oh, bugger Terebinthia! she thought. Who did she think she was, anyway? When Terebinthia was an old hag with rotten teeth, she, Maia, would be a golden shearna and the friend of princes. And talking of teeth-

"Stop a moment!" she said to the jekzha-man. "I'm going into that sweet-shop; I shan't be a minute!"

Taking his hand to help herself down, she crossed the paved, well-drained footway-it still delighted her that in Bekla the rains were mudless-and went in under the propped-up, penthouse shutter of the shop.

Beside the scales, with their pile of little, brass weights, an old woman, black-clad, was sitting on a stool, while near-by a sturdy young fellow, holding a stick, leant against the wall. Maia could guess well enough what his job was, for in cities of the Beklan Empire sweet-shops had an effect no different from that which they had always had on penniless urchins.

"Good evening, mother!" she smiled, throwing back the hood of her cloak and giving the old woman the full benefit of her happy elation. "Would you like to sell me some thrilsa?"

The old woman, who knew all the local shearnas by sight, stared to see such a young, pretty girl out by herself. At all events, she thought, the customer looked well-dressed and prosperous.

"Is it the best you'd like, my dear?" she said. "There's two or three kinds, but this one's made with serrardoes, look-very nice."

She held up a piece between a none-too-clean finger and thumb.

"Oh, yes that does seem nice," said Maia, bending forward and sniffing. The smell vividly recalled Tharrin and the net."It looks even nicer than the kind the High Counselor usually has. D'you reckon p'raps I ought to take him some back for a treat?"

In her high spirits, the idea of standing treat to the High Counselor struck her as exquisitely funny, and she roared with laughter.

The old woman stopped hitting the slab of thrilsa with her little hammer and looked round at her sharply.

"Are you the girl from the High Counselor's?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," answered Maia, in a tone that meant "and proud of it, too!"

The old woman put her face close to Maia's.

"Why have you come here yourself?" she whispered. "D'you want to get us all killed?"

"What-whatever do you mean?" gasped Maia, stepping back in astonishment and alarm. Presumably the poor old thing must be a little touched.

The old woman paused, uncertainly it seemed, as though in her turn wondering what to make of her visitor. Then, turning back to the tray of thrilsa, she said, "Oh, just my little joke, my dear: you mustn't mind me. Oh, look over there, now! There's my old cat coming in, see? Need a sharp cat in a sweet-shop, you know: Colonna, we call her."

This brought to Maia's mind the recollection of Zirek and Occula chaffing each other about the pottery ornament. She had never understood the joke, whatever it might be. All the same, perhaps she could make use of it for a bit of light conversation to turn what had seemed to be going to be an awkward corner. For all she knew the point might be something quite clever and amusing.

"Well, you call her Colonna, mother, and I'll call her Bakris, and let's see which one she answers to, shall we?"

In an instant the old woman had grabbed her by the wrist and half-dragged her into the back of the shop. Maia, really frightened now as she remembered the jewels she was wearing, was beginning "Let me go! The High Counselor-" when the old woman, speaking low and quickly, said "You little fool! Why did you come yourself? Thought you had more sense! We'd have found a way to let you know. But since you're here, listen! The night of the New Year festival, in the
zoan
grove at the far end of the Barb gardens. Repeat it!"

Maia, stammering, did so, and the old woman released her.

"Now get out quick! And put your hood up, too."

Now that she knew she was not going to be robbed or hurt, Maia began to feel angry. "My thrUsa-"

"Oh, take it! Take it!" cried the old woman, grabbing up a slab and thrusting it, unweighed, into her hand. "And

don't you never come back here no more, d'you see? O Cran have mercy!-" and with this she disappeared through some dark recess between the store cupboards.

Maia, utterly bewildered, dropped a two-meld piece into the scales and returned to her jekzha.

Arrived back, she found Occula alone by the pool, gently plucking the hinnari and running through the ballad-a favorite with shearnas called upon to sing-of U-Depa-rioth and the Silver Flower. Seeing Maia come in, she broke off.

"Cran's teeth, banzi, we've had quite a time since you left! How'd it go? Could he do it?"

"Oh-yes, fine, thanks," replied Maia rather absently. "What's up, then?"

"Oh, Piggy finally remembered about Milvushina," said Occula. "We had to take her up to him."

"What happened?"

