40: INVESTIGATION

The murder of Sencho-bè-L'vandor, High Counselor of Bekla, at a state festivity, within earshot and almost within sight of the High Baron, the Sacred Queen and some two or three hundred assembled dignitaries of the empire, spread not only shock but something close to panic, first through the upper and then the lower city. The deed was bewildering and minatory as an earthquake tremor. None could tell what might be going to follow; whether this was simply an isolated act of vengeance carried out by two of the great number with good reason to hate the High Counselor, or the prelude to an organized, armed insurrection against the Leopard regime. How many murderous agents might there be in the city? How many in other cities—in Thettit, Ikat, Dari-Paltesh? Who might be those marked down as their victims?

Fear and suspicion ran everywhere: among the guests, making haste to be gone from the gardens; many, as they went, arranging to remain together for the rest of the night and set out for home no later than dawn; among slaves and servants, warned by their masters to go armed, to keep strict watch and trust no one: among soldiers, an hour ago glad not to have been sent to the Valderra, now ordered to search cellars and attics in the dark; among tradesmen and merchants, fearful for their stock; among shearnas and their admirers, both, as they learned the tidings, reflecting how little they really knew of this other who lay staring and wondering beside them in the lamplight; among the priests of Cran, hiding the temple treasures and sending young Sednil hotfoot to the upper city with an urgent request for the guard to be doubled. Fear was in the creak of a door, the howling of a dog, the sound of footsteps outside.

The sheer audacity of the killing intensified the dread it evoked. If the High Counselor, in the very midst of his luxury, could fall a victim, with slaves and soldiers on every hand, then who could count himself safe? And the unknown killers had vanished like ghosts at cock-crow. From the upper city, completely walled round and sentineled, out of which was no egress save by the Peacock Gate, they had simply disappeared. Search, next day, of every slope and cleft on Mount Crandor revealed no least trace of them. So incredible was this that many wondered whether in fact there had ever been any assailants at all. The High Counselor's black concubine, who had been with him when he met his death, had, of course, been held for questioning, as had the other, the Tonildan girl who had accompanied him to the gardens that night. To some, despite the gruesome and brutal nature of the High Counselor's wounds, it seemed more likely that the black girl herself had killed him than that two intruders, for whose existence there was only her word, should have contrived to escape from the upper city unseen. But no, said others: she might, to be sure, have taken a knife with her in the boat unnoticed by her tipsy, lecherous master; but the stake had been cut from the zoan thicket and sharpened there (shavings had been found; and the stump). And this the girl would not have had time to do, even supposing that her master had been too gorged and heedless to stop her. Ah, but might it not have been left there, ready for her use, by an accomplice? Well, possibly. Anyway, they all concluded, she was unlikely to come out of the business with her life. Whatever part she might or might not have played, the authorities, if only to be on the safe side, would no doubt put her out of the way.

Such was the general opinion, which did not fail to reach the ears of Maia in her cell in the temple of Cran.

By noon of the third day after the murder the Lord General was back in the city, having been overtaken by the news when no more than two days' march away. He, after no more than the barest of consultations with Durakkon, at once set about seeking the truth. So far as was known, Sencho had never made any written lists of suspects or known dissidents, preferring to keep what he knew in his own head. A few names, however, were already known to the Lord General, while others were now given to him by certain of Sencho's agents who, scenting blood-money, came forward of their own accord. Kembri at once sent lists to the various provincial governors, ordering the arrest of all known suspects of secondary importance— servants, drabs, watermen and the like. Those of higher rank, he judged, would be best left alone for the time being. Apart from anything else, most would not be easy to apprehend without using soldiers—soldiers whom at the moment he could ill spare. Meanwhile the lesser fry— perhaps fifty or sixty in all—were to be sent under guard to Bekla.

