Maia

by Richard Adams

"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, saiyett,' 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 ant-hills, 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, saiyett,' 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?' i

  "Ashaktis had looked in and she was white to the lips. 'I'm sorry, saiyett,' 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 thi
ck 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 projections 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 re-memberin' 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.