Maia (84 page)

He was gone, leaving her, thus put out of countenance, to cover her embarrassment by conversing with the priest. They returned along the corridors and down the staircase.

Arrived in the principal interior court below, where numerous suppliants, priests and servants were coming and going about their business, she had just contrived some

remark about the swallows flitting in and out under the cornice when suddenly she caught sight of Sednil emerging-in a furtive manner, or so it seemed-from a doorway opposite. He was stooping under a great pannier strapped to his back, which appeared to be full of masons' rubble or something of the sort. It was, in fact, a few moments before she recognized him, but in those moments he had nevertheless already attracted her attention by reason of being easily the dirtiest and most wretched-looking person in the whole court. Indeed, it was rather startling to come upon such an object even casually present in a beautiful and imposing place designed and used expressly to confer credit on the city.

Maia, inclining graciously towards the priest as an indication of thanks and farewell, walked swiftly across the court and touched Sednil on the shoulder. Starting and jerking up his head, he plainly did not remember her for a moment. Then, uncertainly, and plainly not in the least knowing what he might have to expect, he said, "Maia! Well-of course I'd heard-" but on the instant broke off, turning away. She had the impression that if it had not been for the heavy basket he would have shrugged his shoulders.

"Sednil, listen; I want to help you-"

"O Cran!" he said. "Don't
you
start, too-"

"I mean it-"

"-Like Nan and all the rest. Why can't you let me alone?" Yet he made no further move to go.

As she hesitated he said, "I can't stop about here. You'll get me into-"

"Sednil, I must know; where's Occula? Tell me, quickly. Is she still here or not?"

"What's it to you?"

"Oh, Sednil! You want money? Aren't I your friend-"

He gave a quick, bitter laugh and seemed about to reply, but she cut him short.

"At least tell me if you know she's dead. Please!"

"I don't know she's dead."

"Then do you know she's alive?"

As though finally maddened by her insistence-f or she had him by the arm, and under the weight of the basket he could

not break free-he burst out, "She was taken away by the queen's woman-the Palteshi woman. Now will you-"

"When? The same day as I was brought here?"

"No, the day after: the chief priest didn't want-"

At this moment a burly, scowling man in a sacking apron came hurrying out of the doorway near which they were standing, caught sight of Sednil and immediately dealt him a swinging buffet on the side of the head.

"What the hell d'you think you're doing? You know damned well you're not supposed to carry that stuff across this court, don't you? You lot go round the back, where you can't be seen. Just because that's heavy-next time I'll have you whipped-"

Maia, who had never been in a position of authority in her life, had in the first instant felt more cowed and caught in the wrong than Sednil, who looked about as startled as an ox by the all-too-familiar blows of its peasant master. Now, however, like someone suddenly remembering that she has unaccustomed money in her purse and therefore need no longer stand hungry outside the cookshop, she sprang into action. Looking the overseer-or whatever he was-straight in the eye,shesaidfirmly,"Itwasmeascalledtheman:Iwantedto speak to him."

The overseer looked at her in surprise. The intervention of a priest or a noble being within his comprehension, he would have known his proper response, but girls who looked like demi-goddesses, clad in authority and diamonds, had not come his way before. After a few seconds he opened his mouth to reply, but had got no further than "Saiyett-" when Maia stayed him with an uplifted hand. "Please don't trouble yourself further; I shan't keep him a moment. You may leave us now."

She turned back to Sednil. "Then you think she's still with the queen?"

"Yes. Without she's dead she is."

There was a cough at her elbow: she turned to see the priest who had accompanied her down the staircase.

"Er-saiyett-I wonder whether I may perhaps-"

"Well," said Maia to Sednil, "that's what Nennaunir asked me to tell you! And to give you this, with her love."

Thereupon, very deliberately and taking her time, she took out a hundred-meld piece, pressed it into Sednil's hand, put her arms round his neck, kissed both his dirty cheeks and then walked slowly out of the temple.

"Oh, it makes me that
wildl"
she exclaimed to her soldier, Brero: but when he asked her what, she merely replied "Don't matter," and said no more.