Kembri, flanked on one side by the chief priest of Cran and on the other by the governor of Tonilda, looked up at the black girl standing before him on the other side of the table. Her eyes, bloodshot and heavy-lidded with sleeplessness, nevertheless returned his gaze steadily.

"You say," said Kembri, "that the High Counselor wanted you to go with him to some secluded part of the gardens?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Who actually suggested that—he or you?" ' "He wished it, my lord. He wanted me to do what he usually required one or other of us to do after he'd had supper: but since we were in the gardens and not in his house, we had to go somewhere out of the way."

"Very well: but the soldiers are clear that they heard you suggesting the boat."

"Yes, my lord. Seein' what he wanted, to take the boat was the most discreet and convenient thing. I simply told the slaves to put cushions in the boat and then I helped the High Counselor into it."

There was a pause.

"Well, go on," said Kembri.

"I took the boat up under the trees, my lord, where we couldn' be seen, and began doin' what the High Counselor wanted."

"And then, according to you, two people came out from among the trees and attacked him?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You were actually lying above him at that moment? Isn't that so?"

"Yes, my lord. One of them pulled me away and stabbed me while the other set on the High Counselor."

"Why didn't they kill you, do you suppose?"

"They tried to, my lord, but I fought and struggled and I suppose they must have been in a hurry to get away."

There was a longer pause, while the Lord General continued to stare up at the girl. At length he said, "If you want to avoid torture, I suggest you tell me now what more you know about this business."

"I know nothin' more, my lord."

"Then I'll tell you what we know. You came up to Bekla several months ago from a house in Thettit called the Lily Pool: you came at your own request. Among the men who sometimes came to that house there was a licensed pedlar, who also used to go from time to time to the High Counselor's house here, in the upper city."

"Yes, Zirek: I know him, my lord."

"Some little while ago the High Counselor sold one of his girls, named Meris, to the Lily Pool. You know that?"

"I knew she'd been sold, my lord, but not where she'd gone. We weren' told."

"That girl and the pedlar left the Lily Pool together a few days ago, before the spring festival. Since then they've not been seen. But you were the last person ta see them, weren't you?"

"If you're askin' me whether they were the ones who did the killin', my lord, I can' say one way or the other. It was dark and the attack was very swift and violent. I couldn' have recognized anyone, whether I knew them or not."

"No, you didn't need to, because you knew they'd be waiting there, didn't you? That was why you took the High Counselor there."

"No, my lord: I was well off in that household, as the säiyett Terebinthia will tell you. The High Counselor liked me: I had no reason to kill him. May I also respectfully point out that if I'd been an accomplice I might have been expected to have escaped with the killers?"

"Take her away!" said Kembri. "And bring in the Tonildan!"

The black girl, clearly still in pain from her wounds, limped out between the two soldiers in attendance.

"What do you make of that?" asked Kembri, turning to the governor as the door closed.

The governor, an elderly, shrewd man, hesitated.

"You're asking, of course, whether I think she knows more than she's telling us. It's tempting to conclude that she might, but it seems to me just as likely that she mightn't. After all, when she persuaded this woman in Thettit to send her up to Bekla, neither she nor anyone else could possibly have known that Sencho was going to buy her."

"No; but Lalloc may have thought that Sencho was likely to fancy her."

"Lalloc, Lord General? He'd be the last man to join in a plot. All the slave-traders are Leopards to a man: they know which side their bread's buttered."

"That's true," replied Kembri. "We can leave Lalloc out of it. But in fact I'm less interested in this girl's personal guilt or innocence than in how much she may know. Do you suppose she knows who was behind the killing and what they mean to do next?"

"She may very well have had some sort of hand in it and yet still know next to nothing," cut in the chief priest. "She could have been given instructions without knowing where they came from, let. alone anything about the people at the top. She'd better be tortured: that's the only way to make sure."

The door opened and the soldiers brought in the Tonildan girl. She was plainly terrified; staring wildly about her and scarcely able to put one foot before the other. Her long, fair hair hung in a dishevelled mass about her shoulders. Her face and hands were grimy and her eyes circled with dark rings.

