104: AN ACCOUNT SETTLED

Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that Occula had put on weight, thought Maia, herself feeling rather like Sencho as she leaned back against the cushions. During the past two years she had forgotten about suppers like this. The Yeldashay had gone to her head, too, for she was no longer used to it. She felt splendid. They had eaten and drunk and chattered their heads off. At length Occula had dismissed the servants and Maia had recounted all her adventures from the night when her friend had come to her house in Bekla to warn her to get out of the city.

Zen-Otal was fast asleep on another pile of cushions in the corner of the room. Occula had admired him—her unparalleled boy—with polite praise, but was plainly not all that much enraptured. However, Maia had not really expected that she would be. She realized, now, that motherhood was one of the gods' great tidings to which Occula was simply deaf, and likely to remain so; just as, she remembered, good old Brero, who would never have dreamed of causing her a moment's vexation, had once remarked, "I can tell you all about music, säiyett, in one word: no good." There was no earthly point in letting things like this annoy you: you might as well expect a cat to eat hay. Yet she could remember the time when for her Occula had possessed the wisdom and infallibility of a demi-god-dess. What a shame, she thought, that while Occula had been able to teach her so much, she herself would never be able to communicate to her the first thing about motherhood! She wasn't fool enough to start trying, either. And Occula, she felt sure, must even now be entertaining feelings not unlike her own—what a pity to see her banzi, the one-time Serrelinda, fallen a victim, like all the rest, to the absurd slavery of marriage and maternity!

"I didn' tell you, banzi, did I," said Occula, refilling her goblet and putting her feet up on the supper-table, "that I've got Ogma in my household—have had for over a year? I know she'd want to be remembered to you. I'll give her your love when I get back, shall I?"

"Oh, yes, do! Poor old Ogma—clump! clump! Well, I'll bet she's as happy with you as it's possible for her to be anywhere."

"Of course, I've got more sense than to do what you did, banzi—put her in charge of the place. Nearly cost you your life, didn't it?"

"I suppose you've got some marvelous, charming säiyett, have you?" Maia felt much too replete and happy to take offense.

"Well, yes, I have; but Zuno's the one actually in charge. He'd never dream of leaving me. Well, you never know, of course, but I shouldn' think he would."

"Then Fornis—Fornis didn't take him with her?"

Occula looked up quickly. "Where d'you mean—where to?"

"Wherever she's gone."

For several seconds Occula made no reply. Then, putting her feet down again, she said very quietly and directly, "Banzi, you'd better tell me—how much do you know about—about where Fornis went?"

Maia frowned at her, puzzled. "Well, nothing, I reckon. We're a bit out of the way here, see. Only old Nasada, that's my doctor from Suba—"

"Yes, I've heard a good deal about Nasada. What did he tell you?"

"Well, he said no one in Suba knew what had become of Fornis; and then he said it seemed strange."

"I'm surprised he hasn' guessed—a man as knowledgeable as that. P'raps he has." She fell silent again, twisting a great gold ring on her finger and apparently deliberating with herself.

"Banzi," she said, looking up suddenly, "if I tell you— everythin'—will you swear by Frella-Tiltheh never to breathe a word—even to your wonderful Katrian husband?"

"Well, of course, dearest, if you ask. But—"

"It's not because I'm afraid of—of anythin' that could come to me from—from livin' men. It's because some things are—well, simply not to be told. But I doan' believe Kantza-Merada would want me not to tell you: not after Tharrin, and not after all we've been through together. When you've heard me out you'll understand. Go on, banzi—swear by Frella-Tiltheh."

"I swear by Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, and by the divine tamarrik seed, never to repeat to anyone what you're going to tell me."

"Good! Listen, then. And you'd better have some more of this Yeldashay, banzi, 'cos you're goin' to need it!"

She refilled Maia's goblet and her own, drank deeply, and began.

"The night you left Bekla, there was fightin' all over the city; the Lapanese, and Fornis's Palteshis. Remember?"

Maia nodded.

"It went on all that night and into the next day. But what finished it was when the Lapanese finally got it through their heads that Randronoth was dead. The news took hours to get round, you see: the fightin' was so confused, all over the place. But once his officers knew for a fact that Fornis and Han-Glat had murdered him, they lost heart. Two of his captains—young Seekron and another man called Mendel-el-Ekna—"

"Ah, he was the one as got us out that night!" said Maia.

"Was he? I'm not surprised: everyone spoke well of him in that business. Well, they got together what was left of the Lapanese and took them back south again. Still, never mind that for now. I'll come back to that: what I want to tell you about is my part.

"So Form's had the city, and no one to dispute it except Eud-Ecachlon. He was supposed to be holdin' it for Kem-bri, but he was shit-scared, and I doan' blame him, because he hadn' enough men to hope to beat Forms. Those he had he took and shut himself up in the citadel.

"So there was Fornis—and Zuno and Ashaktis and me along with her, of course—in the Barons' Palace, givin' out that she'd restored the rightful dominion of the Sacred Queen in accordance with the will of the gods. And what she meant to do about Kembri and Santil-kè-Erketlis I never knew. Perhaps she didn', either; 'cos matters were taken out of her hands. Andwhod'youthinkdidthat.banzi?"

"You?"

"No; you."

"MelOccula, whatever d'you mean?"

"I'll tell you. You remember we were talkin' just now about N'Kasit, the leather dealer I sent you to, in the big warehouse? He was one of the best agents the heldril had, you know. He was a heldro agent for five years and no one ever suspected him—not even Sencho. He had a few narrow squeaks after Sencho was killed, though. They searched his warehouse more than once."

"I'm not surprised he wasn't suspected," said Maia. "I remember Zirek calling him a cold fish and that's how he struck me, too: what you'd call imperturbable, like."

"Well, there was another side to him, I can assure you, banzi," said Occula, "as you're about to hear, It must have been next day—yes, it was the next day—after the Lapanese had left Bekla, that Fornis sent Ashaktis to tell the chief priest she was comin' down to the temple. I knew what that meant: she was goin' to set about frightenin' him into supportin' her for a third reign as Sacred Queen. I believe she'd have done it, too—she could do anythin', that woman—only it never got that far, you see.

