27: WAITING

Maia, upon her return, found Terebinthia, Occula and Dyphna sitting round the stove. This surprised her, for at this time of day either the säiyett herself or at least one girl would usually be in attendance upon the High Counselor. Before she had a chance to ask questions, however, Occula, jumping up and helping her off with her wet cloak, inquired cheerfully, "Hullo, banzi; back in one piece? Well basted?"

"Basted? You mean split and sun-dried," answered Maia, sliding off the heavy silver bracelets, which she found cumbersome. She was in a mood to reply to Occula's ribaldry in kind, for to herself she no longer seemed the girl who had been given her instructions by Terebinthia earlier that afternoon.

"Got the speedin' trick, had he?" said Occula. "Took you up and took you down; is that the tale? His tail or yours?"

"Here, I'll tell you—" Maia, laughing, stopped suddenly as she saw Terebinthia staring at her in the manner of one waiting for another to remember what she ought not to have to be reminded of. She took out the Lord General's purse and handed it over.

"It's still sealed, säiyett."

"So I see," replied Terebinthia. "If it hadn't been, I should have felt unpleasantly surprised. The seal is customary, but I deliberately didn't tell you. I suppose Occula did?"

"No, I didn', säiyett," said Occula. "To tell you the truth, I clean forgot. Maia deserves all the credit. Can we see what he's given her?"

"We can," answered Terebinthia, breaking the little red seal and spilling the contents of the purse on her palm. "Well, well!" Maia had the impression that for a moment she was quite taken aback.

"Whew!" said Occula. "Two hundred and forty meld! That's about as big a lygol as ever I've heard of, säiyett, but of course I doan' know how they go on in Bekla."

"It's very good indeed," said Terebinthia. "Well done, Maia! Here you are, and mind you look after it."

She counted the coins again. "In fact, you may have a full hundred. It ought to be ninety-six, but I confess I wasn't expecting the Lord General to be quite so generous, and I can't be bothered to go and find the change just now."

"Thank you very much, säiyett."

"Just think, banzi," said Occula. "Do that a hundred and fifty times an' you'll be a free girl—long as your back's not broken."

The night: the close, secret, rain-whispering night. Heads close together under the bedclothes, barely a sound even from lips close to ears. Maia lay trembling in Occula's arms, the black girl listening intently as she clasped her close.

". . . so then he said . . . put you to death . . . secrets .. . dangerous . . .if you survive ... a fortune!. . .answer in three days."

For a while Occula made no reply, merely calming Maia as she might have calmed an animal or a baby, with quiet endearments and soft, meaningless sounds. At last, putting her own lips as close to her ear as Maia's had been to hers, she breathed, "You'll have to do it, banzi: you've no choice. If you tell him you woan', he'll decide you're a risk, however much he enjoyed bastin' you. He'll reckon he's told you too much already; an' that could be fatal."

"But why ever should he choose me?" asked Maia desperately. "I don't know anything—hardly been in Bekla any time at all—"

"Ssh!" For Maia's voice had risen well above a whisper. "He told you why himself—or most of it. You look too young—you act too young—to be suspected: that's one thing. But he reckons you're a girl who can turn people's heads—you seem to have turned his all right for a couple of hours, by all you've told me. You doan' realize yet— lots of girls never do realize—what sort of effect a girl can have on men. They're not made like us. They get obsessed, you know—crazed, distracted—like a dog hangin' round after a bitch. They doan' think about warmth or kindness or friendship, like we do. They just go out of their minds to baste you. Sometimes it sends them as near mad as makes no difference, and they'll do anythin', tell you anythin', just to get it. Far as I can make out, Kembri as good as told you that himself, but you doan' seem to have taken it in. And on top of all that, he must have decided that you're no fool."

"But how could he? He never said a word until—"

"You never said a word either, did you? Probably that had a lot to do with it."

"He said it might be dangerous—"

"There's always danger for the likes of us. But cheer up, banzi. It could all turn out to have been worth it, you know. Anyhow, I should try to look at it that way, for you'll have to do it."

"But he said I was to tell him in three days. How can I?"

