Maia

by Richard Adams

  "Zenka! Zenka!"

  "Did you call, miss?" said Ogma, coming into the steamy, perfumed bathroom where she lay naked as a bride and lonely as a widow.

  "Oh, don't mind me, Ogma," answered Maia, stretching for a towel to wipe her wet face. "I'm all upside-down this morning! Dreams-star-gazing-never mind." She broke off. "Oh, but listen-I want to go down to the silk market later, will you tell Brero? There's a new trader up from the south: Otavis thought we ought to take the opportunity."

  "Opportunity, miss? Strikes me you're not taking all what you might." For Ogma had been completely bowled over by Randronoth and the dawn delivery of the nine thousand meld (which she supposed to have been safely stowed somewhere or other) and had continually in her mind the prospect of a whole succession of lustful governors, councilors, merchants and what-not, whose tips to the Serrelinda's lady's maid (for Randronoth had been liberal) would carry her as far beyond her wildest dreams as ever Maia had been carried beyond hers. Nor, perhaps, could she-who had so often seen Maia return tousled from the couch of Sencho-altogether be blamed for wondering why on earth her mistress seemed too fastidious either to make three times as much money as any shearna in Bekla, or (if that was not to her fancy) at least to set about achieving a noble and wealthy marriage. There could be only one explanation.

  "Miss?"

  "Yes, Ogma?" Maia stepped out of the bath, flinging back her head and shoulders as she toweled her back. Then, as Ogma hesitated, "Well, what?"

  "D'you reckon they're going to make you Sacred Queen at the end of this year?"

  In the freezing silence that followed her question, the wretched girl stammered, "Well, miss, I-I only just- only people keep saying-I mean, there's them as-"

  "Get outV cried Maia, hurling the towel at her. "Get out! And if ever you dare to talk to me like that again I'll have you sent to Zeray, d'you understand? ZerayF'

  As Ogma, flabbergasted-for Maia was almost always the most easy-going and conversable of mistresses-stumbled out of the room, Maia flung herself across the massage-couch, sobbing, beating her clenched fists in the cushions and swearing as fluently as Occula herself.

  "Opportunity!" whispered Zen-Kurel in her mind's ear. "Aren't you the girl who had the wit to dress herself in golden hiies to meet the king? D'you suppose I've for-

  gotten; d'you suppose I could ever forget my princess of opportunity? Only find the opportunity, Maia!"

  After a time she dried her eyes, dressed and went pensively down to breakfast in the sunny garden. Half an hour later, the silk trader temporarily forgotten, she was lying in a low-slung hammock with one foot on the grass when Nennaunir, all diaphanous gauze and perfume, burst into the garden with a fervor like that of a hound welcoming a returning master. Before she rightly knew what was happening, Maia found herself embraced and so smothered with kisses that she could hardly find breath to greet the shearna or ask what it was all about..

  At length Nennaunir rose from her knees beside the hammock and stood looking down at her with a smile that broke into the outright laughter of pure joy.

  "You-you miracle-worker!" said the shearna, wiping tears from her eyes. "You conjuress! How d'you do it- m'm?"

  Maia, feeling good-humored enough but a shade impatient of this unexplained transport, was visited by a touch of the Occulas.

  "Well, on my back, mostly, but sometimes I-"

  Nennaunir, grasping her two hands in her own, swung her to and fro in the hammock.

  "Oh, Maia, thank you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! What more-what more can I say?"

  Maia looked up at her frowning, and shook her head.

  "You mean to say you don't know?" asked Nennaunir.

  "That's 'zackly what I do mean to say. What you on about?"

  "It's Sednil! Sednil! He's back, he's back in Bekla! He's freel Randronoth's given him a release token! And now the queen's gone, he's got nothing to be afraid of! I suppose you didn't arrange that too, by any chance, did you?"

  Maia jumped up.

  "Sednil; free? Oh, Nan, I'm so glad! Well, good old Randronoth-I never guessed he'd be that quick! I reckon he's a lot better than what he's given credit for; some ways, anyhow. What happened, then? Tell me! When did Sednil get back? Did he come straight to see you or what?"