"She set out from the Barons' Palace about an hour later, and she told me and Zuno to attend her. She'd helped herself to your golden jekzha, banzi, and I can tell you it didn' half make me grind my bastin' teeth, comin' along behind, to see her sittin' up in that. Still, it proved a mistake, as you'll hear.

"Soon as we got down to the bottom of the Street of the Armourers, we could see there was somethin' goin' on in the Caravan Market. Someone was up on the Scales, talkin' and wavin' his arms, and a whole crowd of people were listenin'; and you could see they were on his side, too, whatever it was all about.

"Well, as you know, Fornis was always a great one for confrontin' anyone or anybody. Give her a situation and an adversary and she'd always wade in. Most people prefer to avoid trouble if they can, doan' they? She knew that, and she knew how to make the most of it. She'd tackle anyone face to face."

"I know," said Maia. "I remember her putting down Kembri and the chief priest and the governor of Tonilda, all in one go. I was in a terrible bad way when she came in, but I've never forgotten it. She took me away and they couldn't stop her, that was what it came down to. They couldn't stand up to her at all."

"Only you couldn' do what she wanted, could you? Her funny little games? Well, I doan' blame you, banzi. I couldn' have done it myself if I hadn' had Kantza-Merada with me, and Zai's unavenged ghost as well.

"Anyway, that mornin', as soon as she saw the crowd round the Scales, Fornis told the Palteshis who were pullin' your jekzha to go straight over. And when we got closer, I saw it was N'Kasit who was up there, boomin' away like a cow after a calf. They were all listenin' to him, and no one—no soldiers nor anybody—tryin' to stop him.

" 'So,' he was declaimin' as we came up, 'where is she? That's what I'm askin'. If she hasn' been murdered, where is she? The girl the gods sent to preserve the city—the girl who swam the Valderra! Where is she, the luck of the empire? Her house is empty, her servants are gone. If you doan' believe me, there's a man here from the upper city, and he's seen her empty house with his own eyes!'

"They were all hangin' on every word he said, and he was so wrapped up in it that he never noticed Fornis comin' up behind him.

" 'I'll tell you where she is,' he shouted. 'She's been murdered, for envy of her beauty and her luck—the luck of the gods, which she passed on to all of you! Why are you all standin' there like a bunch of idiots, when you've been robbed of your sacred luck? Where's your Maia Serrelinda? Why doan' you go to the upper city and demand to know?'

"He was doin' it so convincin'ly that he had me badly worried. I was wonderin' whether you could ever have reached his warehouse that night, or if you had, whether you'd managed to get out of Bekla alive.

"Well, all of a sudden he looked round and there was Fornis starin' up at him without a word. He hadn't been expectin' that, of course, and he stopped dead in the mid-dle of what he was sayin'.

"She took her time, lookin' him up and down. Everybody was watchin' and waitin' to see what would happen. And at last she said 'Come here.'

"Well, that put him fair and square on the spot, banzi, you see; because either he had to climb dpwn off the Scales and go and stand in front of her, or else he had to refuse to obey the Sacred Queen—and he hadn' quite got himself up to that pitch yet.

"He hesitated for quite a few moments, and Fornis just sat there and waited. And then he climbed down off the Scales—yes, he did: she was incredible, that woman, wasn' she?—and he went and stood in front of her.

" 'Now,' she said, 'what is all this that you've been talkin' about, may I ask?'

"You could see he was frightened, but he still did his best to stand up to her. 'We're talkin' about Maia Serrelinda, esta-säiyett,' he answered. 'We want to know where she is. We believe you've done away with her.'

" 'Oh, really?' says Fornis, noddin' once or twice and fannin' herself—it was scorchin' hot that mornin'. 'I see! Well then, you'd better learn differently, hadn' you? For as it happens I know who killed Maia.'

"That fairly made my blood run cold, banzi, for I believed her. Everyone believed her. You could see it in their faces. They were all paralyzed like rabbits by a stoat. And what she was goin' to say next I doan' know, but if she'd told them all to go up the Sheldad and jump in the Monju I believe they'd have done it.

" 'I think you'd better come along with me to the tem-ple,' she said to N'Kasit, 'so that we can sort this little matter out.'

"And then, banzi, just for once she got a taste of her own medicine; the only person in the whole of Bekla, I suppose, who wasn' afraid of her. Well, you'd have to be mad, wouldn' you, not to be afraid of her?"

"Who?" asked Maia, leaning forward and gripping the edge of the table. "Who, Occula? Who?"

"D'you remember old Jejjereth, the crazy prophet-man?" replied the black girl. "It was him. All in a moment he'd leapt out of the crowd and there he was, dancin' and jabberin' like a great, stinkin' ape alongside your jekzha.

" 'Ah!' he shouted. 'A shadow! A shadow will cover the city! The evil woman who gave me a knife to kill Maia! But I wouldn' do it! And when you shall see a murderess sittin' on the sacred throne, then you shall know that the judgement of the gods is nigh at hand!' And he said a whole lot more like that, banzi. He was wavin' his arms about and hoppin' from one foot to the other, and then he tried to climb up into the jekzha.

"Fornis didn' hesitate a second. She drew her knife— she never went anywhere without a knife, you know—and stabbed him straight to the heart. He went down without another word; but he was kickin' and thrashin' about in the dust for quite a bit, and the blood was somethin' to see: I can see it now.

" 'Right, let's get on,' says Fornis to the jekzha-men. 'We've wasted enough time here.' And off they set.

"But N'Kasit wasn't followin' her as she'd told him to.

" 'She's killed poor old Jejjereth!' he yelled to the peo-ple. As if they needed any tellin'! 'Poor old Jejjereth, that never harmed anyone! And she's got Maia's jekzha, too!'

"And that was the last I saw, because Fornis jus' went straight on without takin' the slightest notice, and none of them dared to touch her.

"We didn' go to the temple, though. She'd changed her mind about stayin' down in the lower city. As soon as we got down to the bottom of Storks Hill she made them go round by the Slave Market and back to the Peacock Gate without goin' through the Caravan Market again at all.

"Well, that evenin' I was helpin' Ashaktis to wait on her at supper when Zuno came in and said there was an officer outside who wanted to speak to her.

" 'What d'you mean, an officer?' says Fornis. 'Who is it?'

"Well, before Zuno could answer the officer came in, and who d'you reckon it was?"