"I've thought of that, darling: I'll do it for you."

"You will? How?"

"Like this. You tell Miss Pussy-cat tomorrow that while you were with Kembri you told him about your friend the black girl, and he said I sounded unusual and he'd like to have a go at me. That'll sound much more convincin' than if you said he wanted you back. You've nothin' to gain out of me goin', you see."

"But she won't take my word for a thing like that—"

"No, 'course she woan'. But she'll hope to Cran it's true, because she'd like another hundred and forty meld. I bet she'll never give Piggy a trug of what she took off you today. By the way, he's out of order, you know. Gorged himself sick at dinner an' they put him to bed. That's why we were all off-duty when you got back. So she's on her own. She'll send round to Kembri's säiyett, who'll ask Kembri. And he's expectin' to hear somethin' from you, so he'll realize what it's all about and say I'm to come."

"But he said I wasn't to tell a soul—"

"Ah, but for the matter of that I could perfectly well be bringin' him a message I didn' understand myself, couldn' I? 'My friend thanks you for being so kind, my lord, and she'll be happy to do anythin' she can for you.' Somethin' like that. Great Cran, there are hundreds of ways I can tell him, sweetheart! Just leave it to me."

"Oh, Occula, I love you so much! Why, now you're trembling! What is it?"

For some time the black girl made no reply. At last she whispered "Oh, what an evil, terrible city this is! I came to it in bloodshed nearly seven years ago an' it hasn' changed an atom! Pray, banzi—only pray that we both survive!"

The following morning, however, she was her usual self, passing the time by inventing ridiculous games in which she and Dyphna competed first, to tell a story containing the most and biggest lies, and then to dress up as different kinds of men paying court to Maia, whom they hit over the head with a bladder every time she failed to stop herself laughing.

Sencho was still sick; and likely to remain in bed for two or three days, so Terebinthia told them. A doctor had prescribed a purge, rest and quiet. Three or four nondescript people who had come for instructions had been sent away and told to return in three days' time.

Maia, having been made to act out her false message until Occula was satisfied that she could deliver it convincingly, asked to see Terebinthia alone. The säiyett, having heard her, inquired whether the Lord General had given any indication of when he wanted the black girl to come; but here Maia, as instructed by Occula, pretended to be unable to remember. Terebinthia thereupon re-proved her for not taking more trouble to commit to memory the details of a message from so exalted a personage as the Lord General, but went so far as to smile when Maia replied that she had really been in no condition to memorize anything accurately when she was feeling less like a girl than a bucket of soapsuds.

The porter's underling having been dispatched to make inquiries at the Lord General's house, both girls could not help feeling some anxiety. Occula, however, turned out to have been right in supposing that Kembri would put two and two together. The reply was that the Lord General wished to see the black girl that very afternoon; and after a scented bath Occula, having silvered her eyelids, put on her golden nose-stud and necklace of teeth and obtained Terebinthia's approval of her orange metlan and hunting-jacket, set off in the same jekzha that had carried Maia the day before.

She returned quite late, explaining that as she was about to leave the Lord General's house ins säiyett had brought her a message that the young lord Elvair-ka-Virrion wished her to come and drink wine with himself and a few friends in his rooms. Naturally, she had done as required. There had been one or two other girls there, including Otavis and a celebrated shearna named Nennaunir, who was very popular among the younger Leopards.

"But I didn' do any more on my back," she added, handing over Kembri's lygol of two hundred meld and pocketing the eighty which Terebinthia returned to her, "I just met several rich young men and did my best to make them remember me. I think something might come of it later, säiyett."

After supper she complained of a headache and said she was going to bed. Maia remained for some time with Terebinthia, helping her to look through and take stock of the wardrobe of beautiful and expensive clothes maintained for the High Counselor's girls. The säiyett, having ascertained that Maia could ply a needle at least passably, set her to stitching two or three torn linings and frayed hems, dismissing her only when she was ready to go to bed herself.

Maia, expecting Occula to be already asleep, came into their room to find her sitting by the lamp, bent over the pedlar's pottery cat, which she was holding upside-down on her lap and apparently scratching open with the point of her knife.