Appearing thus, she looked even younger than her years—a mere child, devoid of all self-possession or power to dissemble. Kembri found himself thinking that if she was innocent he felt sorry for her.

"Bring up that bench," he said to one of the soldiers. "Let her sit down."

The girl half-fell onto the bench, breathing hard and staring out of her blue eyes like a trapped animal.

"You come from Tonilda, don't you?" said Kembri.

The girl nodded speechlessly.

"Did you know Occula before you came to Bekla?"

"No, my lord: we met on the way here. At Puhra, 'twas."

"I see," said Kembri. He leaned across the table. "Now, if you don't want to die, tell me who told you that the two of you were to take part in murdering the High Counselor."

At this the girl broke into a torrent of weeping.

"I never knew nothing about it, my lord! I wasn't nowhere near when it happened, even! I—"

The soldiers shook her and she became silent.

"We know that," said Kembri. "The truth is, you weren't where you should have been, were you? You were supposed to be attending on the High Counselor. You had no business to leave him—"

"But he'd sent me, my lord! He'd sent me, himself, to find an Urtan lady and tell her as he wanted to see her—"

"Yes, we know that, too. But after you'd found her and delivered your message you didn't go back to him, did you? Your job was to distract attention; to entice everyone you could to watch you in the water down at the other end of the garden. What happened when you went to look for the Urtan lady, and why didn't you go back to the High Counselor as soon as you'd found her?"

"First I happened to meet Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion, my lord, and he began talking to me, but I told him as I had this errand to do. And then, while I was on looking for the lady, I met Lord Bayub-Otal."

"Bayub-Otal?" said Kembri sharply. In all the turmoil of the last few days he had forgotten this girl's connection with Bayub-Otal—-a suspect if ever there was one. Now it returned to him forcefully. "Well, and what did he say to you?"

"He said, my lord, as I needn't go on being a slave-girl if I didn't want. And then—"

"He said what?" asked Kembri. The chief priest, who had been conferring with the governor of Tonilda, looked up sharply.

"My lord, he said if ever I wanted to leave Bekla I'd only to tell him."

Kembri and the governor looked at each other.

"And what did you reply to that?" asked the governor.

"I said, my lord, that if he meant as he wanted to buy me, he'd better speak to the High Counselor, not to me: and then he was off, he just went away very sharp, like."

"To speak to the High Counselor, you mean?"

"I can't say, my lord. At the time I reckoned he must have, and I thought as that was likely to make the High Counselor mad at me. I mean, he might think I'd suggested the idea myself, like. So I reckoned I'd wait a little while 'fore I went back; only he was always in a better frame of mind after he'd been with a girl, you see."

"You mean, you thought you'd leave him to Occula?"

"Yes, my lord, I did think that."

"Well, and what then?" said the governor.

"So while I was waiting, Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion, he came up to me again, and asked was I a good swimmer."

"Why did he ask you that?"

"Well, his friends was all playing round the water, see? So I says yes, I was good, and then he said if I could swim so well I'd better show everyone. So I just done what he said." She paused; then burst out passionately, "It's true, my lord! He'll tell you himself!"

"You can leave that to us," said Kembri. "All right; take her away!"

When the soldiers had gone he said, "My son's already told me that it was he who put her up to the swimming game: but I wanted to hear what she had to say herself. Actually, I doubt she was deliberately trying to distract attention from the killing."

"Still, both girls had better be tortured," said the chief priest. "Don't you agree?"

Kembri made no immediate reply. The truth was that for various reasons he felt disinclined to consent.