Maia shook her head.

"It was Shend-Lador," said Occula. "I'd heard he'd come back to Bekla with Elvair, but of course I hadn' actually seen him. He saluted Fornis and then he said, 'Esta-säiyett, you must excuse this intrusion. Believe me, it may very well save your life and that's my only excuse.'

"Well, you remember Shenda, doan' you? It'd be very difficult for anyone, even Fornis, to get angry with Shenda. He always had a sort of a way with him, didn't he?

" 'You'd better tell me, then,' she said.

" 'It's the chief priest who's sent me, esta-säiyett,' says he.

" 'The chief priest?' answers Fornis. 'Well, you go back and tell the chief priest that if he's got anythin' to say to me he can come up here and say it for himself.'

" 'Well, that's just it, esta-säiyett,' said Shenda. 'He can't.'

" 'What d'you mean, he can't?" she asked.

" 'Well, esta-säiyett, it so happened I was down at the temple this evenin', havin' treatment for this wounded foot of mine from one of the priests. And while I was there, all of a sudden we heard this commotion outside. So the doctor and me, we went out to see what was up, and there was the chief priest and a lot of others; and down in the Tamarrik Court below there was this crowd—all sorts; women, too—and the chief priest was tryin' to calm them down; only he couldn' make himself heard.

They just kept on shoutin' "Serrelinda! Serrelinda!" and "Murder! Mur-der!" and "Jejjereth!" and things like that.'

" 'Well, I'll cut it short, esta-säiyett,' goes on Shenda. 'What it comes to is that the chief priest's sent me to tell you that the whole lower city's in a state close on disorder and riot. He sent me because he thought that as a wounded officer I'd be able to get through the streets without bein' set upon. There's no priest dares put his face outside the temple, you see. What the people are sayin'—and I beg you to bear in mind, esta-säiyett, that I'm only reportin' what the chief priest told me to tell you—is that you've murdered Maia Serrelinda. To be perfectly blunt, esta-säiyett, they're demandin' your life. The chief priest thinks you should leave Bekla at once, and keep out of the way for some time. He hopes you'll send him word where you are, and he'll let you know as soon as things are better.'

"And then, while Fornis was still chewin' on that, Shend-Lador added, "The chief priest particularly asked me to say, esta-säiyett, that if he can' assure the people that you've left the city, he woan' be answerable for anythin' that may happen.'

"Well, the next few hours were like a bastin' madhouse, banzi: you can' imagine it. Fornis insistin' she'd go down to the lower city herself and give them a piece of her mind, and Han-Glat preventin' her more or less by force: and then there were two more frantic messages from the chief priest, one brought by a pedlar and the other by a shearna called Nyllista (and I wonder what she was doin' in the temple, doan' you?). No one else could get through the mob, you see. You never heard such a shine in your life.

"Well, at last, in the middle of the night, above five or six hours after Shend-Lador had first come, Han-Glat told For-nis in so many words that she'd have to get out. And he flatly refused to come with her. He'd got Bekia and he meant to hang on to it. She raged and stormed and cursed, but he wouldn' budge an inch. And at last it began to dawn on Miss Fornis that if she refused he might even go the length of killin' her himself—that or else hand her over to the mob. The riotin' had been goin' on all night and we were half-expectin' them to come over the Peacock Wall any moment. The Palteshis were there to stop them, of course, but even they were pretty badly shaken by this time.

"Fornis's plan, when at last she'd been forced to accept the idea of leavin', was to rejoin her army—the army she'd left on the plain after she'd murdered Durakkon. She couldn' make out why they hadn' turned up: she'd been expectin' them every hour. And then, in the middle of that very night, while we were packin' up and gettin' ready to go, a couple of Palteshi soldiers arrived with news that must have shaken even her.

"Sendekar—good old Sendekar, out on the Valderra— he'd heard the rumor that Fornis had murdered you. Well, of course, banzi, if ever you had a friend in the whole empire it was Sendekar. And since he'd found out that Karnat had gone off to western Terekenalt and any sort of attack across the Valderra was unlikely for the time bein', he'd turned half his lads round and gone east. He'd joined up with Kerith-a-Thrain and between them they'd attacked the Palteshis a second time and made quite a mess of them. Just how bad a mess we couldn' make out, but the two soldiers were quite clear that there was no longer any chance of the Palteshis reachin' Bekla. And by the same token Fornis couldn' hope to get to them.

"You had to admit she had courage, the bitch. She heard the messengers out without a tremor; and then she said to Han-Glat, as cool as you like, 'Very well,' she said, 'since you're so anxious to see the back of me, you cowardly bastard, I'll go to Quiso, and Cran help you when I get back. I shan' need anythin' from you, except half a dozen soldiers. Here are the names of the particular men I want: go and get them yourself, now.' And do you know, banzi, Han-Glat just took the list out of her hand and went off to fetch them?

'And you, Shakti,' she said, 'get my clothes and stuff together, and hurry up about it. I'm takin' you and Zuno and Occula, that's all.'

"So about an hour later, banzi, we were let down a rope over the eastern wall of the upper city, hardly a quarter of a mile from your house. There was no other way out, you see: we couldn' go into the lower city, and as for the Red Gate, Eud-Ecachlon had the citadel and that was that.

"You'd have thought Fornis was off to a festival. Do you know, if I'd been some stranger who didn' know what a cruel, wicked woman she was, I believe I'd have found myself admirin' her that mornin'? You could see how she'd kept herself in power all those years. The Palteshis we had with us would have done anythin' for her, and she—well, she treated them exactly as if she was their officer—checkin' their weapons, givin' them nicknames and encouragin' them and makin' jokes and—well, all the rest of it. I got the notion that above all else she wanted to distract their minds from any idea that she was runnin' away. She spoke several times about 'When we get back' and how they could all look forward to Melekril in Bekla, and a lot more stuff like that. She acted as if she was in the very best of spirits.

" 'Are you reckonin' on walkin' the whole way to Quiso, Folda?' I asked her as we were startin' out.

" 'How else?' she answered. 'It'll do you all good—blow the cobwebs away. It's only a hundred miles: I could be there and back in ten days. Why? Doan' you fancy it?'

" 'But the mountains, esta-säiyett?' asked Zuno. (He wasn' lookin' a bit happy: not his idea of fun at all, of course.)

