Maia (97 page)

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Authors: Richard Adams

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic, #Non-Classifiable, #Erotica

BOOK: Maia
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come on purpose to help Bekla! Maia, come up here, beside me!" He stretched out his hands. "Here she is! The bravest and most beautiful girl in the empire!"

Maia, having taken his hands, was jumped up onto the table. Elvair-ka-Virrion stood her in the brightest patch of lamplight.

"Maia isn't a shearna, although there must be hundreds of people who wish she was. She doesn't
need
to be a shearna, because the Council have voted her the income she deserves for saving us all!"

At this the cheering broke out in an even more heartfelt tone. Maia's dance had already delighted everyone, but now that they had been reminded of her heroism and saw her, as it were, displayed before them as a living epitome of the beauty and desirability of womanhood, it was as though fresh admiration came gushing spontaneously from depths of feeling hitherto unplumbed.

"So!" shouted Elvair-ka-Virrion above the uproar. "So- you must all have thought that this beautiful girl was as far beyond you as Lespa.
But,
entirely out of her love and devotion to the city, she herself has decided otherwise."

Now there was silence; or the nearest thing to silence with which he had been heard so far. One or two people even called impatiently to others to stop talking, and a slave who was clattering some dishes was hustled out of the hall by the steward.

"I'm not saying the Council's stinted us for money," said Elvair-ka-Virrion. "They haven't. And I'm certainly not saying that this expedition of ours is ill-found. It's not. But any little jaunt of this kind can always do with more money, if only to provide for emergencies. And that's what's coming our way now, thanks to this splendid girl.

"We're all soldiers here, so I'll be plain; and that'll save time, for which some lucky devil's going to be grateful, as you'll realize in a minute. Maia's told me that she'll spend the night-and she's particularly asked me to say that she'll spend it warmly and generously-with whichever one of you puts up the most money for our expedition. In other words, the favors of Maia Serrelinda-which will probably never be availabl; to any of you again, since she's not a shearna and isn't planning to become one-are up for auction tonight, and tonight only; and she's assured me that she's not going to keep one meld of it for herself."

Taking Maia's hand, he raised her arm over her head.

Then, above the fresh outburst of excitement spreading through the hall, he called out, "Come on, then! Where's my first bid?"

This was the moment which Maia had been awaiting with some misgiving. From the first she had wondered whether Elvair-ka-Virrion's plan would work, and only her determination to save Tharrin at all costs had induced her to agree to it. It was not that she doubted the effect of her own beauty. This she had now come to accept, just as a champion athlete or wrestler must, if his daily life and dealings with other people are to make any sort of sense, realize and acknowledge that in this respect he is above the rest and that from the public point of view that is his
raison d'etre.
When necessary she could-at all events to friends like Milvushina or Nennaunir-speak of it without self-consciousness; and she had learned to handle gracefully unexpected incidents like the homage of Selperron. But she also knew that men mostly prefer to admit to and pursue their desires privately, or at any rate only among their friends. If Elvair-ka-Virrion had negotiated an assignation for her she would have felt no qualms, and this was what she had in fact suggested while they were walking by the Barb that afternoon. He, however, had objected that it would be impossible at the very large sum she was trying to raise. Besides he, a prince of Bekla, could hardly tout and pander on her behalf. If, however, the thing could be put across as a kind of game, played in the libertine surroundings of a barrarz, that would be another matter. This proposal she had accepted gratefully. Yet would they really, she had wondered, even at a barrarz, and even for the Serrelinda, be ready to put their lust on display and openly bid against one another for her embraces?

She need not have worried. She had under-estimated either their concupiscence or her own allure, or both. Instantly, as Elvair-ka-Virrion asked his question, Ta-Kom-inion sprang to his feet.

"A thousand meld!"

This-about four months' wages for a farm-hand or a laborer-coming from so young a man, plainly struck the company as a flamboyant flourish rather than a serious offer. There was more laughter, mixed with ironic cheering, and someone, imitating a drill tryzatt on parade, shouted, "Quicker than that, my man! Quicker than that!"

Before anyone else could speak Elvair-ka-Virrion called

out, "You'd better all realize that although this may be a barrarz, we're completely in earnest. Anyone who makes a bid will be held to it; and there's one other thing I forgot to say. The money's to be paid tonight, either in coin or else in something of indisputable value, like jewels or gold."

