Maia (108 page)

She stopped. Her mouth felt dry. She could not see their faces so clearly as she would have liked, but at least no one had interrupted. Yet she could find no more words.

"Her message, saiyett?" called a voice.

That was better; she could at least answer a question. "The star!" she said, pointing. "It means good and not harm to the city! There's no reason to be afraid! That's Lespa's message!"

"Tell us your dream, then, little saiyett," shouted someone else; and there were murmurs of agreement.

"That I mustn't do," she replied, spreading her hands and shaking her head. "If you don't want to believe me, I can't help it. But I've come because Lespa sent me, to say she means us good and not harm. The star's sent for a blessing! That's why I'm not afraid, and nor should you be."

At this there was some cheering, yet somehow it lacked conviction. So distrustful and canny is the human heart that, faced with the unknown, the strange and imponderable, it is always less ready to impute good than ill, and often, even when misgivings have been disproved on clear evidence, will obstinately cling to them, as though reluctant to be deprived of the opportunity to feel hapless and accursed.

"She's right!" shouted Baltis. "Hasn't she been right all along?"

"Right for old Sencho, you mean," called out someone, with a sneering laugh. "You been listening to them big blue eyes and deldas, mate, that's your trouble."

"I been listening to her as swum the river, damn you!" answered Baltis angrily. "Are you telling me-"

Maia began to realize that if the matter were to come to contention, she had already exhausted whatever powers of persuasion she had ever possessed. Circumstances had not allowed her to go about the business as she had originally intended. Still, she had done her best and said what she had to say: it would go round the city. The thing to

do now-if only she could manage it-was to make her departure with dignity.

Standing on the plinth above the bickering roughs-their oaths in her ears, their sweat in her nostrils-she now became aware of some new entry taking place on her left, from Storks Hill on the far side of the market-place. The torchlight was too patchy and intermittent to enable her to make out exactly what was happening, but she could see two files of soldiers-oh, Cran, yes! there must be twenty at least just gone across the lighted front of that stall-and hear authoritative cries of "Back, there; back! Make way!" i

What could it be? Something important from Chalcon? Could they have taken Santil-ke-Erketlis prisoner, or perhaps one of his captains? Suddenly the horrible thought came to her that Fornis might have returned. She thought of the cat on the wall. Fornis couldn't miss her, stuck up here on the plinth. Well, yes, but Fornis could hardly shoot her here, in the full public gaze. (Oh, couldn't she just? whispered an inner voice: that's all you know.)

Whoever it was, they were coming straight towards her, the soldiers in their two files carrying spears and torches alternately. People were scattering left and right. No, it could hardly be anything from Chalcon, for there were no sounds of cheering or acclaim. Nor could it be the Sacred Queen, or there would have been attendant women. Suddenly she recognized the chief priest, dressed in full regalia and carrying his staff of office. No sooner had he crossed the patch of light in which she had glimpsed him than he was immediately followed by the hulking figure of Kembri.

The soldiers-presumably in response to an order, though she had heard none-halted about forty yards from the Scales. She could see them clearly enough now. Her armourers and their disputants had fallen silent and were no longer looking at her.

The Lord General walked slowly and deliberately forward until he was a yard or two below her. There he stood still and looked up without speaking.

Kembri, though lacking the warmth and sociability ever to have become, like his son, a popular figure with the mob, was nevertheless held in respect as a strong, resolute man, a firm ruler and an able general. To most he represented security and his imposing presence, stern and tenebrous, never failed in its public effect. Yet now, as

they stood face to face, the strikingly beautiful girl looking down upon the grim, black-bearded soldier, it seemed as though each possessed-and of this the watchers undoubtedly had an intuitive sense-a counter-balancing, complementary authority; bestowed, as it were, by different (and perhaps emulous) deities. If the Lord General was someone to be reckoned with, then so too, in her way, was the Serrelinda.

Kembri himself must have felt something of this; or perhaps, more prosaically, he merely apprehended, surrounding Maia like a kind of invisible nimbus, the devotion of the people; for though his bearing suggested anything but amity, he still said nothing, his intention being perhaps to agitate Maia into speaking first. She too, however, remained silent, standing outlined against the light of the comet behind her shoulder.

At length the Lord General, speaking so quietly that he was heard by no more than those immediately about them, said, "What are you doing here, Maia?"

"Speaking to the people, my lord."

"About what?"

"About the star."

"Why?"

"My lord, there was that many as seemed frightened and didn't know what to make of it, and I reckoned I might be able to reassure them, like."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not afraid of it, my lord: I know it's for good and not for harm."

"And do you think it's your business to interpret the stars; or the priests'?"

Maia hesitated. "Well, I'm sure I never meant no harm, my lord, not to the priests nor to anyone else. I was just speaking as I felt, like, and I didn't see as it could do any damage."

By now all in the market-place-and to Maia there seemed to be more every minute-had come crowding about the Scales and were listening to as much of the talk as they could catch.

For perhaps a quarter of a minute the Lord General stood silent with as much composure as if he had not been surrounded by an uncertain-minded crowd of a thousand or more. Then he strode across to the end of the ramp and began to climb it, no one saying a word as he did so.