" 'Never been there?' said she. 'Very beautiful, Zuno: you'll like them, though of course we shall have to hurry through rather, if we're to get to Quiso before the Rains. Step out, my lad! I've got a hundred meld on you to be the first man into Gelt!' They all laughed at that—except Zuno. I believe she really was enjoyin' herself. She felt quite certain—she had for years—that nothin' could really get the better of her in the long run.

"At firs' we went straight up the Gelt high road. But durin' that mornin' I began to have a very strange feelin'. At the time I thought it mus' be the heat. It was swelterin' hot—you've no idea. Some of the soldiers were close to droppin', and she was carryin' his pack for one of them, if you please. She was carryin' as much weight as any of the other nine of us, and more than some.

"The feelin' was that I had to get Forms to leave the highway. And then I realized it was Kantza-Merada speakin' in my heart. She was tellin' me what to do. Pnly I wasn' to learn everythin', because if I had, I'd have got so frightened that I'd probably have made Fornis suspicious by actin' unnaturally. For that matter, you know, the gods have carried out their purposes through idiots and children before now. Their agents doan' have to understand what they're doin'—not for the purposes of the gods they doan'.

"About noon we spotted a village off to the west, in a patch of trees on the plain. It's very bare country, you know, north of Bekla, before you get up into Urtah. Just the plain one side and the Tonildan Waste the other and the road goin' on for mile after mile, up one slope and down the next. Any trees you see have usually been planted, to make a bit of shade and shelter—near a well, as a rule, for there aren' any rivers—not one.

" 'How about a rest and a bite over there in the shade, Folda?' I said. 'You can' expect everybody to have your kind of stayin' power.'

"Well, at first she said no, but after a bit I managed to persuade her that there was no point in wearin' them all out on the first day; so we went about a mile off the road, down a track to the village, and had some sour wine and a meal in a dirty little tavern. She kept the hood of her cloak up and anyway there was hardly anyone there but us.

"From then on, banzi, I was puttin' everythin' I had into workin' on her the same as I worked on Sencho. I knew what I had to do. Oh, but it was far, far harder than with Sencho, and that was hard enough! And that knife business with the Urtan fellow at the party that night—that was child's play compared to this. A strong, cunnin', powerful woman, still in her prime! You see, I had nothin' to go on at all except what Kantza-Merada was tellin' me. I didn' know myself what my purpose was supposed to be. All she'd vouchsafed to me was that I must keep Fornis off the high road—away from other travelers—as we went on across the plain.

"When she was ready to go, I suggested that if we were to stay on the open plain there'd be more chance of a bit of sport with her bow. She was always a great one for that, you know. Well, so we went on by cattle-tracks to the next village and the one beyond that, arrows on strings all the time. She shot a couple of kites, both of them busy with carrion, and one of those wild dogs. We came on a pack that apparently didn' know enough to keep out of bowshot— not out of her bowshot, anyway.

"When we stopped for the night she was still in good heart. She'd been sayin' we were goin' to camp, but as things turned out we lodged in a little sort of hamlet—a very poor, pinched place, where they were only too glad to see the color of our money. She made me sleep with her. She'd told the soldiers she kept me as a sort of personal bodyguard, and she sent Ashaktis off to sleep somewhere else. She enjoyed vexin' Ashaktis from time to time, you know: it was all part of the queer relationship they had with each other.

"Well, I needn' go into all the details, banzi, but by the next night I suppose we must have been thirty or thirty-five miles from Bekla, with about twenty miles to go to the Gelt foothills. And that was when the goddess began speakin' again, and when I began gettin' really frightened.

"I can' explain this, even to you: I couldn' explain it to anyone who didn' know it for themselves. I remember once, back in Silver Tedzhek, when I was no more than about eight, I heard Zai talkin' to an old priestess. An' I understood what they were talkin' about all right, even though I couldn' have explained it. She said 'Great sufferin', unendin' longin' and continual prayer: when these trench and water the heart, the goddess will spring up in it at last.'

"Well, she was springin' up now all right, and I hadn' been so frightened since I crossed the Govig—no, not even on the night when we killed Sencho—because what she told me— all she told me—was that we were gettin' closer and closer to a place of terrible dread and power. The dread was like a sort of invisible mist, thickenin' all the time we went on, because we were gettin' nearer and nearer to this place, whatever it might be. And I was the only person who could feel it, banzi; the only person out of all the ten of us. The soldiers were all cheerful enough, and Ashaktis seemed in better spirits, than when we started. The only person who noticed the state I was in was Zuno: he couldn' imagine the reason, but at least he showed me a bit of consideration; and I was glad of it, I can tell you. I felt as though an invisible thunderstorm was comin' up, darker and closer all round me. Only this wasn' thunder; it was fear; fear in the very air I was breathin', in my lungs and my heart. And all the time Kantza-Merada was sayin' to me, 'This furnace is bein' heated for you: it's your place that is comin', and your hour.' Closer and closer and worse and worse, until I could hardly go on. Once, for about half an hour, I couldn' even breathe properly. My lungs sort of closed up and the air itself seemed thick as blankets: it was like drownin' on dry land. Forms thought I was puttin' it on because I wanted to stop for a rest, and she began teasin' me. I let her go on thinkin' that. The breathless fit passed off after a time, but I was still afraid.

"That second night I couldn' sleep. Fornis had had me do what she wanted and she was sleepin' sound as a child, while I lay sweatin'. At last I slipped out of bed and went outside. It was a bright, clear night full of stars, but that didn' make me feel any better. I had a horrible fancy that the stars were like those studs they fix inside a guard hound's collar, so that you can control it by twistin'. I was the hound, and the goddess had me by the collar, pressin' the studs of the stars against my throat. I remember beggin' her for relief, but all she said in my heart was 'Remember your father. That is why you have been brought here.'

"I wandered down between the huts until I came to the far end of the village. I felt drenched in fear—you could have squeezed it out of me. I scarcely knew what I was doin'. I believe I was goin' to run away—anywhere, just as long as it was away. And then, suddenly, someone near me said, 'Occula!'

"It was a girl's voice and I knew I'd heard it somewhere before. That was all—I was in such a state that I thought it must be a ghost. I looked all round in the starlight and again the voice said, 'Occula' very quietly, sort of quick and low.