"I said a thousand meld and I damned well meant it!" cried Ta-Kominion. "I'll say it again-a thousand meld!"

At this moment Maia noticed that four or five slaves were extinguishing the lamps round the outer edges of the hall, while others were removing those on the tables nearby. It must have occurred to Elvair-ka-Virrion that his potential customers would feel more unconstrained in a dim light.

"Two
thousand meld!"

That rough voice, she knew, was Ged-la-Dan's. The thought of having to spend the night with this sweaty, boorish Ortelgan, who had pulled her by the ankle and called her "My girl" within an hour of meeting her, filled her with revulsion. O Cran, she thought, I'd rather be back with old Sencho! At least he used to have baths. O Lord Shakkarn, don't let it be him!

There was no more laughter or cheering now. It had suddenly come home to the company that this had at least the makings of a highly dramatic matter. Just as a crowd, gathered round to banter and laugh at two men quarreling, cease their raillery when the first actual blow is struck, so these roisterers had become vigilant and attentive upon hearing Ged-la-Dan's counter-bid. Although most of them were youngsters lacking anything approaching the means to take part, this only made it all the more exciting. To watch wealthy people competing seriously for a rich prize, which only one of them can attain, to the chagrin of the rest-this has aroused and attracted onlookers for thousands of years, and always will.

Maia, glancing sideways, saw Nennaunir bite her un-derlip and turn her head towards the man beside her with a quick, wide-eyed look of excitement. Directly beneath the table on which she was standing, a broad-shouldered tryzatt who looked like a Yeldashay was staring up, never taking his eyes off her as he tapped and tapped unconsciously with one hand on the table-top beside him.

"Three thousand meld!" shouted Ta-Kominion.

"Be quiet, boy!" snarled Ged-la-Dan.

The lighting round the edge of the hall had now become

so dim that Maia could not see clearly, but it appeared as though some sort of scuffle had broken out. A dish clattered on the floor: then Ta-Kominion's voice, quick and gasping, said "By the Ledges, if you don't-"

"Silence!" This was unmistakably Bel-ka-Trazet, who after a short pause came composedly forward into the brighter light, grasping Ta-Kominion's arm firmly in his own. A pretty, brown-haired girl in a yellow robe gave a little cry and sprang away at the sight of his face, whereupon the High Baron of Ortelga calmly sat down where she had been reclining, motioning to Ta-Kominion to sit beside him.

"You'll excuse us, my lord," he said to Elvair-ka-Virrion in his strained, rasping voice. "My friend here said three thousand meld and he's perfectly serious. Pray continue."

"Three thousand meld!" echoed Elvair-ka-Virrion. "Three thousand meld for the favors of the most beautiful girl in the world! Come now, gentlemen, haven't you got blood in your veins!"

"Yes, but not gold!" shouted one of the Belishbans.

They seemed to be conferring among themselves. Their dialect was unfamiliar to most Beklans, but to Maia, who had lived and worked with Meris, it was plain enough.

"-and then we'll draw lots."

"Well, no wrangling afterwards, then."

"You game, Yerdo? Two hundred each?"

After some more muttering the big leader, breaking away from the group, took a step towards Elvair-ka-Virrion and called out "Four thousand meld!"

At this there were cries of disbelief and protest, but he added quickly, "My lord, my friends and I are making this bid between us. Then we'll draw lots among ourselves to see who's the lucky man."

Suddenly Maia realized that the business had become one of local pride-just as Elvair-ka-Virrion had foreseen that it might. The Belishbans were determined to secure her for themselves if they could; when they returned to Herl, at least one of them must be able to boast that he had made love with the one and only Serrelinda-he and he alone of all those under Elvair's command. It was certain that there was no other girl throughout the empire, however beautiful, who could have had this sort of effect upon her admirers, be they never so ardent. As she grasped this she blushed down to her neck and for all she could

do the tears started to her eyes. In her mind's eye she could see the green-and-white stretch of the Serrelind waterfall, the scarlet trepsis-bloom and the long-stalked lilies in the shadows. "You dazzle me-reckon I'll dazzle you!