"What you on with, then?" asked Maia, sitting down on the bed and reaching for the hairbrush. (Since seeing the girls at the Rains banquet, she had taken to a regular use of brush and comb every night before going to bed.)

Occula put the cat back on the shelf.

"Oh, nothin'. Passin' time—wastin' time. A cat ought to have a venda, banzi, doan' you think? Imagine how miserable you'd be without one."

Maia shook her head in perplexity. "Thought you was supposed to have a headache?"

"I have. Gome on, let's go to bed and put the lamp out. I'll tell you a story—two stories. I want someone's arms round me who loves me, jus' for a change. You'll do for now."

Under the bedclothes she whispered, "Well, it worked, banzi. He basted me for a start, but I think he must really have spent almost the lot on you yesterday. He as good as said so, actually, a bit later on. Didn' stop him gettin' down to work for a quarter of an hour, though, before he thought to ask why I was there."

"What did you say?"

"I gave him your message; that you were ready to oblige him at any time; nothin' more than that. And then I told him— well, you know—that I was your friend and a bit about how we met and how I'd always done my best to look after you. I told him about that little tick Genshed, too—might do him a bit of harm, you never know. Anyway, after a time he asked whether you'd told me what he'd said to you yesterday, and of course I didn't know a damned thing. So then he said what did I think of you, and I said—oh, banzi, I'm so clever—I said I thought you'd do wonders in time, but I couldn't help bein' a bit worried because you were so inexperienced. And then, as if it was a huge joke, I told him about what happened at Khasik—all about Zuno and the Ortelgan rope-merchant and his golden bear. 'See what I mean?' I said. 'She turns people upside-down, but she's much better when she's got me to look after her. Still, my lord, I mustn' go borin' you with a lot of silly chatter.'

"So then he had some food and wine brought in and we talked about nothin' for a bit, and then he basted me again, and after that he told me to get dressed and go home. I'm certain he was waitin' to see whether I'd bring the subject up again. If I had, of course, he'd have guessed you'd been talkin' to me. I just acted as though I'd completely forgotten the whole thing. He gave me my lygol and I was actually goin' out of the room when he called me back and told me to shut the door and sit down.

"And then, banzi, he told me more or less what he told you; that he needs eyes and ears, and in particular that he wants to know more about the Urtans. What it comes to— or so I believe, though of course he didn' say it—is that for some reason he can' persuade Sencho—or doesn' trust him—to find out whatever it is that he wants to know about these Urtans. Neither of them really trusts the other; crooks never do. But my guess is that Sencho's becomin' less and less useful." Occula suppressed a chuckle. "Not pullin' his weight, as you might say. But all the same, you see, he knows so much that nobody else knows, that Kembri and Durakkon daren' get rid of him."

Maia threw back the covers as far as her waist and lay silently on her back, thinking. A lull had fallen in the rain. She could hear the wind stirring the leaves, and the minute pattering of some small animal—mouse, jerboa or long-tailed chidron —along the foot of the wall outside. At last, covering their heads once more, she whispered, "But what's all this to us? We're just slaves. Whose side are we on?"

"The side that suits us best, of course," answered the black girl. "Kembri's said he'll pay you and free you, and I trust Kembri as much has I trust any bastard in this damn' city. Besides, it'll get us out into company, and that's what we need, to get on."

"Us?"

"Oh, yes; I forgot to tell you, banzi. I convinced the Lord General that you need me to help you. Experienced girl, you know. Whatever this work is-r-and I doan' know any more than you do—I'm goin' to be in it with you. One or other of us ought to be able to make an Urtan talk, doan' you think?"

But nothing happened. The next day passed, and the next, and another. Sencho, at length recovering from his indisposition, had one of the cooks whipped and sold; and later the same day sent for Lalloc to discuss buying another.