"And then I saw her, crouched down in the bushes. I went across to her. She was real all right. D'you know who it was? It was Chia, the girl you hit over the head with the fryin'-pan at Lalloc's: the girl you bought and sent home, remember?"

"Cran almighty!" said Maia. "Of course I remember her! Yes, of course, she was Urtan, wasn't she?"

"She clutched my wrist. 'Occula!' she said. 'I saw when you came this evenin'. It's her, isn' it? It is her?'

" 'Yes,' I said. 'It's her all right.'

" 'I knew it,' she said. 'I knew I couldn' be wrong. I've told them, Occula.'

" 'Told who?' I said.

" 'Them. Tomorrow you go that way, look.' She pointed across the plain in the dark, and it was exactly where the fear was comin' from. 'It's only a mile or so,' she said. 'Not far at all.'

" 'But how did you know I was goin' to come out here?' I asked.

" 'I knew,' she said. 'I was waitin' for you.'

" 'I'm half mad with fear now,' I said. 'Where are we goin', Chia? What is it I have to do?'

"And do you know what happened then, banzi? She stood up and put her arms round me and she whispered, 'I'm afraid darlin' Shockula's in for a bit of an ock! But I'll pray for you, my dear.'

"And then she was gone. But suddenly I didn' feel afraid any more. Oh, yes, the fear was still there. It was like a great, deep lake, stretchin' all round me, and I was still in it. But before, I hadn' been able to swim, and now I could. That's the only way I can put it.

"I went back to the hut and slept till mornin'.

"We were up about an hour after dawn and I felt as though I'd said good-bye to everythin' and everyone I'd ever known. The men cleared up and packed their kit. Ashaktis paid the Elder and Fornis told me to go and ask our best way. I went off and pretended to ask some of the village people, and then I came back.

" 'They say that's best, Folda,' I said, pointin' where Chia had. You could see now, by daylight, the ground slopin' up out of the village for about a mile; up to the top of a kind of ridge—quite easy goin'. She'd nothin' to say against it and we set out.

"I knew then that all I had to do was listen to the goddess and commit myself completely to obeyin' her, even to the point of layin' down my life. Lay down my life? Oh, that seemed easy, compared with the fear she'd taken away."

Occula paused for a few moments, as though listening. Then she got up, went quietly over to the door and suddenly flung it open. There was no one outside. She shut it, came back, sat down beside Maia and continued in a lower voice.

"We were in Urtah, now, of course. I doan' know how much you know about Urtah, banzi, but it's all grazin' country up there, green and well-watered—the valley of the Olmen. We'd crossed the Beklan plain and now we were comin' into the Urtan cattle country. When we got up to the top of that ridge we could see it all spread out below. The change, after the plain—well, I suppose it struck me all the harder because I hadn' been expectin' it. It was so green: in spite of the time of year it was scarcely dried up at all. It was like a sort of huge cattle-meadow goin' on for miles; an enormous saucer with low hills all round the edge. They've looked after it for generations, of course, and Cran only knows how much cattle-dung and stuff must have gone into it. We could see a good many villages, and I thought I could make out the Olmen—oh, must have been eight or nine miles away; but it was all mixed up with horizon haze, and smoke, too, from the villages on the skyline. And there were these great flocks—sheep as well as cattle—all over the grasslands, with dogs and little boys and girls herdin' them. I s'pose you've done it yourself, haven' you?"

"Well, sort of," answered Maia. "But 'course we never had all that many beasts, you see."

"It certainly was a sight—talk about prosperous! That's what the soldiers thought, too, and Ashaktis and even Zuno. Only he was limpin' already. He'd already told me he didn' know how he was goin' to last out the day. I remember one of the soldiers shadin' his eyes and saying, 'Shakkarn! There's a few thousand meld walkin' about down there!' And Fornis said, 'Well, Taburn, when we get back I'll give you a farm, if you think you can live with the Urtans.' And he said, 'Ah, that's just it, esta-säiyett, isn' it? The bulls'd be all right, but what about the men?' 'Kill them off,' said Fornis. 'Slaughter the men and keep the bulls.' So they went on jokin' like that as we began comin' down off the ridge.

"I'd been doin' my best all along to keep up my act as the Sacred Queen's favorite, but now I could hardly man-age it any more. The goddess had risen up erect in my heart, like a snake that's goin' to strike; and me—I was like a hinnari string—ready tuned, oh yes; but so taut I could have screamed.

" 'You're very quiet this mornin', Occula,' says Fornis. 'Somethin' on your mind?'

"And it was just at that very moment, banzi, as she said that, that I saw—oh, how can I make you understand? Were you ever plagued by wasps in summer, until you went out to find the nest and destroy it? You know—you walk along the edges of the fields, and the banks and patches of trees, and then perhaps you see one or two wasps comin' and goin', and then more, and you get closer until at last you come on a hole or perhaps just a crack in a ditch, and then all of a sudden you realize there they are, crawlin' in and out in hundreds: the place your trouble's been comin' from. This was like that, only a million times worse.

"It wasn' far away—about half a mile below us. There were three very strange-looking rifts—sort of chasms—side by side on the open grassland. They were narrow, and the same distance between each; and they were all the same length, as if someone might actually have made them, a long time ago; only it would have to have been a god or a giant, because they were big—oh, I suppose three or four hundred yards long, each of them. You couldn' see how deep they were, because they were full of trees, and the branches stretched right across like a sort of carpet-— they were as narrow as that. The grass and weeds were growin' tall all round them—you could see no flocks ever went there: and there were no paths leadin' to them; nothin'. And this was where the fear was comin' from—tens of thousands of ills and terrors and evils, creepin' out and flyin' off into the air. They were about their own business, and it wasn' men's business; and oh, banzi, I was the only one of us who could feel them or know they were there! I'm a dead girl, I thought: no human bein' can know that and go on livin'. Yet still I wasn' afraid, because it was my death. It was my own death, for Zai and for Kantza-Merada, and I was entirely ready for it.

" 'Oh, no, Folda,' I said—and I felt as though I was in a play, speakin' words through a mask—'No, I was just lookin' at those funny clefts down there and wonderin' what they could be: only I've never seen anythin' quite like them before, have you?'

