105: MAIA ANSWERS A QUESTION

"Go on," said Maia, as her friend fell silent. Occula's tale had affected her so deeply that she felt almost as though she herself had been carried into that other world of terror, and now also needed help to recover diurnal reality and mundane things. She wanted—she longed desperately— to hear and chat about living people and their affairs and fortunes. And Occula must need that, too. "Tell me about Bekla. Tell me everything that's happened since I left with Zenka and Anda-Nokomis."

Occula caressed and kissed her, smiling. Her happiness at being once more in Maia's company—at being able actually to see and touch her—was evident enough.

"Homesick, eh?" To all appearances she had resumed her old self, her terrible story cast aside like a black cloak from a brightly-colored robe. But certainly Maia—who if not she?—could sense that this was partly acting; nevertheless it was acting which, given the right response, would soon become reality.

"P'raps. Little bit. Go on, Occula!"

"Well, what shall I tell you?" said the black girl, reaching across for the Yeldashay. "When we got back we found a whole lot had happened. To begin with, Santil had taken Bekla—that was just after the rains began—and Kembri was dead. The way it all came about was like this. Elleroth was forcin' his way up through Purn, and he'd been joined by the Ortelgans—oh, yes, well, of course you know that: I ought to say you did that, oughtn' I? Apparently they only jus' managed to cut through Purn before the rains. What Elleroth wanted was to seize the bridge over the Zhairgen—the road to Ikat—if he could, and cut Kembri off from Bekla. Well, apart from the rains, which put a lot of his men down with fever—"

"Ah!" said Maia. "A few hours of it was enough for me. I was took real bad."

"I'm not surprised. Well, seems Elleroth and Ta-Kom-inion only had about four hundred men between them by the time they actually got to the road. But then they were joined by young Seekron and Mendel-el-Ekna, who were tryin' to get Randronoth's lads back to Lapan after failin' to take Bekla. And that lot, all together, were too much for the men Kembri had left at the bridge. They surrendered to Elleroth.

"Santil had marched north out of Ikat with the idea of attackin' Kembri in Lapan. When he started, he didn' feel there was really much hope of beatin' Kembri and gettin' to Bekla before the rains—he's told me as much himself, actually. Still, he thought he ought at least to try and attack the Chalcon army again as soon as possible, and not just sit around doin' nothin' while Kembri pulled them together. But what actually happened was that with Santil in front of them and Elleroth and the Lapanese behind, they mutinied. There was a commander called Kapparah." Occula grinned. "I've been to bed with him, actually. A real, hardened campaigner if ever there was one."

"I remember Shenda talking about him," said Maia. "He was the one as did so well in the battle on the road, wasn't he?"

"That's the fellow. Well, he led the mutiny. He said that with half a dozen different factions fightin' all over the empire and the whole place in chaos we'd have King Karnat down on us any day—obviously he must know very well what was goin' on—and the time had come to put a stop to it. They killed Kembri, of course; cut him down outside his own tent and sent his head to Santil. I can' honestly say I felt sorry.

"So then Santil joined them and took over the command, and they marched fifty miles to Bekla in the rains— leastways, the ones who got there did. Elleroth wasn' with them, though. Seems he'd got badly cut up in a skirmish. One of his officers, a man called Mollo, saved his life and took him home to Sarkid. D'you know, I've never met Elleroth to this day? I often wish I had. I fancy the sound of him. He's quite a lad, by all accounts."

"Ah, he is that," said Maia. "I liked him very much. I don't think he'd be one to bounce you, though, somehow."

"Oh, no?" said Occula. "Want to bet? He might get the chance yet, you never know. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, Santil takin' Bekla. Well, there were plenty of high-up people in the upper city who managed to change sides quite successfully. Santil's a merciful man, you know. In fact, I'd say a very merciful man indeed, as I'll tell you in a minute. But the real genius behind the side-changin' lark was Shenda. It made his fortune—and mine too, I s'pose, really. For that's how I come to be here now, my dear, drinkin' this bowl of Yeldashay."

"Shenda?" said Maia. "But you were saying just now as Han-Glat was holding Bekla, after he'd got rid of Fomis."