Maia's feelings towards the High Counselor remained strangely ambivalent, fear and fascination succeeding each other like sunlight and cloud-shadow on a hillside. She came to perceive that for him, as Occula had said, the humiliation of others was an important ingredient of sexual pleasure. One evening, when Maia and Occula were with him in the bath, Terebinthia entered to tell him that a shepherd lad from Urtah, secretly in his pay, had come twenty miles through the rain to report to him, and was waiting wet through in the courtyard. The High Counselor, having replied that the boy deserved to be treated hospitably, thereupon had him brought in, stripped of his wet clothes and rubbed down; after which he made him sit beside the bath while he himself continued what he had been doing with the girls. At length, telling Maia to remain, naked as she was, and serve the youngster with food and drink, he listened to his report and questioned him, while at the same time plainly enjoying his shamefaced and futile attempts to conceal his natural reaction to the sight of the pretty slave-girl.

On another occasion, while talking to a young soldier who had come on some errand from Durakkon, Sencho asked him whether he thought Dyphna was beautiful: and upon the youth naturally replying yes, told him that he might do whatever he pleased with her, provided he did not deprive him of his very natural desire to watch. And despite his reluctance the young man, before being permitted to leave, was compelled to do as the High Counselor required.

An habitual amusement with him was to inflict pain under the pretense of play or of a caress, and the girls, while waiting upon him, were often squeezed, slapped, or tormented in some more prurient manner, such as tweaking their nipples or plucking the hair at their groins.

And yet, even in the act of performing some disgusting duty, such as helping the High Counselor to vomit up his gorge, Maia found herself often overcome by that spontaneous sense of excitement and admiration not uncommon in young people towards someone who has absolute power over them. She had no say at all in what took place between them. Sencho might discuss certain matters with his cooks, but never with his girls; for while what he wanted from the former varied and often required careful thought on their part, what he wanted from the latter did not. In his household only one person's convenience was ever considered; and since Maia had no rights and he could order her to do anything he wanted, she simply accepted the situation, which by the standards of a Tonildan peasant-girl was far from intolerable. Maia, indeed (in contrast to Occula), was not unlike a beautiful hawk or hound. She did not go in for reflection. Sencho was her master and after all her abundant, youthful energy had to have some outlet. To wait on him and to gratify him was easy work, while even to minister to him while he excreted great quantities of ordure was not all that different from mucking out the cows—in fact, more cleanly and much less arduous, for every part of the High Counselor's household was well-conducted and -equipped, Terebinthia being perhaps the most expert säiyett in the empire in accommodating the needs of a libertine.

Sencho did exactly as he felt inclined from morning till night, gratifying each appetite and impulse in the moment that he felt it and without the slightest constraint or shame either in the act or after. From this self-indulgence he clearly derived that peculiar satisfaction often felt by those who have formerly been, but are now no longer, poor and continually straining every energy to their own advancement. Indolence in itself, for example, plainly constituted one of his greatest sources of enjoyment. When his greed and lust had for a time been satisfied, he would remain lying upon the couch or in the bath, not sleeping but torpid, like some huge insect, doing nothing whatever, yet plainly with enjoyment. During all the months that she spent in his household, Maia never knew whether or not he could read and write; for though it seemed incredible that he could not, she never once saw him do so, it being his invariable practice to require Terebinthia to undertake such irksome matters on his behalf.

Occula and Dyphna, each in her own way, contrived to exercise a kind of veiled, partial control over Sencho's lewdness and cruelty by means of half-hearted response and an air of detached acquiescence, rather as though humoring a child. Maia, however, could never catch the trick, for—as she had discovered on the night when Meris was whipped—there was some part of her which felt a sort of enigmatic affinity with the High Counselor. As she stooped over him to pour his wine, dressed in a necklace and jeweled sandals, and felt him pinching or biting at her body, she would often become so much inflamed that she would fling herself into the cushions, then and there to initiate what she should, as a compliant slave-girl, have waited to be told to perform. Of such behavior, however, the High Counselor seldom complained. The dangerous unpredictability of his moods formed part of the curious glee which she often felt in his presence, and indeed it once occurred to her that if she had known herself to be entirely safe with him she would have felt no excitement. Underlying everything else was the knowledge that the High Counselor found her greatly to his taste. She felt certain that he would not have sold her for twice what she had cost him.