" 'Where?' she said, and then she caught sight of them for herself. 'Why, no, I haven',' she said. 'You're right; they are funny. Come on, we'll go down and have a look at them; it'll beabit of sport. Iwonder how deep they are.'

"So she led the way down in the sunshine; and I was walkin' beside her while she talked away. And then all of a sudden she stopped and said, 'Ah, here's someone comin' to meet us. He'll tell us, I expect.'

"It was an old man who was comin'; a man who looked a bit like a priest, very grave and dignified, but roughly dressed and shabby-lookin' compared with the priests in Bekla. Although it was so hot, he was wrapped in a cloak and he was walkin' with a long staff; it had symbols cut on it and some sort of letters, too. There were two or three younger men with Mm—just ordinary herdsmen, they looked like. I didn' notice anythin' particular about them.

"The old man bowed to Fornis and greeted her very courteously and then he asked her whether we were strangers travelin' through.

" 'Yes, that's right, my good man,' she said, 'but you needn' think you're goin' to get any sort of toll out of us, though I doan' mind givin' your men the price of a drink. But since you're here,' she went on, before he'd had time to answer, 'perhaps you can tell me somethin' about those queer-lookin' ravines. I want to go and have a closer look at them.'

" 'Can you tell me their name?' he asked her.

" 'Oh,' says she, 'I thought you were goin' to tell me that. You live here, doan' you?'

" 'I do, säiyett,' he said; and now I could see—only she couldn'—that in some way I can' explain he'd taken charge of her, like a priest when an animal's taken to the temple. 'I and my men will walk down there and show them to you, since you wish it.'

"So then Queen Fornis stepped out in front with the old man, and Ashaktis and Zuno and me, we came behind with the herdsmen. But never a word we said to each other—not once. The men said nothin', you see, and it wasn' Ashaktis's way to waste words on people she despised. Zuno was frightened, because he was sure now he wouldn' be able to finish another day and he knew what Fornis had done to the soldier who'd foundered on her march to Bekla after she'd killed Durakkon. As for me, I felt as though I was walkin' to my own execution. I kept lookin' round at the sun and thinkin', 'I'm seein' that for the last time.' But even now I wasn' afraid. It was all a dream—a trance in the sun, with the grasshoppers zippin' and now and then one of those hollow, flat sheep-bells clopperin' from somewhere along the slope. There were a lot of anthills, I remember, and a smell of chamomile and tansy in the air.

"I could hear Fornis laughin' and talkin' to the old man, but he didn' laugh back. He jus' kept up with her, leanin' on his staff and every now and then noddin' as she spoke. I felt—well, I felt we'd become a kind of procession. There was somethin' grave and ceremonial about it, for all Fornis was so glib and so much taken up with the prospect of sport.

"We came to the tall grass surroundin' the ravines, and she led the way straight in, tramplin' it down as she went. We followed her in single file, now, because it was up to your waist and there were a lot of nettles and thistles too: but she didn' mind them; she was so eager to get there.

"So we came up to the lip of the middle ravine. It was very abrupt, like the edge of a cliff, but all overgrown, and the long grass actually tangled up with the leaves of the trees. The trees were growin' out of the sides of the ravine, you see, and their leaves and branches stretched almost right across, as I told you. But now that we were on the very edge, lookin' down, the leaves weren' an unbroken coverin', as they'd seemed when we were up on the ridge. You could see, now, down among the branches and through them. And below them, banzi, below the leaves, there was nothin'—nothin' at all: just bare, stony ground, almost sheer, slopin' down into darkness. Do you remember that day at Sencho's, when we put the two big silver mirrors opposite each other and took it in turns to look in; and you were so frightened? This was far worse. That place went down for ever. It was as though you were lookin' into the night sky from the other side. I tried to imagine it, goin' on and on, down and down, nothin' but stones and rock; not a beetle, not a fly, not a sound since the world began.

"I came back four or five steps from the edge. I felt faint; Zuno actually had to hold me up for a few moments. I knew now what the goddess required of me and why she hadn' told me before: it would have driven me mad and I'd never have got there. I'd thought she only required my death; but she was requirin' more than that. I remember once in Thettit seein' a condemned man brought out, and he was puttin' on one hell of a good act; until he actually saw the scaffold.

"Fornis had come back a few yards, too. 'Well,' she said—and she actually clapped the old man on the shoulder, as though they'd been in a tavern together—'this'll be a lark, woan' it? How deep is it, do you know?'

" 'I can't tell you that, säiyett,' he answered.

" 'Well, then,' she said, 'we shall just have to find out, shan't we? Shakti, you'll come, woan' you? Remember the herons in Suba?'

"Ashaktis had looked in and she was white to the lips. 'I'm sorry, säiyett,' she said. 'I'm afraid I'm a little too old for it now. I beg you to excuse me.'

" 'Oh, Cran's teeth!' said Fornis. "The whole damn' place seems to be full of cowards and weaklin's today, what with you and Zuno. I shall have to think what I'm goin' to do about it later, shan't I? Come on then, Occula! Apparently it's just you and me.'

" 'Yes, Folda,' I said. 'Just you and me.'

"So then she went off into the bushes by herself. I suppose the truth was that it had loosened even her bowels, but it hadn' loosened mine. While she was gone I stood and prayed aloud. I didn' care who heard me—to tell you the truth, by this time I was hardly thinkin' about anyone else bein' there at all. I went through the litany of Kantza-Merada for the last time.

"At the word of the dark judges, that word which 

    tortures the spirit, 

Kantza-Merada, even the goddess, was turned to a 

    dead body, 

Defiled, polluted, a corpse hangin' from a stake. 

'Most strangely, Kantza-Merada, are the laws of the 

    dark world effected. 

O Kantza-Merada, do not question the laws of the 

    nether world.' 

The goddess from the great above descended to the 

    great below. 

To the nether world of darkness she descended. 

The goddess abandoned heaven, abandoned earth, 

Abandoned dominion, abandoned ladyship, 

To the nether world of darkness she descended."

Occula was sobbing. After a few moments she dug her nails into her palm, drew a deep breath and went on.

"I was just finishin' when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped and looked round: it was the old priest. I knew now that he was a priest. He was a herdsman, but he was the priest of that place, too: whenever there was anythin' needed to be done, as you might say.