"Yes, well, but this was where Shenda came in. You remember, of course, that Shenda was wounded and stayed in Bekla after he'd come back with Elvair. I told you how he came up from the temple that night to give Fornis the chief priest's message. I've often thought it's wonderful how the most unexpected people sometimes rise to an occasion—especially when somethin' has to be done and there's no one else to do it. Those last few days before the rains, that boy really got busy. You could say he revealed a real flair for diplomacy. Well, but he's a likable lad, isn' he? He talks straight and plain, he always seems cheerful and he's got a knack of makin' people think he's not as clever as they are but all the same he's honest; so they find themselves supposin' they've thought up all by themselves what he wanted them to think but never said in so many words. I've seen him do it again and again now.

"Anyway, Shenda told Han-Glat that he wanted to go up to the citadel to see his father (his father was the castellan, you remember), and Han-Glat said all right. So off goes Shenda like a dutiful son, but when he got there he talked to Eud-Ecachlon. He told him straight out that he thought tryin' to hold the place for Kembri had become a hopeless business. Shenda said why didn' he surrender to Han-Glat and accept a safe-conduct to go home to Kendron-Urtah and succeed his father as High Baron, which was what the gods had always meant him to do?

"Well, poor old Eud-Ecachlon never was very bright, was he? I reckon he could have asked fifty thousand meld for handin' over that citadel to Han-Glat. I would have. I mean, it's quite impregnable, it was victualled for about a year and he could have held it against Santil and Han-Glat put together if he'd wanted. But anyway, he didn'. Probably he just wanted to get back home as soon as he could. Shenda got him to agree to come and talk to Han-Glat.

"Well, so then Shenda goes back to Han-Glat, if you please, and they talked for hours. Shenda pointed out that Sendekar was comin' from one direction and Santil from another and surely the best thing Han-Glat could do was to drive a bargain while he still had time—I mean, while he still had Bekla to bargain with. Han-Glat could see the sense of that all right. Apart from anythin' else, he had himself to bargain with, you see. Han-Glat's an engineerin' genius: there's no one to touch him in the whole empire. Bridges, roads, fortifications—you let him alone for those. That fortress at Dari—it's a bastin' miracle! I saw it for the first time a week ago. Any commander who passed up the chance of gettin' Han-Glat as an officer of works would be crazy.

"So the long and short of it was that Shenda made Han-Glat think that he himself had decided which side his bread was buttered; and he sent out envoys to Sendekar and Santil and said he'd hand over the city and the citadel in return for a high command for himself and no revenge or executions against the remainin' Leopards. Well, they both accepted that quick enough. I mean, the alternative was for Han-Glat to sit comfortably in Bekla through the rains, while they didn'. He's Santil's director of fortifications now: rich and powerful, and everybody's happy.

"So most people managed to sit the thing out quite comfortably. They always do, of course. Well, apart from anythin' else, a city like Bekla's got to be run by people who know it and know how to keep law and order. Santit just took them over, and he's rulin' very well. Everybody likes him. What Shenda's here for now—when he gets to Terekenalt, I mean—is to try to negotiate the return of Suba to the Beklan Empire. Lenkrit's joinin' us in Terekenalt to talk to the new king. I think it'll go well, myself."

"But you were saying something about Santil being a very merciful man indeed," said Maia. "What was all that about, then?"

"Oh, yes, banzi; to be sure! Your friend Elvair-ka-Virrion—"

"Oh, what about him?" said Maia, with a quick shudder. She had not forgotten her last meeting with Elvair at the Barons' Palace.

"Well, of course, if there was one man Santil was in honor bound to destroy it was Elvair. As you remember, when Sencho was killed Elvair took poor Milvushina, who'd been betrothed to Santil, and refused to return her. It was common knowledge that he and Kembri meant to make her Sacred Queen if Elvair had beaten Santil. And they'd have done away with you, banzi, doan' you make any mistake about that. Oh, yes, they would!"