It was during this return journey from the temple that she encountered Selperron and received his gift of flowers. When he first stopped her jekzha she thought, for a split second, that he was an assassin. She recovered herself instantly, but did not altogether forget the moment.

Lying awake before the birds began to sing, listening to the tiny sounds of darkness and feeling the now-familiar throbbing along her half-healed thigh, Maia considered her next step. Obviously, the chief priest must by now have learned that she had spoken with Sednil and what about. No doubt they had had the hundred meld off him too: that would not surprise her in the least.

The unnatural complexity and imponderable danger of her situation enraged as much as it frightened her. Why should she be frustrated in a matter which was entirely innocent and natural? Surely to Cran it ought to be understandable-acceptable at face value-that she should want to know the whereabouts of her greatest friend? Yet evidently it was not; and she had now given the suspicious priests something to fasten on and wonder about. Why exactly might the Tonildan girl be so anxious to get in touch with Sencho's black concubine? Simply because she had been fond of her-well, that might perhaps be all there was to it, and then again it might not. Maia, they knew, had herself spent a night with the queen-after which the queen had immediately sent for Occula. She had no idea of the relations between Fornis and the chief priest. To what extent did they confide in each other? Were they united in distrust of Kembri, or did they fear each other? Did the chief priest know anything about Fornis's private pleasures? Would he tell Fornis that she had been inquiring about Occula? If so, what would Fornis do? These inconclusive reflections, in the half-darkness and solitude before dawn, were enough to frighten any girl.

But if she gave up searching for Occula, what self-respect could she have left? It was not only that she herself needed

Occula and could not bear the thought of continuing her life without at least finding out what had happened to her. Occula, if she was still alive, might quite possibly stand in need of her help. At the very least she had a duty to the gods and to all the sacred obligations of friendship to discover whether Occula was still alive. But how?

Suddenly there came into her head the recollection of Zuno, bowing at the doorway of the queen's supper-room and finding himself confronted by the girl whom he had compelled to trudge seven miles from Naksh in the heat of the day. Zuno owed his present position to Occula, and if anyone in all Bekla had reason to know that the two of them were bosom friends, it was surely he. "You never know when he might not be able to do us a bit of good," Occula had said. It was like one of old Drigga's tales, she thought. All those weeks ago, in Sencho's house, Occula had, in effect, given her a key to keep and told her that one day she would come upon the door it would open. But Occula-why, yes,
just
like a tale!-had had no idea that it would turn out to be a door behind which she herself was imprisoned.

Maia, like virtually everyone in the Beklan Empire, thought naturally and unconsciously of the world as a kind of divine machine (rather like the Tamarrik Gate) working in conformity with fixed, recurring accordances, correlations and principles. Some of these were, of course, self-evident-as that unusually large flocks of crows presaged ill-fortune, or that conception was more likely when love was made under the full moon. Others, however, were riddling and enigmatic, their homeopathic connections hard to discern; in some cases impossible without personal revelation through the favor of a god. In the old tales-and they, of course, were plainly the revealed truth of the gods, or why else could they have held good age after age?-no deed or occurrence, however apparently casual or improbable of consequence, was without its unforeseen fruition, good or bad. These, old Drigga had explained, were often ironic jokes on the part of the gods at the expense of mortals who had not the common sense or humility to keep their eyes and ears open to divine tidings. Here, obviously, was a clear instance. The real reason why Occula had been prompted to get Zuno his place was that the gods had known that one day the deed would yield advantage. It followed that Occula must still be alive and

that she, Maia, was fated to find her. Greatly comforted by her intelligent arrival at this perception, Maia fell asleep again; and later that morning, after breakfast and a bath, sent Jarvil down to the lower city with a message to the slave-dealer Lalloc that she wished to see him on business as soon as possible. Whether or not Lalloc was in the city she had no idea. For all she knew, he might be anywhere from Herl to Kabin, buying stock or engaging fresh agents. Logically, however-that was, in accordance with the supernatural design perceived by her-he was bound to be on hand; and so it proved. The slave-dealer, dressed and be-jewelled in the florid style she remembered but now, many eventful months later, saw plainly (as she had not before) to be so tawdry and garish as to proclaim him the cheapest of imitation Leopards, presented himself in her parlor early that evening.