"He stared into my eyes for what seemed a long time. At last he said, 'Those whom I serve have spoken in my heart and told me that you are the one appointed to carry this out. Am I right?'

"'Yes,'I said.

" 'But you have no weapon.'

" 'I'm the weapon,' I answered.

"He stared into my eyes again and then he said, 'Even here there is the frissoor. You have it. Do as you judge best. I will pray for you.'

"And then Form's came back, all stripped and ready. She patted Zuno on the cheek. 'Cheer up, little chap,' she said. 'If I doan' forget, I'll stick a knife in you this afternoon, and then you'll have nothin' more to worry about, will you? Now come on, Occula, if you're ready.'

"And with that, and without a moment's hesitation, she went over the brink of the ravine, and I went after her.

"Now I'll try to explain the way of it, banzi, as best I can. First, at the top, there were the trees. The side wasn' absolutely sheer—not to begin with: it was a steep, earthy slope, with the trees growin' out of it—small oaks and thorn and that sort of thing. They were growin' outwards from the face, so you could catch hold and slither down between them from one to another.

"We pushed through the first branches and leaves, and even there it felt uncanny and threatenin'. Those leaves seemed to be whisperin' all round us, and I had a horrible feelin' that they knew we'd come; or that somethin' did, anyway. The upper leaves were very thick and green— they had the air and light, of course—but then, almost at once, only a few feet down, they got fewer and yellower, as if they were sick or in prison. And then we were down among the trunks, with their gnarled, exposed roots, and the earth and stones. If you'd let go of whatever you were holdin' on to, you'd just have gone slidin' straight down.

"As my eyes began to get used to the light I made myself look down, and I could see that where the trees ended—they got fewer, you see, and more spindly, until there weren' any more—there was a kind of ledge—a shelf, not regular but more or less level; I suppose it might have been four or five feet wide, but only here and there. Fornis had got down there already, quick as a cat, and she was waitin' for me. I reached it about twenty yards away from where she was standin'. I stopped a moment to get my breath and then I went along towards her.

"I didn' say anythin': it wasn' time yet. I looked up and there was green light above, comin' through the leaves; it wasn' like the light in an honest, decent wood, but sort of thick and waverin', like light under deep water; and it was all criss-crossed by the branches, like the bars of a cage. We were in a cage—a cage with a ceilin' but no floor.

"Before I reached her I went to the edge and peered over. It was sheer from then on. Only there were projec-tions here and there—spurs of rock and so on. It would be just possible to climb down, if you were crazy. What you'd be goin' down into was nothin'; empty darkness. And the goddess was tellin' me I had to go. There was only me, all alone, against the strength and power of that wicked woman. Oh, banzi—"

Occula was clasped in Maia's arms, shuddering and moaning like a child woken from nightmare. Maia stroked and kissed her, murmuring reassurance, and after a little the black girl went on.

"Fornis was standin' with her hands on her hips, smilin' and lookin' sort of exultant. You could see she was pleased with herself. She was always excited by danger—any sort of demandin' exploit. As I stepped back from the edge she called out 'Occula—'

"And then even she was frozen with horror, and worse than horror: for the moment she spoke it was as if the whole place had been set on fire, leapin' with voices like flames. 'Occula! Occula! Occula!' They weren' ordinary, decent echoes. In fact I doan' believe now that they were echoes at all; and if you'd heard them you'd feel the same. They were voices —of creatures, of bein's about whom we know nothin', through the mercy of the gods. How can I call them evil or mad, when words like goodness and sanity had no more meanin' in that place than they have out beyond the furthest star? Hell isn' people torturin' you, banzi: I know that now. Hell's nothin': hell's not-things takin' the place of things. Silence is a natural thing, and these voices were neither speech nor silence, and that's the only way I can put it. Just to hear them was an agony, and I mean a real agony, like burnin'. They seemed to tear through your head. I fell down, and for all the sense I had left I might have gone over the edge; but I didn'.

"Then Fornis put her hand on my shoulder and shook me; and she stooped and whispered in my ear, not to wake those voices again. She said, 'Do you want to go on, or are you afraid?'

"And still it wasn' time. I wondered how much more the goddess expected I could suffer. I thought, 'Does she want her weapon to break in her hand?'!

"I nodded, but Fornis seemed to be hesitatin', so I went to the edge again and looked down. I had to get her to go on: that was my first task. This time I was tryin' to pick a way of goin' down from one handhold and foothold to the next. As soon as I'd seen what I thought was a possible way—if you could call it that—I jus' caught her eye and then let myself over without a word.

"She was followin' me now: she had to if she was comin', for there was no other way down—not in either direction, as far as you could see. I knew the goddess had put it into her heart that she wasn' goin' to be beaten by me, so it was just a question of whether I could survive long enough. Banzi, I can'—I honestly can' describe to you the terror of climbin' down into that place. It was shiverin'ly cold, and not wet but very smooth, so that everythin' I touched felt slippery—dry and slippery, like a snake's skin. Once a stone I was holdin' pulled out of the sheer face, and I just managed to grab another in time. I needed bare feet. I kicked off my sandals and they fell away, but there was no sound from below to show when they'd reached bottom. And I'll tell you somethin' else. I'd cut my hand, and it was bleedin' green. That's the truth.

"As long as I doan' fall, I thought, it doesn' matter how far down we go: I shall never come back anyway. I was out of my mind by this time, and I felt full of a sort of mad elation, as if I'd drunk a flask full of djebbah. That's why I doan' remember any more. I can' even guess how deep we went: it may not really have been very far—I doan' know. It felt like a mile.

"At last, in a place where you could just see—only there was nothin' to be seen now; not even earth; only the rock— I came to a second ledge, a bit longer than the height of a man and only a foot or two wide. And there, in the rock face, I caught sight of an almost regular, zig-zag crack that looked a bit like the symbol for 'Zai.' So I knew this was the place, and I stood still and waited for Fornis.

"She was down about a minute later. One of her forearms was bleedin' green, too; and her hair was green. She'd been changed, ready for what I had to do. I gave her my hand onto the ledge and we stood there together while she got her breath. Then she whispered, 'I think this is far enough, doan' you?'

" 'Yes, this is far enough,' I answered.