"I don't believe Elvair would ever have agreed to harm me," said Maia hotly. "I don't care what anyone says—"

"All right, all right, banzi! Calm down! Anyway, if you' were his friend, one thing's certain: after you left Bekla he hadn' another left in the world, unless perhaps it was Shenda. He was disgraced and ruined beyond all hope of recovery, and he knew it. Well, he'd gone mad, good as, hadn' he? But d'you know who came forward and said she'd always loved him? Who was ready to put herself in danger and plead for him and stick by him? Have a guess!"

Maia pondered. "I've no idea. Never Otavis, surely?"

"Oh, Cran, no! Otavis—she'd much better fish to fry. Give it up? Sessendris!"

"Sessendris?" said Maia, astonished. "Well, who'd ever 'a thought it? What happened, then?"

"The way I see it's like this," said the black girl. "You remember Sessendris was Kembri's säiyett? Well, Kem-bri's household was gone, of course, and all he'd possessed was forfeit, wasn' it? Sessendris had to think what she was goin' to do. Mind you, I always liked her—a nice woman. I mean, if only we'd had her at old Sencho's instead of that bastin' Terebinthia, things'd have been very different, wouldn' they? I think she was speakin' no more than the truth when she said she'd always been very fond of Elvair. Anyway, she showed it now: either that or else she took a tremendous gamble to save somethin' for herself out of the wreck of Kembri's household. She went to Santil and begged for Elvair's life, and he actually agreed to spare him—I dare say he thought he was hardly worth killin', he was held in such contempt by everyone—provided she took him away somewhere, to the back of beyond.

"And so she did. They raised enough money between them to buy an estate somewhere up by Kabin, and there they are now, as far as I know."

"Well, I hope they're happy, that's all I've got to say," said Maia. "I always liked Elvair. He was ever so nice to me, and just because he couldn't do that silly fighting—"

"And told everyone he could, and led hundreds of lads to their death," said Occula. "Still, we woan' argue about that, my precious banzi. I'll tell you about another man who's got a nice estate nowadays—Zirek. Santil gave him Enka-Mordet's estate in Chalcon."

"He never!"

"He did. Well, there were no next-of-kin left to inherit, you see, and it needed someone to step in and take over before it all went to pieces. Zirek's married to a Chalcon girl and doin' very nicely, apparently. I can' quite see him runnin' an estate, somehow, can you? But apparently he's thrivin'. He sent me a message—by a pedlar, if you please— sayin' wouldn' I go down there and stay with them? Well, p'raps I will one day, who knows?"

"But what happened when you got back to Bekla?" asked Maia. "To yourself, I mean? Do tell me."

"Oh, to me? Well, it was a bit like you comin' back from the Valderra, only not quite so spectacular, of course. No one knew exactly what had happened, you see. A few people know the name 'Streels'—though it's very unlucky to utter it—but no one really knows what they are, or what happens there. That's why I made you swear, banzi; and I strongly advise you never to break that oath, for your own sake."

"I shan't," said Maia. "Don't worry!"

"Well, anyway: they didn' know what had happened, but they knew I'd put paid to Fornis single-handed, because Zuno told them—that and no more. Santil sent for me and more or less offered me whatever I wanted, within reason. I said all I wanted were Zai's jewels that Fornis had stolen. The rest I'd do on my own. He gladly gave me all the jewels, every one of them"—Occula touched for a moment the great emerald at her throat—"and then he said that of course I must have a house of my own in the upper city. Well, when I got to thinkin' about it I didn' see why I shouldn'. After all, N'Kasit had got one—and very well-deserved, too, everybody said. Fordil, too, by the way."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" cried Maia. "He was the best of the lot, was old Fordil! If anyone ever deserved honor and glory it was him!"

"Oh, they come from all over everywhere these days, and pay him thousands to teach them; and he plays for the Thlela, of course. Anyway, Santil did give me a house, and whose d'you think it was? Whose?"

"Never mine?"

Oecuja nodded, smiling. Maia looked at her with tears in her eyes, but whether of joy or sorrow even she herself could not have told.

"You doan' mind, banzi, do you?" asked Occula, with a touch of anxiety.