  "No, dear; I went to see him. Well, he couldn't possibly hope to get admission to the upper city, could he? He reached Bekla early yesterday morning. He'd been three days walking from Lapan. He was in rags-good as-and

  he had two meld on him. And then by sheer luck he overheard someone in the market saying look, that was the Serrelinda's servant-girl over there buying vegetables, so he went up to her and gave her his two meld to come and tell me. So it was your Ogma who brought me the news. That was why I was so surprised you hadn't heard."

  "So'm I. 'N then what?"

  "Well, I went straight down, of course, and there he was, waiting by the Scales in the Caravan Market. My dear, we've hardly been out of bed for the last twenty-four hours! But I've got him some reasonable lodgings down near the Tower of the Orphans, and given him enough money to buy some decent clothes. He's started looking for work already." For a moment Nennaunir looked troubled. "I only hope he'll find something, and not get into any more trouble."

  "But surely, now, you can keep him going as long as ever he needs, can't you?" asked Maia.

  "Yes, of course I could," replied Nennaunir, "if only he'd have it. But I told you before, didn't I? He's a very funny lad that way, is Sednil. That's partly why I'm so fond of him, I suppose. He won't take money from anyone unless he reckons he's earned it himself. D'you know he's actually tallied up everything I've paid out for him? As far as he's concerned it's a loan and he means to pay it back, every last meld. That's what's worrying me: I don't think he's going to find it all that easy. I'm never sure how much you know, Maia dear, about Beklan ways; but it's usually rather difficult for branded men to get respectable work. Silly, I call it, because often, of course, it only drives them back to crime."

  Ogma came into the garden to clear away the plates.

  "Ogma," said Maia, "Miss Nennaunir tells me you saw her friend Sednil in the market yesterday, just after he'd got back from Lapan."

  Ogma looked startled and somewhat confused. "Why, yes, that's right, miss: he came up and spoke to me."

  "It didn't cross your mind that I might be interested to know he was back?"

  "Why, no, miss; I can't say as that occurred to me at all," replied Ogma, in a tone of defensive indignation. "Why, I didn't even know as you knew him!" Then, as Maia remained silent, she added, "I hope you're not thinking as I acted wrong, miss, in not telling you? It never

  even entered my head. He didn't look-well, to tell you the plain truth, miss, and I don't want to speak out of turn, but he didn't look at all like someone as you'd-that's to say-" Conscious of Nennaunir's eyes on her, she became even more disconcerted. "I'm sure I'm very sorry, saiyett, if I-"

  Maia laid a hand on her arm. "No, it's all right, Ogma. You weren't to know I knew him, and nobody's cross. Just forget all about it. I think Miss Nennaunir's staying to dinner" (Nennaunir nodded, smiling) "so we'll have those pigeons U-Sarget sent, shall we? That's if you think they've hung long enough? How do you think they ought to be cooked? You tell me."

  "You know," said Nennaunir, when Ogma had been sufficiently flattered, soothed and sent about her business,. "she was right, of course. Strictly speaking she wasn't to know. But all the same, a girl who's looking after someone like you really ought to have her ear a bit closer to the ground and be able to put two and two together better than that. It's part of her jot›-or it ought to be. Terebin-thia, Sessendris: why don't you get yourself someone like that? You could easily afford it, and it might make all the difference one of these days."

  "No, I won't get rid of Ogma," said Maia. "She was with us at Sencho's and she knows my ways."

  "I'm not suggesting you should get rid of her," replied Nennaunir. "But why not get yourself a proper saiyett as well,
someone a bit sharper-"

  "Well, I'll think it over, Nan, honest; and I'll think it over 'bout Sednil, too, and help if I can."

  The truth was that sixteen-year-old Maia had no wish for an older, more experienced woman to tell her her own business. Club-footed, dull, dependent Ogma suited her very well and she had no intention of looking for someone like Sessendris, who had advised her against trying to help Tharrin and been proved abundantly right.

  "Brero," said Maia, "d'you reckon you might be able to find me a particular man in the lower city, and get him up here without anyone taking any particular notice of it?"

  It was two days after Nennaunir's visit. Maia, having taken what was for her a considerable time to reflect on an idea which had first occurred to her before the shearna

  had left, was now (with a certain amount of inward trepidation) putting it into effect.