"Well, he made her do one or two things-nothin' to hard cases like you and me, but no fun for her, of course. She took it very well, really: I'd had a word with her outside, you see. 'More fuss you make,' I said, 'more he'll enjoy it. Just pretend you're milkin' a cow or somethin'.' And d'you know what she said? "I've never milked a
cow
in my
lifel"
So I said-"

"Occula, there's something I want to tell you about; something queer as happened when I was coming back-"

At this moment, however, Terebinthia appeared and, being in a good mood on account of the improvement in the High Counselor's spirits-a mood which improved still further when she had opened Maia's lygol-remained chatting for some little while. Later, at bed-time, Maia slipped into Occula's room and told her what had happened at the confectioner's.

"What
d'you say she said?" asked Occula, her mouth full of thrilsa. " 'The zoan grove at the far end of the Barb gardens?' Sounds crazy to me: but then a lot of those old dears get a bit that way, you know."

Maia told her how the old woman had bolted out of sight without waiting to be paid.

"Nutty as the thrilsa," said Occula. "Can only be! Well,
that's
all right, anyway: give us another bit, banzi: thanks. I shouldn' tell anyone else about this if I were you," she went on, munching. "Not Dyphna or Milvushina, I mean. They'll only let it out, and if Pussy gets to hear, you'll be

in the shit for goin' into a sweet-shop at all, woan' you? Anyway, tell me about Eud-Ecachlon. You say he was hot stuff? I'd never have believed it! You doan' know your own strength, banzi, that's what."

About noon next day Maia, under Occula's tuition, was practicing the reppa-the spectacular though enormously demanding closing sequence of the senguela-when Ter-ebinthia came in. She broke off at once, but to her surprise the saiyett told her to continue and stood watching for some time.

"You have quite a gift, Maia," she said at length. "At this rate you'll soon be ready to show it off a little. We must find you an opportunity."

"Oh, I don't just rightly know about that, saiyett," answered Maia, panting and leaning against the wall. "It's only just passing time on, really. But I do enjoy it."

"Well, we shall see," said Terebinthia. "If you keep up this sort of progress there may be prospects." She sat down. "However-"

"Can we help you, saiyett?" asked Occula, smoothly anticipating whatever she had been about to say.

"Yes," replied Terebinthia, "as a matter of fact you can. You can get Maia ready to be at the Barons' Palace in about two hours' time."

"The Barons' Palace, saiyett?" said Maia.

"The governor of Lapan has asked for you," answered Terebinthia. "It seems he's in Bekla again. If it hadn't been for the High Counselor not being himself, he'd have been here in person. That's a disappointment he can bear, apparently, but the idea of not seeing
you
again, Maia, he found quite unendurable."

Maia felt elated. She remembered the governor of La-pan, and the saucy answer she had given him when he had remarked upon the value of her clothes and jewels. Evidently he had not forgotten it, either. She would enjoy showing him how much she had improved her sexual accomplishments since last she had been in his company. Recalling how much her sumptuous clothes had seemed to excite him, she persuaded Terebinthia to let her put on

a full-skirted, cream-colored gown, ornately brocaded with vine-leaves and leopards, bought only recently and never as yet worn. To this the saiyett added a diamond pendant on a fine gold chain.

Having arrived, somewhat overawed, at the Barons' Palace, she was received with few words by a grave, elderly saiyett and conducted to a room high up on the south wall, below the Lily Tower. A fair-haired Yeldashay lad, who had just finished making up the stove, bowed to her and slipped out, leaving her alone.

She wondered whether she should undress at once or wait until Randronoth came to join her. In view of his pleasure in clothes, she decided to wait. Anyhow, she reflected, it would be next to impossible to get out of this dress without someone else's help; and he would no doubt enjoy being the helper.

The rain billowed on outside. Through the window she could see the sodden slopes of Crandor rising to the stone quarries and the citadel-a bleak, hazy solitude, indistinct behind the drifting curtain of rain. How nice, she thought, to be paid for doing what you like! The prospect of an afternoon spent with a warm, good-humored admirer, a sound basting or two and a nice, fat lygol to take home afterwards, was by no means unpleasant. Turning away from the window, she sat down on a bench in front of the stove and held out her hands to the blaze.

The door opened, a deep voice outside spoke a word of dismissal to someone in the corridor, and a moment later not Randronoth, but Kembri entered the room. Taken by surprise, Maia stood up in confusion, raising her palm to her forehead.

"My lord, I-I wasn't-"

"Sit down," said the Lord General unsmilingly. Maia obeyed, the heavy folds of her skirt spreading about her.

"You weren't expecting me?" he asked.