Judicial torture in Bekla (which by law could be used only upon slaves) was a function of the priesthood of Gran. Kembri had never liked the chief priest, whom he had always suspected of being in some sort of secret understanding with Sencho. It now appeared to him that the chief priest—a celibate but not a eunuch—seemed distastefully eager for a little torture—more so than he would have been if the suspects had been laborers rather than pretty girls. As concubines these two were above average and likely to become excellent shearnas. They were popular. One of two of the young Leopards, in fact, had already mentioned to him privately that they hoped he might be able to avoid torturing them. Besides, they were valuable property, no less than jewels or silver. Sencho had left no heir and everything he had possessed now belonged to the state— strictly speaking, to the temple: but Kembri himself and other Leopard leaders would come in for a cut. The idea of torturing, and thereby ruining, or at least gravely damaging, a couple of girls worth fourteen or fifteen thousand meld apiece, simply on the chance that they might know a little—not much—more than they had already told, struck him, on balance, as more loss than gain. What he was really seeking at this juncture was clear evidence against Santil-kè-Erketlis, which was more likely to be obtainable from arrested Tonildans than from secluded Beklan dwellers like these girls.

Lastly and most important, what the Tonildan child had said about Bayub-Otal had just suggested to Kembri an entirely new means of gaining information, which he felt strongly ought to be made all possible use of.

The governor and the chief priest were awaiting his answer. He thought quickly. It would hardly do simply to set aside the chief priest altogether and order the release of both girls: better to settle for releasing the Tonildan, who in any case was almost certainly innocent and for whom he now had a special use. The black girl, against whom suspicion was stronger, would have to be relinquished to the priests.

A pity, but there it was.

"The black girl, yes," he replied. "As for the Tonildan, though, I'd like to tell you something that's just occurred to me with regard to Bayub-Otal. If I'm not mistaken, it could turn out very valuable indeed."

Once more Maia, this time with unchained hands and no soldiers behind her, sat on the bench facing the Lord General. Until this moment, she had been close to hysteria and collapse. Only her fear of her questioners had enabled her to control herself sufficiently to answer them. During the past few days, since the killing, she had suffered unspeakable agonies of terror and anxiety, unable to eat and scarcely to sleep, anticipating every dreadful conclusion to what had become a continuous, waking nightmare. Often she called to mind the ghastly corpses which she and Occula, on their way to Bekla, had seen hanging by the road; and at such times, crouching in the cell where they had locked her, she would cover her face and rock to and fro, sobbing and calling on Lespa and Shakkarn to put an end to her fife. The knowledge that she was innocent comforted her no more than it has ever comforted any helpless person in arrest under a despotism. What she knew was that she was in dire trouble, that the authorities were looking for culprits and that she had no influential friend to speak for her. She had given herself up for dead and hoped only that the horrible business might somehow be over quickly.

Throughout all this time her one coherent thought had been for Occula, whom she had not seen since they had parted in the moonlit gardens by the Barb. Occula, she now realized, must of course have played a vital part in the killing of Sencho, the killing itself having been carried out by the pedlar Zirek, no doubt helped by Meris. Yet this—or so it seemed to her—could be proved only if she herself were to tell all she now knew—of the messages passed by means of the pottery cats, of the old woman in the sweet-shop, the omen of the hunting owl and her own brief glimpse of Zirek and Meris in the crowd near the Peacock Gate. Only these could condemn Occula, for to all appearances it was plausible enough that she and Sencho should have taken the boat up the lake to a secluded place. Maia, of course, was ignorant that Kembri and Sencho themselves had sent Meris to the Lily Pool in Thettit or that Zirek, as an agent of Sencho, had been ordered to collect her from there and take her to Chalcon. She supposed that if only she herself could succeed in maintaining the appearance of one who knew nothing, there could be no case against Occula, since Sencho had enemies enough for forty men.

She had come back into the room full of dread. Yet now, facing Kembri for the second time, she almost at once perceived intuitively—as does any accused or suspect, if it occurs—-a certain easing of the atmosphere. At first with incredulity, for she was superstitiously afraid even to entertain the idea, she sensed that apparently it was no longer their intention to fasten guilt upon her: their questions were no longer directed to suggesting that she might have devised the swimming game as a distraction to cover the murder. Then it occurred to her that Elvair-ka-Virrion must have corroborated what she had already told them about his part in it.