"
'Why was I horn? Ah, tell me, tell me, Lord Cran! Isthar, is thai a steer-' "

"Speak to them, Maia," whispered Elvair-ka-Virrion. "They'll all go crazy now, if only you can make them."

Stretching out open arms, she looked from one flushed, eager face to another; yet not a word could she say. Laughing, and quickly dashing the tears from her eyes, she pulled the sprays of jasmine from her hair and tossed them down among the Belishbans. Still she said nothing: but the mere sight of her, tongue-tied and overcome by their adulation, the tears wet on her glowing cheeks, was enough to accomplish Elvair-ka-Virrion's purpose. All round the hall could be heard mutterings and whispers as little groups of men began consulting among themselves-Beklans and Palteshis, Tonildans, Lapanese, Urtans and Yeldashay.

"She's too good for Belishba!" shouted a gray-haired man with the look of a veteran and a golden fountain embroidered across his robe. "Kabin shall have her! Four thousand five hundred!"

"Six!" answered one of the Belishbans immediately.

"Four thousand seven hundred!"

It was at this instant that Maia, in the act of bending forward to accept a goblet which one of the young men was holding up to her, became once more aware of Ran-dronoth. The governor of Lapan was seated on the end of a near-by couch, elbow on knee and chin on hand, gazing at her as though there were no one else in the hall. A slave who was going round with a full wine-jar, stopping beside him, spoke to him twice, but Randronoth appeared neither to see nor hear him. There was no companion or girl with him, and this isolation emphasized and heightened the intensity with which he was regarding her. After a moment, with no movement or alteration of his gaze, he said quietly, "Five thousand meld."

No sooner had he spoken than Maia felt certain that she had been continually in his thoughts ever since the night which he had spent with her; and that if that encounter were to have taken place now-many long months, several

men and much garnered insight and experience later-she would certainly have recognized it for what it was; the inception of nothing less than an all-absorbing physical obsession. He was a man whose thoughts ran continually upon coupling, dominated by an inward concept not of ideal womanhood, of companionship or even of a girl able to amuse him or do him credit in public, but simply of a certain visual semblance and certain physical characteristics which excited him beyond all measure. And to this fantasy she-and in all his experience she alone-conformed entirely. This she could now perceive as plainly as if he had told her in so many words. What had haunted him since that night had been simply his physical recollections of her-visual, tactile; possibly even olfactory, too, for the matter of that. And despite-or perhaps because of-his ready opportunities for pleasure elsewhere, these had set up in him a relentless craving which her subsequent renown and exaltation had only served to inflame, for they had made him suppose the chance of actually basting her again to be gone for ever. Yet tonight, at the barrarz, it had suddenly reappeared, like a hunter's quarry given up for lost but now come wandering randomly, unexpectedly back out of the forest. At whatever cost, he was not going to let it go again.

He would be a procurer's dream, she thought: a man utterly in the grip of a specific and compulsive desire. There were no lengths to which he might not go.

Ah, but was there anyone else, any competitor to push him as far as she was hoping? His bid seemed to have altered the entire tone of the proceedings. The laughter and ribald gaiety had now drained away entirely, as though Randronoth had cracked a fountain-basin. Plainly many of those present-the provincial soldiers if not the Beklan girls-were feeling a shade uneasily that things had gone beyond anything they were used to or had ever experienced. Five thousand meld for a night with a girl-even the Serrelinda! Well, they'd heard tell of the extravagances of the Leopards and the vices of the upper city. Here they were, in all reality. And what, pray, might be going to happen next?

"Five-thousand-meld," said Elvair-ka-Virrion slowly and deliberately. "Well, of course that's not a trug more than Maia's worth, ladies and gentlemen-she's as far beyond value as the Tamarrik Gate-but at the same time

it's a good deal by the standards of simple human beings like you and me. So from now on I shall be taking bids in thousands. As you know, that's the custom in Bekla when bidding reaches this sort of level, whether for jewels or gold or anything else. Now, who'll offer-"

He was interrupted by the crash of an overturned bench and a sudden commotion from the dimness beyond the lamplight. A cry of protest was followed by a snarling reply; "Well, get out of the way, then!" and a moment later Ged-la-Dan came striding forward, his hand clenched on his goblet. Raising it towards Maia, he drank off the contents, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and, looking directly at Randronoth, said, "Six thousand meld!" as though striking a blow.

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