Maia shook her head. "Does the pantry door still stick? Ogma never could remember to get it fixed. Used to drive me wild, that it did."

"Probably. But tell you the truth, I only lived there until the beginnin' of last Melekril. That was when I joined Shenda and gave up bein' a shearna. We'd both made fortunes, anyway, you see. We're livin' in what used to be Sencho's house: that's a laugh, isn' it? I've changed it completely, of course. You'd hardly recognize it if you went back."

"Oh, do tell me! Every last thing!"

Occula did so, at length and in detail. "Kantza-Merada was still in our old place under the floorboard in the bedroom where we hid her that night—the night of the killin'. Remember?"

Maia nodded. "I'm so glad no one else found her!"

"And I've got Lokris as my säiyett, although, as I said, it's Zuno who really runs the place—specially when we're not there. Only Shenda's been travelin' all over the empire this summer, you see—wherever Santil wants any bargainin' or mediatin' done. I rather enjoy it."

"I should just about think you would!" said Maia, recalling the triumphant figure riding through the streets that afternoon. "But what about our friends the shearnas, Occula? Do give my love to Nennaunir, won't you? She was always such a good friend to me."

" 'Course I will. She'll be delighted to hear I've seen you again. Well, she's given up bein' a shearna, too, >'cos she married Sednil, you know."

"I always hoped she would. Are they all right?"

"Oh, rather! It was really all along of that four thousand meld you gave the boy for findin' out where your Zen-Kurel had got to. D'you know what he did? He bought himself a share in Sarget's wine business, apd he's never looked back. He's prosperin'."

"Oh, that's just about fine, isn't it? But you mean Sarget really took him—a branded man?"

"Nan told Sarget how unfairly he'd come by the brand: and Sarget said any friend of yours was a friend of his. So you see, banzi, you've gone on doin' good even in your absence. Oh, yes, and that reminds me! Sarget's married Dyphna! What d'you think of that?"

"Dyphna? But Sarget was quite okl—all of forty and more, I reckon! I thought he'd never marry anyone."

"Come right down to it, I think it was the music. Dyphna's got a real feelin' for that, of course. And besides, she's so accomplished and sort of—well, impressive, isn' she? She always put on such a stately sort of act—not like us bouncy girls—you and me, I mean. I think Sarget had come to feel he needed someone classy to match the style of his establishment and do the honors. And I must say she does it very well. Otavis is still in business, though. By Airtha, she's goin' to end up really rich, that girl! She seems to get more beautiful everyday. Theyfairlyfightforher."

"I remember the Belishbans tossing her in a blanket at the barrarz. But Occula, do you know anything about dear old Brero, as used to pull my jekzha? He was always such a good friend."

"You mean senior tryzatt Brero, of the Beklan regiment? Well, do you know, banzi, I never even knew he'd been one of yours! That's because I was shut up in Fornis's house all those months, of course. Never really knew what was goin' on at all; well, only bits here an' there. Everyone who ever made a friend of you ended up lucky, didn'they ?"

Suddenly the door opened and Shend-Lador, magnificently dressed in a gold veltron with a scarlet cloak, came into the room, started to speak to Occula and stopped dead at the sight of Maia.

"Maia! Great Cran, wherever have you sprung from?"

They embraced, Shend-Lador laughing delightedly. He kissed Maia again and again, warmly admired the sleeping Zen-Otal and then inquired after Zen-Kurel (whom he had never met). When he had refilled the goblets and sat down, Maia was obliged to tell her story all over again.

"Poor MerisP'.said Shend-Lador, when she had finished. "But I'm not really surprised. And you say Terebinthia took sixteen thousand meld off you for the boat?"

"Yes, she did. After that I hardly had, anything left, 'cept for my diamonds. But there's no point in getting her into trouble now, Shenda. It's all done and over with."

"Oh, no, Santil wouldn't want to get her into trouble, certainly. But she always was a daylight robber robbing in daylight, and I think it would do her a world of good to have a taste of her own medicine and have to give you back the difference between that and a fair price. What would you say the boat was really worth?"

Maia considered.