The truth was that Maia was uncritically proud of her aptitude for pleasing a wealthy, powerful man like Sencho and even of what she suffered at his hands; just as a young, simple-minded soldier is proud of pleasing his superiors, whoever they may be, and of undergoing fatigue and hardship at their behest, feeling that these prove his manly worth. If she had somehow or other found herself back home beside Lake Serrelind, she would probably have boasted of what Sencho had inflicted on her, knowing that it was on account of her attractiveness to him.

She might well have boasted of more than that, for the girls lived in a luxury almost as great as the High Counselor's own. Their quarters were comfortable and elegantly decorated, and it was no part of their duties to clean them. Soon Occula, after the manner of her kind, began to need to take care not to grow fleshy, for when attending upon Sencho they were not only allowed but encouraged—since it tended to increase their carnality—to eat as much as they wished. Maia, on the other hand, discovered something that she had never had the opportunity to find out before; namely, that eating to her fullest satisfaction seemed to have no effect whatever on her weight or appearance. To sleep, too, was easy and pleasant, for here were no buzzing night-flies, no crying baby; only Occula in a big, soft bed instead of Nala in a small, hard one; and no early rising, either; for plenty of sleep was important to their looks.

In short, the girls were cared for and tended like the valuable property they were. Terebinthia often examined and massaged them herself, and on the slightest cause, -such as a sore throat or a stomach pain, would summon the doctor. When Dyphna was troubled by a corn in the foot, a skilled man was brought from the lower city to remove it. Often they were warned of the severe punishment awaiting any girl who might pick a quarrel or lose her temper. Maia learned that the säiyett's very valid objection to Meris, beauty or no, had been that in her former life she had got into a habit of mischief and violence; and a scratched face or a torn dress was a serious matter, since it lessened the High Counselor's pleasure and wasted his money.

Indeed, almost as much was spent on the girls' wardrobe as on Sencho's gluttony. When he entertained, he would order Terebinthia to dress them magnificently; and this, as Occula and Maia soon discovered, meant as richly as the finest lady in Bekla. Not only their dresses and jewels, but their undergarments and every least part of their attire were of a quality that Maia had never even imagined; so that now, when she recalled the dress with which the slave-traders had tricked her, she felt ashamed to think she could ever have been taken in by such rubbish.

One evening the girls were called upon to help to regale one Randronoth, the governor of Lapan, who was visiting Bekla on state business and spending the night at the High Counselor's. Randronoth had a reputation in the empire for gross extravagance and for preferring very young girls. Nevertheless, he was a man of forceful ability and personal magnetism, possessed standing in Lapan as a soldier and leader and was popular and influential among his own people. On this account he had retained his position as governor throughout the Leopards' rule, despite their strong suspicions that he often made little distinction between public money and his own.

It came as no surprise to Sencho ,when Randronoth showed a marked interest in Maia, and the High Counselor (who not only had his own reasons for wanting to oblige him, but also felt it flattering that a Lapanese aristocrat should not attempt to conceal that he envied him a valuable possession) hospitably told him that he was welcome to spend the night with her.

Undressing with the care for her clothes which Terebinthia ceaselessly enjoined on them all, Maia realized that her companion seemed almost as much excited by what she was taking off as by what was being revealed. Handling and examining them, he asked her whether she had any idea what her gown and jewels might be worth in all; and upon her replying that she really could not tell, said that in his estimation she must have had at least seven thousand meld on her back, her fingers and round her neck.

"Don't signify, my lord; what you got in your arms now cost more 'n twice that," she replied; jestingly, yet letting him see that at all events she knew that much. And this answer plainly stimulated him even further.

The apparently insatiable desire roused in him again and again during the night, not so much by anything she said or did as by her mere bodily presence—the sheer look and feel of her, which seemed to put him almost beside himself—would have struck a more experienced girl as altogether out of the ordinary; even as somewhat unbalanced.