"We know, because the soldiers and the black girl have told us," said the Tonildan governor, "that in fact Bayub-Otal didn't speak to the High Counselor about buying you."

This came as a surprise to Maia who, ever since Occula had warned her, in the gardens, not to return to Sencho, had continued to suppose that Bayub-Otal must have asked him to sell her. Yet if he had not, this only made it all the more vital that no one should learn that Occula had sought her out and told her to keep away. She said nothing.

"However, we'll leave that for the moment," interposed Kembri, in a tone which brought to Maia an immediate sense of relief. "I want to talk to you again, Maia, about this conversation you say you had with Lord Bayub-Otal in the gardens that night. Are you sure that he said that if you wanted to leave Bekla you had only to tell him?"

"Yes, my lord; I'm absolutely certain about that."

"And do you like Bayub-Otal?"

"No, that I don't, my lord. One time I thought I did; but now I hate him!"

"Why?"

Maia hesitated. She could hardly reply, "Because I offered myself to him and he rejected me."

"Well, never mind," said Kembri briskly. "If you hate him that'll be all to the good, as long as you never let him see it. He's almost certainly a secret enemy of Bekla. We believe he may very well have entered into some sort of agreement with King Karnat, and that's what we need to learn more, about, do you see?"

"Yes, my lord."

"We're going to let it be known publicly that both you and the black girl are being held here for further questioning, and in fact it will be made to look as though you've been questioned in the usual way. Then, late tomorrow night, you'll make your way to Bayub-Otal's lodgings. Do you know where they are?"

"No, my lord: I've never been much in the lower city at all."

"No matter. It'll be very late—after midnight. Someone will guide you there and leave you outside. Then you'll wake Bayub-Otal, tell him that you've escaped from the temple and beg him to help you to get away from Bekla. After that you'll have to rely on your own wits."

"You mean, he'll take me away with him?"

"That's what we hope."

"But, my lord—" She was perplexed. "Suppose I do find out something—say he gets a message from this king or something p' that—how'm I to pass it on to you?"

"That'll depend entirely on yourself. You'll have to find the best way you can. It's a matter of keeping your head. You may have to get back here alone. You may even have to kill him first. I repeat, this is risky work, Maia. But it's of great importance; and if you succeed—whatever success may turn out to be—the reward will surprise you—your freedom and more besides, I assure you. But don't try to run away or betray us, do you see? because that would turn out very badly for you in the long run: very badly indeed."

"No fear of that, my lord: I'll do all I can. Only could I—?" She stopped uncertainly.

"What?" asked Kembri.

"Could I sleep now, my lord? Only I'm that tired, I can't hardly think."

"Very well," said Kembri. "I'll tell you more tomorrow."

The girl, about to get up, suddenly hesitated.

"Occula, my lord! Occula never done anything! You'll let her go?" .

"We ask the questions, not you," interposed the chief priest. "She's being held here for questioning. That's enough!"

The girl half-rose, gripping the edge of the table. Kembri was about to call in the guards to remove her when the door was opened from outside by a soldier who, raising his palm to his forehead, announced "My lord, the Sacred Queen!"

Next moment Queen Fornis, attended by the same dark-haired woman whom Maia had seen with her by the Barb, entered the room. The three examiners rose to their feet, Kembri motioning to Maia to go and stand against the further wall.

The Sacred Queen was dressed in a clinging robe of vivid purple, the crimson hem of which fell almost to her silver, bead-embroidered sandals. Her amazing hair, now piled on her head, was held in place by two jewelled combs and by a gold chain wound in and out of the tresses. Round her neck, on a second, finer chain, hung a silver leopard as big as her thumb. Her fingernails were lacquered crimson and on her left forefinger was a spiral ring in the form of a gold serpent with ruby eyes.