"I pulled her round by the arm to face me and looked into her eyes, and I knew she couldn' look away. But still she wasn' afraid—not yet.

" 'Why are you lookin' at me like that?' she asked. She was angry.

" 'I want to ask you a question,' I said. 'Where did you get the emeralds in the Sacred Queen's crown?'

"She didn' answer, but I could see now that she knew. My question had fallen into her heart as my sandals had dropped into the abyss.

" 'Do you remember the black jewel-merchant who came to Bekla across the Harridan?' I asked her.

"Now she was frightened all right! You wouldn' think it possible, would you? Water could flow uphill: Queen Fornis was frightened.

" 'Do you remember he had a little girl?' I said. 'No, look at me! Do you remember?'

"She shrank back, but I had her by the arm. 'You? I gave orders for your death!' she cried. She was past rememberin' the voices, and the whole frightful place rocked and rang in the dark, 'Death! Death! Death!'

"But I'd been changed, too. Those voices were subject to the goddess, and now she'd possessed me entirely. I'd become like a rock in a flood.

"I was still lookin' steadily into Fornis's eyes. As I raised my right hand she did the same, and we stood opposite each other like that. I stepped forward and drew her knife from the sheath at her belt and she never moved. I offered it to her hilt first, and she stretched out her arm and took it. Yes, she took the knife from me, banzi, jus' like Ka-Roton that night in Kembri's hall; and then, as we still stood face to face, she turned the point round and drove it straight into her own heart.

"The green blood came spurtin' out, and as she sank down on her knees I pointed over the edge. 'Your little boys are waitin',' I said, 'and Durakkon, your friend!' And all the voices howled and clucked and cackled, 'Friend— end—end—end!'

"And at that she fell all along, with her head and shoulders across the edge, and I put my foot against her body and pushed, and she screamed and went over, with her own knife still stickin' in her breast. And then I fainted, because the goddess had left me alone with the voices and the screamin'.

"I must have lain unconscious a long time: I doan' know how long. When I came to myself I was lyin' on the ledge with my arms soaked in Fornis's blood. It was only then I realized how narrow it was. It was barely wide enough to lie down. I doan' know why I hadn' fallen.

"The goddess was gone: I was by myself in the dark. I felt cold, and very hungry and thirsty.

"The reason I can' tell how long I was unconscious is because I doan' even know how long it took me to climb back. That was almost as hard as goin' down had been. I'd finished what the goddess required and she had no more use for me. If I could manage to get myself back, that was my business. She wasn' concerned one way or the other; and I certainly hadn' the gall to pray to her to save me. But as I groped and clutched and panted and clambered I felt Zai's peace in my heart, holdin' me up as often as I had to stop and hang on until enough strength came back into my arms to start pullin' up again.

"The evil and the loneliness were worse than the danger; so bad that once or twice I nearly let go, just to bring it all to an end. I went so slowly: I seemed to be climbin' for hours; but I was climbin' towards the light, and that was what saved me. I could see that greenness filterin' down from above, comin' nearer, and after a long time I began to feel more confident of gettin' out.

"At last I pulled myself back up onto the first ledge again, with the stunted trees just above, and there I stood and prayed and gave thanks to the goddess, not for savin' me but for what was accomplished and ended. I stood prayin' until my heart was emptied of prayer, like drainin' a cup. I'd never prayed like that before.

"When I stepped out into the grass it was late afternoon by the sun and the day was coolin'. I waded out by a different way, and as I left the tall weeds and grass and sank down on the turf—oh, banzi, you can' imagine what that felt like! It wasn't just knowin' you were goin' to live; it was havin' left that place behind—I saw the old priest comin'. He stooped and pulled me to my feet as if I'd been a little girl, and then he tookmeinhisarmswithoutaword.

"I didn' say anythin', either—not for—oh, minutes, I suppose. At last I whispered, 'It's done. Shall I go now?'

"At that he released me and stood back, shakin' his head. We sat down together on the short grass in the beautiful, calm evenin' smellin' of dew and tansy. Seemed as though I'd never seen evenin' before, and the swifts wheelin' and screamin' overhead like blessed spirits. I was cryin'. I said, 'Where are the soldiers?'

" 'Gone,' he answered.

" 'And Ashaktis?'

" 'She is dead.'

"I didn' ask him how. It was nice of him to have tidied up for me.

" 'Zuno?'

" 'He shall stay here with you until—'

"And at that, banzi, I interrupted him. It surprises me now: but I interrupted him because I was frightened. 'You mean I'm to be kept here, sir?' I cried. 'You mean to keep me here?'

"He took my hand again.

" 'My child,' he said very gently, 'you have come alive from the Streels of Urtah, like the Lord Deparioth's own mother. In all the years I have served the Streels this has never happened—no, nor yet in my lifetime, so far as I know. Yet even so, if that were the whole of it, you might perhaps go your way, though I should be sorry, for you would die and you deserve better. But there is more. You have been the instrument of those nameless ones who bring retribution upon crimes beyond mercy or forgiveness: upon those whose lives, continuing defile the very earth. My child, you are deodand. Where you have been and what you have performed have taken you beyond the circle of life.'

" 'I know that,' I said.

" 'If you want to come back; if you want your life to continue and not to be forfeit to the gods, you must undergo purification and the ritual of return. To have come alive from the Streels is to be a livin' phantom, until we have done what is needful for you.'

" 'But will my goddess accept your ritual?' I asked. 'My gods are not yours.'

" 'All gods are the same here,' he said. 'I shall invoke her for you, and she will hear. You need have no fear on that score.'

" 'How long—?' I was beginnin', when he added, 'The rains will begin soon. You are welcome to spend Melekril here with us—you and the young man too.'

"And so I did, banzi. I woan' tell you about all the rites and ceremonies and prayers. I couldn', anyway. They're secret, and I've already told you far more than I ought. It was a long business and a lot of sufferin', for the shock had gone far deeper than ever I realized that evenin'. I stayed all through Melekril, and I found more kindness and peace in that place than anywhere in my life since I left Silver Tedzhek. But when the spring came back—the spring before last—I was as fresh and strong as the leaves, and as ready to return as the kynat.

"One fine mornin' we set out together, Zuno and I. We went east to the high road and traveled back to Bekla with one of the iron caravans comin' in from Gelt. It only took four days."