It was as though she must correspond to, must be for him the physical manifestation of, some personal, inward obsession. Those who have traveled widely can recognize a prodigy when they encounter it, while by the same token an ingenue may easily take it for granted without discernment or special wonder. Maia, who was still deriving pleasure from the realization that she was exceptionally desirable to men, did not find her night with Randronoth disagreeable—in fact she quite enjoyed it—but by the same token attached little or no consequence to the fervor of his passion. When, next morning, he told her that he must at all costs see her again—that he was utterly set on it— she accepted this as being, for all she knew, the sort of thing men not infrequently said to girls; and when he begged her for assurances that she felt for him as he for her, she gave them as a matter of politeness and of what she thought was only to be expected of a good concubine.

And inwardly? Yes, well, she supposed she'd turned his head all right; that was what she was for, wasn't it? It was quite beyond Maia, even on the evidence, to perceive or have any inkling how completely; let alone to foresee or feel apprehensive about the possible consequences. This, however, was perhaps as well for her, since his infatuation, brought about entirely without her intention, was now irreversible, and no amount of anxiety on her part could have dispelled it.

Her impudent retort about her own value, coming from a child of fifteen, amused Randronoth enough to make him repeat it to the High Counselor, who nodded approvingly, feeling that she had done him credit. His lygol was exceptionally generous, and the tone of his farewell to her (though she soon forgot it) was more like that of a man parting from some incomparable paramour than from a slave-girl lent to him for a night. Later Terebinthia, in her customarily cool, half-grudging manner, remarked that she appeared to have given satisfaction.

With compensations of this kind such a life, despite its abasements and indignities, could not—to a girl like Maia— help but tend to self-satisfaction, even while Terebinthia held her across the couch for the High Counselor to slap her plump young buttocks. And this gratifying state of mind, together with the sincere affection of Occula, was more than enough to overcome any boredom she might have felt at passing all her time either in the women's quarters or in attendance upon the High Counselor. In fact she found plenty to do, for Maia had never been inactive by nature. Encouraged by Occula, who believed strongly in the value of accomplishments, she wheedled Dyphna into giving her lessons in reading and, catching Terebinthia one day in a good mood, persuaded her to hire a skilled seamstress to improve her needlework. She also learned a little of the hinnari—"just enough to be able to accompany yourself, anyway," said Occula; but the truth was, as Maia knew, that she possessed no more than an ordinarily pleasant voice.

The dance, however, was another matter. In this, more than in anything else, she took pleasure and progressed, and under Occula's tuition would practice for hours not only the flowing, seductive sequences of the senguela but also other dances—Yeldashay, Belishban and the stamping, whirling rhythms of the Deelguy; for at the Lily Pool Occula had watched and talked to many visiting dancing-girls and picked up a great deal.

On certain evenings, when the other girls were on duty in the bath or the dining-hall and she was alone, Maia would sit pensive at a window, her hands in her lap, looking out at the falling rain; neither fretting nor melancholy but, country-fashion, letting her thoughts stray where they would. Sometimes she would choose the long, northern window looking down towards the wall bounding the upper city, the Peacock Gate and the vista of descending streets be-yond, from among which soared the lower city's tall, slender towers. These she could now recognize and name at a glance. Or again, she would sit at the west window, with its prospect across the green, dripping garden and bordering grove of birches to the shore of the Barb. A mile away, on the further side of the water, rose the Leopard Hill, crowned by the Palace of the Barons with its twenty symmetrical towers. Once, when the rain chanced to cease for a short while at sunset, the western clouds parted briefly to reveal a huge, crimson sun; a heavy, glowing sphere floating as though half-submerged, borne up, dipping and rolling in a fluid sky—swimming down, she thought, among far-away lands; Katria, Terekenalt and further yet—perhaps over that city of Silver Tedzhek which Occula had spoken of, out beyond the Govig. "Happen it's shining on that Long Spit up the river, where they hold the fair," she thought. "It must just about look pretty, with that red sun setting." For of course it did not occur to Maia that the time of day would be different in a far-off land—that in Tedzhek it would still be afternoon.