Unhurriedly, she crossed the room and then motioned to her woman to drag Kembri's heavy, carved chair into the sunlight by the window. Having seated herself, she remained gazing towards the Lord General with a slight smile and an air of complete composure. Looking at her, Maia received an overwhelming impression of assured, self-seeking potency. It was as though she were possessed by an intense, ruthless force, at this present moment less evil than simply inhuman; a force which, like an animal, would unthinkingly and of its very nature pursue its object with no thought of anything beyond self-interest. The mere sight of her was disturbing, conveying as it did a sense of one possessing both more and less than normal human nature.

Maia realized furthermore that the three men, now seating themselves once more in response to her gesture, also felt—to some extent, at any rate—the same disquiet as herself.

"Well, Kembri," said the Sacred Queen at length, with a certain air of having waited long enough to be sure that no one was going to have the temerity to speak first, "have you found out the truth about the High Counselor's death?"

"Partly, esta-säiyett. But before we can be sure we shall need to examine several of those about to be arrested in the eastern provinces."

She spread her hands. "You have to do all this in order to work yourselves up to kill Santil-kè-Erketlis? Why not simply go and kill him?"

"I've already considered that, esta-säiyett, but Chalcon is remote, difficult country. We shall need to raise a special force for the purpose. In my view the real question is, once we openly declare Erketlis to be an enemy, how much support will he be able to attract to himself? We don't want to turn him into a heroic victim of Leopard tyranny throughout the eastern provinces. If only we can get positive proof that it was he who planned Sencho's death, then we've got law on our side: we can declare him a traitor and call him to account. Many more people will think twice about supporting him then."

She nodded absently, as though bored with all this reasoning, and merely waiting for him to be done.

While he was still speaking she made a gesture of dismissal to her woman, who raised her palm to her forehead and went out.

"The High Counselor's house—his property—that's being guarded, I suppose?"

"Naturally, esta-säiyett: there are soldiers there, and the domestic slaves have been left in the house for the time being."

"Including the woman Terebinthia?" asked the Sacred Queen.

Kembri looked embarrassed. "She—er—she left the city very suddenly the day after the murder, esta-säiyett. We don't know where she's gone. However, she's not under suspicion, for we know she never left the High Counselor's house at all that day."

"Perhaps not," replied the Sacred Queen, "but I think you know very well why she left the city so quickly, don't you?"

Before the Lord General could reply she went on, "And the High Counselor's girls?"

"Two of them were with him in the gardens that night, esta-säiyett—"

"I know that."

"Naturally, we're holding them for questioning."

"Naturally. But there was a third girl: I don't mean Dyphna, the one who bought her freedom that morning. Whom do I mean?"

Kembri hesitated. Maia could see that he was uneasy. The extent and accuracy of the queen's knowledge had evidently taken him by surprise. Fornis, now looking directly at him, spoke a little more sharply.

"I mean a girl named Milvushina. Where is she now?"

"She is—just at the moment—that is, while the household is being fully inventoried, you understand, esta-sai-yett—she is being looked after by my son."

"Yes. What you mean is that Elvair-ka-Virrion bribed Terebinthia and helped himself to the girl before any inventory of the High Counselor's property had been sub-mitted to the temple or to the High Baron?"

"Well—er—I dare say you know, esta-säiyett, that the girl is well-born—she came from the baron Enka-Mordet's family in Chalcon; a family we unfortunately had to destroy for sedition. I was quite unaware that the High Counselor had issued private instructions to the soldiers and enslaved her. Had I known, I would never have agreed. I think it's very doubtful in law whether she can be held to be a slave at all. In all the circumstances my son took pity on her. He thought that she—well, that she ought to be properly cared for."