"No, my lord; that I wasn't. Only they told me, see, as the governor of Lapan-"

"It was I, not Randronoth, who had you brought to the Palace. Now understand this, Maia. No one's to know that you've seen me-no one at all, do you understand? The purpose of that message was simply to mislead the High Counselor's household. Your saiyett's not to know that you've seen me. You'll be given a lygol and you'll say that the governor of Lapan gave it to you."

After a moment he added, with a grim smile, "You won't even have to work for it: I merely want to talk to you."

Her pride aroused, the Tonildan urchin peeped out. " 'Twouldn't be no trouble to me, my lord-" but clearly he was in no mood for such sallies. Silencing her with a gesture, he sat down on the opposite side of the stove, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. She waited silently.

After a time he asked, "The High Counselor-is he seriously ill?"

"He's-well, he's not been at all himself just lately, my lord, and that's a fact."

"I know
that."
His tone was brusque. "Anyone else could say as much. It'll be best for you to speak frankly and straight to me, Maia. Forget you're a slave-girl and forget who you belong to. You're an informant, now, telling me as much as you can in reply to my questions, d'you see? The more you can tell me, the better I shall be pleased; as long as it's the truth. When I send messengers to inquire after the High Counselor's health, they're told what he wants me to hear-or perhaps what that saiyett of yours wants me to hear-that he's suffering from a temporary indisposition. She wants me to think there's nothing wrong. I need to know the truth. What
is
the truth?"

"Well, 'tis hard to tell, just, my lord, with a man like that. Way he goes on, you see, he's bound to be taken bad every now and then. He gets bilious, like, in his stomach, or else he wakes up with headache an' that. I've seen him bad of a morning and then come the evening he'll be right again and stuffing himself."

"And you admire that, don't you?"

"Well, want to know, my lord, I reckon he knows how to enjoy himself; leastways that's to say he did, till a little while back."

"But this-now. Is this different-serious? Is there any more to it than after-effects?"

Maia considered. "Yes, my lord, happen there is; only it's hard to say 'zackly what. It's bin going on that long now, you see, and it comes and goes, like."

"Is he going to die, Maia?"

"I don't reckon so, my lord: but then of course I don't know a great lot about such things. It's more as though he was kind of-well, bemused-fuddled, like. Occula could

probably tell you more. Only he seems to rely on Occula a great deal these days."

"If ever you have reason to think he's going to die, Maia, you're to let me know at once-before anyone else. Either you or Occula must find a way to tell me-quickly: do you understand?"

Maia looked up into the scowling, bearded face, tawny in the firelight.

"You told me as I was to speak freely, my lord, so I'll ask you. Do you
want
him to die?"

"No, I didn't say that. And it's not going to be any part of your work to kill him, either, if that's what you mean."

Maia was genuinely shocked. "Well, of course I didn't mean that, my lord! I'd never do such a thing!"

"If I require it, you may find yourself doing just that, though not to the High Counselor. But killing's no part of what I want to talk to you about now. I was merely inquiring after your master's health, which is a serious matter tome."

He went to the door and called. After a short delay the elderly saiyett entered, carrying a tray with fruit, a flagon and wine-cups. Kembri, having filled a cup for himself, motioned to her to set down the tray and go. As the door closed he turned back to Maia.

"You remember an Urtan-a man called Bayub-Otal?"

"Yes, of course, my lord; at your son's party."

"You were told-my son told you, didn't he?-to do your best to attract him,"

She nodded.

"What came of that, Maia? How successful were you?"

"Well, tell you the truth, my lord, I couldn't just make him out at all: and as to being what you call successful-"

"Why couldn't you make him out?"

"Well, first he was on talking with scornful-like about- well, about girls like me going with men and being given lygols and all such things as that. "You'll get no lygol out of me!" he says-kind of sneering, like. So naturally I reckoned he must just about hate me. But then next minute he was on asking whether I wanted to see him again. It just didn't make no sort of sense."

"What did
you
say?"

"I said I'd be glad to meet him again if that was what he wanted."

"Was that all that happened?"

"Yes, my lord. Well, only other thing was that when he asked where he could find me and I said at the High Counselor's, you could see he didn't fancy that at all."

"What did he say about the High Counselor?"

"He said 'He knows too much. He's a man everyone fears.' I reckon that's why he hasn't tried to see me again. But then, why did he ask me in the first place whether I wanted to-I mean, if he didn't fancy me?"

Kembri, standing up, laid a hand on her shoulder. She realized with surprise that he was pleased.