"Well, it was a good boat, Shenda. Fact, I'd go so far as to say it was a very good boat. It saved our lives. But it wasn't worth more than eight thousand at the very outside."

Shend-Lador nodded. "Where is your estate—Zen-Ku-rd's estate? Somewhere up towards the Blue Forest, isn't it?"

Maia told him.

"I'll see you're sent eight thousand meld within the next two months. We won't do anything to Terebinthia, though, so don't worry."

"Eight thousand meld! For me? Oh, Shenda, you are good! Thank you so much! I am grateful!" She kissed him again.

"Sounds as though you could do with it, banzi," said Occula drily.

"Well, 'course I can! What d'you think?"

"What do I think? What do I think?" Occula looked Maia very straight in the eye. "I think, 'Banzi, why doan' you come back?' "

Maia started, looking quickly round at Shend-Lador, who nodded, smiling.

"Come back? Why, whatever d'you mean?"

Occula had risen to her feet and was standing with outspread arms. "Bekla's not the same without you, that's what I mean. I'm not the same without you! Lucky, golden Maia! We all miss you; the gods' sweetheart! Your name's still a legend in Bekla and it always will be. They still drink to you and sing songs about you. The Thlela have created one of their sacred dances about your deeds and adventures: did you know that? The best thing that could happen to you and to Bekla would be for you to come back to the city you saved—the city you conquered—the city that's yours by right of the gods!"

Maia stared at her speechlessly. Tears were standing in Occula's eyes.

"Banzi, you doan' look all that well off. D'you think I can't price those clothes you're wearin'—the best clothes you've come up to Keril in? And you're obviously as happy as any steward's wife to be promised eight thousand meld-not that that isn't quite a slice, I'll admit. But the Serrelinda! The sacred luck of the city! A small baron's wife in up-country Katria! You'll end up dull as a cow in afield."

"Why, someone else said that to me once!" said Maia: but she did not say who.

"Is that where you want to live out your life and grow old? Your hands—they look like they did when I first met you in the slave depot at Puhra; when I beat up that bastard Genshed for you. You work along with your women, I'll bet, and more credit to you! But oh, banzi, what a waste! What a terrible waste!"

Still Maia said nothing.

"You could bring your baby, banzi. 'Course you could! And your husband—he was one of Karnat's personal officers, wasn't he? Santil would give him an honorable command and a house in the upper city. He'd be glad to have a man like that. Why doan' you come back?"

Maia took her hands. Every word had sunk into her heart. She recalled Selperron (whose name she had never known) filling her golden jekzha with flowers. She recalled the people cheering, the young armorers jostling for the privilege of helping to pull her up the hill to the Peacock Gate. She saw in her mind's eye the guests crowding forward at the barrarz, and heard again the sound of Fordil's leks and zhuas as she began the senguela in the Barons' Palace. She heard Elvair, yes and Randronoth, crying out So ecstasy in her arms. She saw the Barb glittering in the summer morning and heard the gongs of the clocks as Ogma prepared her scented bath. She saw, too, her timber manor house in Katria and heard the hands calling to one another in their guttural Chistol as they dispersed after the day's work and Zenka came in to supper.

She put her arms round Occula's neck and kissed her. "Dearest, shall I tell you the truth—the real truth? I honestly and sincerely don't want to come back. It's not the baby, and it's not thinking what Zenka would want. It's truthfully what I want, for my own life. I want to stay as I am. I love it. But don't ask me to explain, 'cos I don't understand myself. Ask Lespa!"

She looked out the window at the sky. "It's late. I'll have to be getting back, dearest. Oh, I have enjoyed it so much! Dear, dear Occula! Cran bless and keep you both! I'll be round early tomorrow to see you again before you leave for Terekenalt."

She picked up Zen-Otal, who stirred, whimpered a mo-ment and then went back to sleep. Occula and Shend-Lador walked downstairs with her, chatting at the door while Florro had the jekzha brought round. In the spring night the town was very quiet. A dog barked, a watchman called from some way off. Maia, gazing up at the clear stars, was already thinking pleasurably of her return home, and of how Zen-Kurel was sure to be looking out for her and would run down to meet her in the lane beside the stream.