Maia, simply dressed in a gray Yeldashay metlan with crimson sandals and a gold chain at her neck, received him smilingly and with a careful avoidance of any condescension or superiority. The evening being warm and cloudless, she took him out to sit on the miniature terrace overlooking the Barb, where Ogma brought sweet wine, honey cakes and the little, sticky jellies called
prions,
which came up from Ikat. She had reckoned this sort of thing would probably be to Lalloc's taste and so it evidently proved, for he partook copiously, while giving every sign of feeling that much of the credit for her new standing was attributable to himself.

"Well," he said, after admiring the house and inquiring about her health in a manner so superficial and perfunctory that from any person of breeding it would have been insulting, "so you don't minding doing business, eh, with the man who once soil you?"

"Not in the least, U-Lalloc," answered Maia. "You've never done me any harm as I know of."

"Well, well," said Lalloc, rubbing his hands together so that the rings clicked on his fingers, "I nower harm any of my girls, thot's it. Nower treat anyone bad. Where's the sense; 'cos you nower know where they going to fon-nish up, eh? Now you fonnish up queen of Bekla and we're still good friends, isn't it?"

"I'm not the queen of Bekla, U-Lalloc," said Maia quickly. "I'll thank you to remember that, and not use that kind of talk where I'm concerned, either here or any-

where else. I don't reckon as Queen Fornis'd like it, do you?"

"No, no, of course, jost my joke," replied the slave-dealer, putting his feet up on a stool and helping himself to another handful of prions. "But oil the same, now you're big, important lady-most important ower come from me, I toll you-"

Maia cut him short. "U-Lalloc, I need another good, reliable girl in the house-someone strong, but young enough to be ready to do what Ogma tells her; and I need a man as can help the porter, too."

"Ah, no trobble, saiyett. There's plonty coming in jost now, this time of year. Perhaps you like to comming down tomorrow, see as monny what you like. Or I bring one or two up here-whatever you like. How moch you want to spend, saiyett? Woll, I jost bring up the best, thot's it, eh?"

They talked on for a time, Maia half-serious and asking such questions as occurred to her; for after all, she might in all earnest enlarge her establishment-she could well afford it.

"Well, that's quite satisfactory, U-Lalloc," she said at length, standing up and leaning over the balustrade. "I'll think it over-what you've told me-and let you know. I'm obliged to you for coming up here so promptly. By the way, how's that young man of yours as brought me and my friend up from Hirdo last year? Is he still with you?"

It would be better, she had decided, not to reveal to Lalloc that she knew what had become of Zuno. The less that people-especially people like him-thought she knew about Fornis's household the better.

Lalloc began telling her effusively-again, one would have supposed that it reflected credit upon himself-about Zuno's advancement to the post of personal steward to the Sacred Queen, contriving to suggest that the position was that of a state official rather than a servant. Having let him talk on for a time she said, "Well, I'm sorry he's left your service, U-Lalloc, 'cause now things are going so well with me, I'd have liked to meet him again. He was-" it cost her an effort, but she got it out-"he was good to us on the way up to Bekla, and I'd have liked to give him a little token of esteem."

"Well, that's kind of dofficult, saiyett," replied Lalloc.

"The Sacred Queen-she keep her personal household very private, yoss, yoss."

"Still, I suppose you might sometimes have occasion to go there, U-Lalloc, on business-"

"Ollways when I'm going it's at night, saiyett-"

Yes, thought Maia, with those poor little boys, I'll bet. I wonder how many she's got through in seven years? She said casually, "Well, I s'pose at that rate you can go there without anyone being all that much surprised to see you. So I could just go along with you and see Zuno, couldn't I? No one else need know it's me, of course, 'ceptin' Zuno himself."

Before he could answer she went on, "I'll have to leave you now, U-Lalloc, just for a minute or two: I'll be back directly. While I'm gone you can be having a look at this pretty little carved box. You'll appreciate the workmanship. It's from Sarkid, or so I was told."