"How very considerate of him! He probably also thought that I wouldn't come to learn of it. You know, of course, that by law all slaves in the household of a man who dies intestate without heirs belong to the temple?"

"Well, strictly speaking, esta-säiyett—"

"Yes, I am speaking strictly," replied she. "But perhaps Elvair-ka-Virrion consulted the chief priest before he helped himself to this girl, did he?"

The chief priest said nothing. The queen stood up.

"What a strange empire this is! Santil-kè-Erketlis must have every benefit of the law, but for the god Cran it's apparently otherwise. Let's hope he's not angered. Luckily he has at least got me to defend his interests."

She turned and looked at Maia, still standing against the wall in the posture of a waiting slave, head bent and hands clasped below her waist.

"This child was one of Sencho's girls too, wasn't she? What are you going to do with her? Help yourself? Or perhaps she's already earmarked for the governor here, is she?"

Kembri seemed to be controlling himself with an effort. "Esta-säiyett, if I may say so, you are a shade too exacting. The city has been turned upside-down by this murder. Everything has been in confusion—"

"Oh, very much," said she. "I'm confused myself; and not least by your son's blasphemous temerity."

"Esta-säiyett—"

Fornis turned her back on him. "Come here, child."

Maia, startled and blushing, obeyed. Fornis looked her slowly up and down.

"She looked much better when she was swimming in the Barb the other night. I'm afraid you can't have been looking after her very well, poor girl. She ought to have been treated in accordance with the law, of course. Never mind; I'll see to it for you. That will save any risk of further irregularity, such as household säiyettts accepting bribes to hand over girls who are temple property and then leaving the city before they can be called to account for it."

"Esta-säiyett," said Kembri, "for the sake of public safety and our own safety too, let us both be plain. I confess my son helped himself to the Chalcon girl and that he had no legal right to do so. But at least that causes no real harm. The Tonildan girl I need. She is vital to a secret and important scheme which could very well turn out to be of great advantage to us all."

The queen raised her eyebrows. "This child?"

"This child, esta-säiyett. As things stand, no other girl will do. I beg you not to make too much of my son's— lapse. This girl here may quite possibly be able to effect something of critical value to us all. Let me explain to you what I have in mind."

"No, you needn't," she said, raising her hand, on which the snake ring, catching the light, flashed an instant in Maia's eyes. "I can guess well enough. Some man is to be decoyed—enticed—betrayed. How else do you work, and what else could such a child be good for? As for your son, I was on my way to speak to the High Baron about this profane act on his part—"

"I'm convinced, esta-säiyett, that all he wanted was to show some kindness to a young woman of good family who should never have been enslaved to a man like Sencho—"

"And do you expect either me or the High Baron to believe that? For one thing, your son's ways are notorious." She paused reflectively. "But also I rather suspect, Lord General, that you may be entertaining certain notions on your own behalf regarding the future of the girl Milvushina. However, I'll say no more of that. In fact I'll oblige you: I'll oblige you in two respects. I'll disregard your son's sacrilegious behavior—for the moment—and I myself will look after this girl—this piece of temple property—until further notice."

"But I need her tomorrow, esta-säiyett."

"Then you may send to me and ask for her!" flashed the queen in a tone of conclusive finality. "The girl is temple property—not yours. Maia!" (Maia jumped.) "My säiyett is waiting for you in the corridor."

Thereupon she swept out of the room. Maia, bewildered, afraid to obey her and afraid not to, remained where she was beside the chair. After some moments, however, her eyes brimming with tears of nervous anxiety, she fell on her knees before the Lord General.

"My lord, Occula! If you'd only let me see Occula— just for a few moments—"

"You'd better hurry up and obey the Sacred Queen," replied Kembri coldly. "Whatever else you do, I don't advise you to displease her."

Maia, raising her palm, stumbled from the room. Outside, the Palteshi woman, giving her a half-smile, wrapped a cloak round her shoulders, took her arm and led her along the corridor and down the temple staircase.