  Brero frowned, scratched his head and seemed about to reply, but Maia forestalled him.

  "I'll tell you as much as I know. His name's Sednil and I suppose he's about twenty-one." She went on to describe him as she remembered him. "He's in lodgings somewhere near the Tower of the Orphans. He's been out and about looking for work, so likely he's been talking to people round there who'll remember him. And he's a branded man, Brero: crossed spears on the back of his hand. But he's finished his sentence: he's free now."

  "A branded man, saiyett?"

  "Well, but he's got a release token. Anyway, he hadn't really done anything."

  "Oh, none the more for that, saiyett: that's nothing to me. Only you said you didn't want anyone taking any notice, and it won't b amp; possible to take a branded man through the Peacock Gate without the guards wanting to know who he is and where he's going."

  "And yet I've got to see this man, Brero; and secretly, too. I've had instructions."

  "I understand, saiyett." It did not surprise Brero to learn that Maia had had instructions. After all, she had had instructions to cross the Valderra, hadn't she?

  "Well, for a start let's see whether you can find him, Brero. And if you do, don't say anything about me, understand? Give him this box-there's some money in it- and say it's an advance for a special job of work as'll be well-paid, and that if he's interested there's someone as wants to talk to him about it."

  "He wouldn't take the money, saiyett," said Brero, "but he says he's ready to talk about the work."

  It had taken him less than a day to find Sednil. The area along the banks of the Monju brook, between the two great thoroughfares of the Sheldad and the Kharjiz, was a comparatively quiet and respectable district; quite unlike, for example, the teeming alleys and warrens further west, between the Khalkoornil and the Tower of Sel-Do-lad; and inquiries among its taverns and lodging-houses had SQon put Brero on the right track.

  "How did he act, like?" asked Maia. "Did he seem surprised?"

  "Well, more kind of suspicious, saiyett, really," replied Brero. "First of all he made me swear black and blue that 'twasn't anything to do with the Sacred Queen. He seemed real frightened of her."

  "Isn't everyone?" asked Maia.

  "Well, yes, I suppose so, saiyett, in a manner of speaking. Only it didn't seem to make sense, like, her having gone to Paltesh, as everyone knows, and why should he suppose it might have anything to do with her?"

  "Oh, he's got his reasons, Brero," said Maia. "Well, now what?"

  "Well, what I was thinking, saiyett, if you're agreeable, we might make a little arrangement like this, seeing as you have to see the man secretly. I'll go down tomorrow night after sunset, and meet him by arrangement. We'll wait together in a jekzha wherever it suits you: perhaps the Monju bridge in the Sheldad would be a convenient place. Then I'd suggest that you follow in another jekzha about half an hour later-veiled, of course, saiyett. When you come to the bridge, you simply get into the other jekzha with this young man. He needn't show himself at all. Then the two of you can ride up and down the Sheldad-or anywhere-while you talk as long as you want. I'll keep your jekzha by the bridge, and as soon as you're ready you can simply come back, change over again and go home. It just struck me that that might be better than meeting in a house: I mean, in a house there's always bound to be someone who sees you come and go, isn't there?"

  "Brero, they ought to make you a tryzatt, that they ought."

  "Well, one day, perhaps, saiyett. But I hope you won't go recommending me, for I'm in no hurry to change this job just now. Why, they might send me to Chalcon or the Valderra, mightn't they?"

  ' "Oh, great Gran!" said Sednil. "It's you!"

  Maia laughed and lowered her veil again. "Who'd you

  reckon it'd be, then?" He was looking far better, she thought, than ever he

  had in the temple. Indeed, she would hardly have known

  him. Darkness had almost fallen, but there was enough

  light from the lamps and flaring torches of the shops and booths still open along the Sheldad to show her a spruce, alert-looking young man with a trim, black beard, dressed in a new veltron and leather breeches. More striking than his actual appearance, however, was the entire alteration in his manner, and the figure he cut in her female eyes. Before, it had always seemed to her as though his whole demeanor-his facial expression, his talk, his gait, his gestures-had been as it were dyed, soaked through and through with resentment and dejection, so that it had been impossible for him to speak or act without expressing these things, as involuntarily as a priest expressed solemnity or a clown the absurd. In short, he had been the very embodiment of a convicted prisoner. Now, all this-as near as she could perceive in the flickering half-light and street hubbub through which they were moving on-had disappeared, or very nearly so. She had always been puzzled by Nennaunir's devotion to Sednil. Now, she thought, she was seeing something like the young man whom Nennaunir had first known; before he, like herself, had fallen victim to the cruelty of the Sacred Queen.