She had put eight hundred meld in the box. Probably twice as much as she need have, she thought irritably, taking care to make plenty of noise over going upstairs and calling to Ogma. But hadn't Occula herself once advised, "Always bribe too much, banzi: the gaols are full of people who've offered too little."

The moment she came back to the terrace and before he could speak, she said "Please keep the box, U-Lalloc, as a gift from me. As to the other matter we were talking about, I'll meet you on the shore-just down there, see?- tomorrow night, about an hour after sunset. No one will be able to recognize me, don't worry. I'm sorry I can't stay any longer now." And with this, turning away, she called, "Ogma, will you please show U-Lalloc to the gate and tell Jarvil to get him a jekzha?"

Cran and Airtha! she thought; what have I done? The chief priest knows I've been questioning Sednil; and now this man can say I bribed him to get into the queen's house and see Zuno. What if it all gets back to the queen? Ah, no, but it's fated, else the gods wouldn't have put Zuno there in the first place. Come to think of it, it'd probably be a deal more dangerous to
disregard
a favor like that from the gods.

There was no moon and only the lightest of breezes stirred the surface of the Barb lapping against its grassy

banks in the dark. The night was so still that Maia, pacing back and forth among the flowering shrubs and clumps of lilies, could hear the faint plashing of the Monju outfall, almost a furlong away beyond the trees. Already-or so it seemed-she had been waiting much longer than she had expected. Perhaps something had happened to prevent the slave-dealer from keeping their appointment? Well, but in that case would he not at least have let Ogma know as much?

The stars were clear, yet Maia, in the solitude, was suddenly overcome by foreboding and dread. Not far away shone the lamps of other houses; the houses of the wealthy, the powerful-yes, and the cunning and ruthless. There came back to her the memory of how once, when she was a little girl delirious with fever, she had lain and watched the walls of the hut ripple, melt and dissolve into smiles- expanses of horrible, silent smiles, merging and reopening until she could bear it no longer and started up in screaming terror. "The heroine of the empire" Durakkon had called her, himself placing round her neck those diamonds, worth more than all the money her father and mother had ever made in their lives. And the retinue of courtiers and officers attending him-oh, how they had smiled and smiled!

Zenka, she thought; Zenka who had made her laugh with delight like a child at a fair, who had taken her with him-the only man who ever had-into a world of joyous, mutual understanding, his love-making the natural expression of his feeling, his delight in her company and his longing to please and protect her. What would she not give to have him standing beside her now and to feel his arm round her waist? O Lespa! she thought, if only I knew Occula was safe, I'd set out barefoot for the Valderra tomorrow and find him, wherever he is. And Nasada-if only I could just find that good old, straight-talking Nasada, he'd know what to do! Ah, to have to go all the way to the Suban marshes to find a man you can trust to tell you the truth!

She heard the sound of a cough, and turned quickly to recognize the bulky outline of the slave-dealer in the dark.

"U-Lalloc?"

"Oh, yoss, little saiyett, you think I'm not comming? No, I wouldn't let onnything going wrong, you don't hov to worry!"

His voice held a kind of jocular, conspiratorial famil-

iarity which she found unpleasant. This was the kind of company, she thought bitterly, which she was now compelled to seek, simply to gain the innocent end of finding her Occula. She wondered how often he arranged clandestine matters of one kind or another in return for money. What grimy tunnel was this along which she was being obliged to creep towards her friend; and to what extent had she put herself in this man's power? Well, either I'll soon have an old head on young shoulders, she thought, or else no head at all.

She still had little idea whereabouts, among the lawns and gardens of the upper city, the Sacred Queen's house might lie. She had last come to it in a state of sleepless exhaustion, and when leaving next day had been in no mood to look about her. She was surprised, therefore, after they had been walking for what seemed less than a quarter of an hour-during which they had met very few passers-by-when the slave-dealer, stopping at the corner of a walled lane, turned to her.

"You put this cloak on now-pull up the hood, yoss, thot's right. You're a girl I'm bringing to soil-no one to see, I'm saying only Zuno ask I bring you for the queen, all right? Then later you're not there, the rest jost think you don't suit, thot's it."

After a minute or two, as she walked on beside him up the lane, he suddenly said, "Genshed; this man in Puhra; he treat you bad?"