She would recall that drudging childhood she was glad to think she had left behind; of no further interest, remnant as a discarded dress or a faded bunch of flowers. Only for the rippling solitude of Lake Serrelind, and for her happy waterfall, did she still feel a pang of regret, and—yes! for Tharrin, that strolling, smiling, rather seedy adventurer. He was shallow, a rascal, of no account—this she could now see plainly. While she was daily before his eyes he had not been able to resist her; indeed, it had never occurred to him even to try—no, indeed, rather the reverse. Yet once she was gone, he had let that be the end of it. Too bad, but these things happened, didn't they? At least, they always had—to him. Easy come, easy go. "Wonder what mother said when he came back?" she thought. "Ah, and what he said an' all. Just about nothing, I dare say. All the same, he was kind and good-natured; he liked a good time; he made you laugh; we had a bit of fun. I wouldn't say no to him, not even now. Leastways he wasn't one to bite and pinch and set you crawling over the floor. Oh—" and here she gazed down pleasurably at her clothes and the jewels on her fingers and arms—"wouldn't I just about like to rub his face in this lot? 'See?' I'd say. 'This is what I've got out of you not being man enough even to try to get me back. 'Fraid I can't stop now—I've got to go and be basted by the Lord General of Bekla, for more than two hundred meld. Ta-ta!' "

Ah! The Lord General of Bekla. And thus her thoughts came sharply back to the present. Mostly, during the day, she was successful in keeping her anxiety at arm's length. Sometimes she was able to persuade herself that nothing at all would follow from what the Lord General had offered (or demanded of) her.

Yet alone, in the rain-scented evening, with the thrushes singing in the green silence, the recollection of what he had said about danger would come trickling back into her mind like water under a door—indisputable evidence of worse outside. What sort of danger? When? Where? From whom? "If you survive." This, for all she knew, was probably the sort of thing generals commonly said to their soldiers.

She wished Kembri had not said it to her.

Yet here, if the Lord General was to be trusted, lay the hope of greater and quicker gain than she could expect from any other quarter. To be free, and set up as a Beklan shearna, and that before she was much older! This was the thing to dwell upon, this was the thing to hope for. "When I'm a shearna, I'll—" and as the clouds closed once more across the red sun and the rain returned, Maia's thoughts ran buoyantly on towards an indistinct but glorious future; for she was young and healthy and, like most people until they have met catastrophe face-to-face, had a vague idea that it could never really happen to her. She was lucky! Lucky Maia! Had not her very enslavement turned out, all in all, a big change for the better? As Terebinthia came in to summon her to the dining-hall she would dismiss her fears, turning from the window and unfastening her bodice to lie half-open in the way she knew the High Counselor liked.

Occula, too, though she never spoke of it, seemed by no means without anxiety. She had set up in their room the polished, black image of Kantza-Merada, and more than once Maia, returning unexpectedly, would find her prostrate before it, her face—certainly on one occasion— wet with tears. Maia became familiar with the words of that liturgy which she had first heard by the stream between Hirdo and Khasik:

"Most strangely, Kantza-Merada, are the laws of the dark world effected. O Kantza-Merada, do not question the laws of the nether world."

This and more Occula would repeat nightly, sometimes clasping the figure of the goddess between her hands as she did so; striving desperately, one might think, to wring comfort from it as juice from a fruit.

One night, as they were preparing for bed, Maia, happening to pick up the pottery Cat Colonna, saw that Occula had roughly scratched a few words—presumably with her knife—across the base. Slowly, she spelt them out. " 'Ready—do—as you wish.' What's that, then, Occula?"

"That?" For a moment Occula seemed startled. "Oh, that's—that's what we used to call an incised prayer. You know, you take the trouble to scratch it on, an' that makes the prayer—well, it sort of makes it work. That's a prayer of submission."

"Submission? To what?"

"Oh, I dunno—everythin': anythin': to whatever has to be done, that's all." She stood up, yawning and stretching smooth, black arms above her gown of white satin. "Come on, help me off with this. Cran, it's heavy! Unhook the back, banzi, and then hold it while I step out. Oh, I could sleep for days, couldn' you?"