"You've done well, Maia. You see now, do you, how easy it is to do well, just by doing what you're told?"

He filled the other wine-cup and handed it to her.

"
I
can tell you why Bayub-Otal hasn't tried to get in touch with you again. He left Bekla suddenly, the day after that party. He went back to Kendron-Urtah, but from there he disappeared altogether; for some considerable time. Those whose job it is to watch him lost track of him entirely."

Maia sipped her wine and said nothing.

"Traveling in the rains," went on Kembri. "That's suspicious, for a start. But from Urtah, there's only one place to which Bayub-Otal would be likely to vanish altogether- where he couldn't be traced-and that's Suba. Marshland-water-ways-grass half as tall as the trees. Some secret meeting-place. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"No, my lord. Fact is, I don't know what you're on about at all."

He nodded. "That's all to the good: you'll be all the more convincing if you're really what you seem to be."

He threw two or three logs into the stove. They caught the blaze at once, with a resinous scent, and the gum began to ooze, hissing, from the wood.

"Bayub-Otal's returning to Bekla at this moment. In fact, he may already be here. I happen to know that he spoke to someone about you and said he meant to see you again."

Maia, shaking her head, held her hands apart in a gesture of incomprehension.

"You're to do your best to find out where he's been; and what he went for, too, if you can," said Kembri.

"But how, my lord? I told you, he didn't fancy me-"

Kembri held up a hand.

"You're young and inexperienced, Maia, and what little experience of men you
have
had has been concerned with only one thing. I don't understand Bayub-Otal any more than you do, but I know a great deal about him. Either he doesn't care for girls or else he pretends he doesn't, out of some sort of pride. It's not boys, either-we know that. But for your purpose and mine it doesn't matter what's at the back of it. He may not want to go to bed with you, but he wants to see you again-that's good enough for us."

"Where he went to and why-is it just that you want me to find out, my lord?"

"As much as you can: anything he'll tell you; his hopes, his plans. He may be innocent; but we think not."

"I wonder you don't have him killed, then, my lord. You easy could if you wanted, I suppose." This was insolence and meant to be. She was speaking sardonically, out of a peasant's well-founded resentment against all callous rulers and oppressors. He answered her seriously, however.

"Kill the love-child of the High Baron of Urtah? They hate us enough as it is. That would bring the whole place round our ears." Again came the grim smile. "His father loves him, Maia, even if you don't."

"Can you tell me any more about him, my lord?"

"I'm deliberately not going to tell you anything at all: then you can't reveal, can you, that you know more than if you were completely innocent? He didn't want to bed with you at the party. He may change his mind later, or he may not. For our purposes it doesn't matter. You may not know this, Maia, but a few men, here and there, prefer a girl who doesn't fall on her back straight away-even a slave. Perhaps he wants to believe you're pure at heart. If you decide, when you've got to know him better, that that's what he wants, you must do all you can to go along with it.
I
can't tell you how to win his confidence. You're the woman, not I." He paused. "Well, now you know that he means to see you again, and you've heard what I want you to do. How do you feel about it?"

Maia had in fact been recalling the contempt with which Bayub-Otal had spoken to her. "Are you learning your trade?" "You'll get no lygol out of
me."
Remembering her mortification, she felt herself once more full of annoyance. Why ever should Bayub-Otal want to see her

again? She neither knew nor cared. She could not choose but do this work for the Lord General, but she would much prefer to find herself in a straightforward sexual situation, with a normal man whom she could understand. If only, she thought, it had been Eud-Ecachlon they had wanted her to find out about.

She raised her eyes. "All I was thinking, my lord, is that if you're looking for a girl as'll make him forget himself- I mean, strike him as young and innocent, the way you said-then I know one as'd likely do much better for the job than me."

"I'm the one to decide that, Maia, not you," replied Kembri.

Now she'd angered him, she thought. She looked down into her cup, swirling the wine in the bowl and wondering whether or not to go on. In the silence she could hear the rain beating in gusts against the stones of the tower outside.

"Who is this girl?" asked the Lord General at length.

"Her name's Milvushina, my lord. She's with me in the High Counselor's household."

"And what makes you think she'd do better than you for Bayub-Otal?"

"Because she's a baron's daughter, my lord."

"A
baron's
daughter? A bed-girl in Sencho's household? What do you mean? How did he come by her?"

"You mean you don't
know,
my lord?"

There was no question of him thinking her impudent now. The startled sincerity of her question carried its own conviction.