  "Well, it just never entered my head it'd be you," he answered. "But I suppose that was the idea, was it? Nowadays you have to be careful going about, I know that. I hope you've come so that I can thank you. Nan's told me what you did. The governor told me, too, come to that, when he gave me my release token. He gave me a letter for you as well: I meant to give it to Nan, but I forgot. It's back in my room now."

  "You can give it to Brero later."

  Now he set about thanking her in earnest, and that with an articulate warmth and fervor of which she would never have believed him capable. His sincerity went to her heart. Just as in the temple, on that morning of the festival when they had first met, she felt him to be someone like herself, someone whom she understood. Palteshi he might be, but she could tell without asking that he, like herself, had been born in a hut and known what it was to be glad of a lump of black bread. She was really delighted, now, to think that she had helped him; and relieved, too (for of this she had been doubtful before), to feel convinced that he was to be trusted with her secret.

  "-And anything I can ever do for you-" he was saying,

  when she put a hand on his arm and, again raising her veil, bent forward and kissed his cheek.

  "There is: but it's a very big thing, and I don't want you to think as you've got to do it because you're under any obligation to me. It's not a favor, it's a job. It might be dangerous and I'm paying according. There's no one else I can possibly entrust with it, Sednil. If you don't want to take it on, I shall have to leave it."

  Now he was once again the old, canny, worldly-wise Sednil.

  "You'd better tell me a bit more about it, Maia."

  Suddenly a girl flower-seller jumped up onto the step of the jekzha, jolting it and causing the jekzha-man to turn and swear at her.

  "Lovely roses, saiyett! Lilies, look, sir, and this purple cresset, real cheap!"

  She held up her basket so that the sweet, fresh scents filled the dark interior of the jekzha. Behind her array of blooms she herself looked pinched and tired. Maia slipped a five-meld piece into her hand.

  "I'll tak
e this rose. Keep the money, dear. Good-night, now."

  The girl was beginning, "Oh, bless you, saiyett-" when the jekzha-man slapped her arm. She rounded on him, cursing, dropped off the step and was gone into the dusky commotion of the Sheldad.

  Maia smelt the rose, tapping it pensively against her upper lip.

  "Sednil, what would you say if I was to tell you-if I told you that I'm-in love-with a Katrian-an officer in Karnat's army?"

  He did not laugh, or say "What?" or even come out with any sort of oath or exclamation. She could see that he believed her at once and took her seriously. For a little while he was silent; and she was silent too, waiting for him to answer her. And answer he did.

  "If you said that to me, the first thing I'd ask is 'Where is he now?' "

  "I don't know. And that's what it's all about, Sednil."

  Slowly, and more than once with a catch in her voice, she told him how King Karnat had received her like a princess at Melvda-Rain; of the supper that evening, and of how Zen-Kurel had come to her house. As she went on to speak of their love and his promises, she began to

  weep in good earnest; yet he made no attempt to calm or pacify her, only waiting and listening as she faltered out the end of her tale-Zen-Kurel's disclosure to her of the king's plan, the night-march of the army to the river and her own desperate resolve.

  When she had finished he remained silent while she dried her eyes and composed herself. At length he said, "But I don't understand. If you loved this fellow-and you say you still love him-why ever did you risk your life to make sure Karnat's plan failed?"

  She was astonished. "Why, Sednil, to save them all; to stop the bloodshed, of course! Dear Lespa, if only you'd seen what I've seen! Listen, and I'll tell you-if I can."

  She told him of the night-crossing of the Valderra ford, of the slaughter of the patrol and how she had knelt over the dying Sphelthon. Then, for good measure, she added what the farm-girl Gehta had said to her about her terror of invasion; and lastly she spoke of the Tonildan detachment downstream of Rallur, which the Terekenalt army would have destroyed to a man.