Maia was conscious only that Kembri, while stopping short (probably in his own best interests) of actually having her thrown down or otherwise publicly disgraced, had plainly indicated that she had overstepped the mark. Faced with this situation, all her peasant stubbornness was aroused. She feared the Lord General as the peasant fears the landlord-because he had power. But although she now realized that she might have appeared to be anticipating the professional astrology of the priests, she also felt that in voicing her personal feelings about the comet she had uttered no more than anyone else up and down the city. She'd done no wrong and she didn't see why she should shift. Anyway there was nowhere to shift to, stuck up here.

Arrived on the plinth, however, Kembri simply ignored her, turning to the people below. Having a deep, resonant voice-always a great advantage in a commander-he hardly needed to raise it, so that he gave no least impression of self-consciousness or of straining to convince the crowd by rhetoric.

"I have been at the temple of Gran, conferring with the chief priest and his experienced astrologers about the meaning of this star. The chief priest is with me now, and we are returning together to the upper city to consult with the Council. Tomorrow the heralds will announce the results of our deliberations." He paused. "To arrive at the truth, reliably and responsibly, is like making a good sword or choosing a good wife. It takes time. That is what your priests and rulers are doing for you now, and I shall leave you in order to go and get on with it."

With this he walked back down the ramp, rejoined the chief priest and immediately set off across the market in the direction of the Street of the Armourers, the tryzatt superior hastily calling his men to order and overtaking him with something of a scramble.

"What about that, then, missy, eh?" called out the man who had spoken of Sencho.

"I didn't come here to argue," answered Maia hotly, "or to disagree with the priests; and you needn't think it. I simply came to say what the goddess told me. I don't stand to get anything out of this at all-"

"Except to make yourself look important," said the man.

"How can she make herself look any more important than what she is now, you damn' fool?" shouted Baltis. "Why don't you shut your blasted mouth?" And thereupon

there was something of a concerted movement towards the man on the part of Maia's little group of armourers, which made him hastily follow Baltis's suggestion.

"Anyway, I'm going home now," called out Maia. "Thank you all for listening to me! Baltis!"-and, as he turned and looked up at her-"Catch!"

Normally she wouldn't have risked it, but she was chagrined, provoked and overwrought by what had happened, and in no mood to care a curse. Without giving Baltis a second's pause to grasp what she meant to do, she leaped off the plinth, flinging herself at him where he stood below. It took him entirely by surprise and he was only just in time to catch her. As it was, she hit her forehead rather painfully against his cheekbone and had to save herself by throwing her arms round his neck. Kissing him quickly on both cheeks, she slid to the ground.

"Stars alive, lass, you want to be a bit more careful! You very near-"

She held up her arms, smiling on those about her. "Thank you-all of you! Good-night!" And with this she tripped across to the foot of the ramp and climbed back into her jekzha.

At least there was no doubt about the continuance of her popularity. She was cheered out of the Market, while a dozen young fellows contended with one another to give her soldiers a hand up the Street of the Armourers.

All the same, she couldn't help covertly shedding a few tears, and once back at home wept in earnest; partly from nervous exhaustion, but mainly from resentment. She'd only meant to reassure the people, and that despite the fact that she'd begun by being afraid herself. She'd never meant to go up on the Scales. How in Cran's name was she to know that Kembri and the chief priest would be coming back from the temple? Somehow it had all gone wrong.

However, once she had had a leisurely bath, got into bed and had Ogma bring her a good strong posset mixed with djebbah, she began to feel better, and soon fell asleep without the least trouble.

She was yet to learn exactly how wrong it had gone.

Next morning Kembri, having apparently come on foot and alone, found Maia in the company of Nennaunir and Otavis, whom he immediately asked, not discourteously but nevertheless without apology, to leave. He refused wine and, Ogma having characteristically left the parlor door ajar, told Maia to shut it.

"Now, Maia, perhaps you'll tell me a little more about how you came to be on the Scales last night and exactly what you thought you were doing."

Haltingly, and with several pauses (for what had happened was not entirely what she was saying had happened: for example, she had no wish to involve Sarget's man, who should by now be well on his way to Serrelind), Maia spoke of how she had seen the comet, how she had heard and felt the general dismay in the lower city and decided to set out with the idea of raising public confidence by showing herself unafraid.

"The truth is, my lord, when I first saw the star I was as much afraid as the rest, but then I got to thinking that as they all knew me and liked me, p'raps I could cheer them up a bit-that was about the size of it."

"I see. But I'm told that you said, publicly, that you'd had a dream-that Lespa had spoken to you about the star."

"That's right, my lord." (There could be no denying this now.)

"What was the dream?"

"Why, my lord, I simply saw the goddess. She was- well, she was walking in a wood, like in the Shakkarn story, only it was night, and she-er-pointed up at the stars and said 'Don't be afraid: it's good and not bad.' That was all." (It was the best she could do, anyway.)

"When did you have this dream?"

"Night before last, my lord."

"And yet you say that when you saw the star last night you
were
afraid?"

"Yes, my lord, I was. See, I only remembered the dream after a minute or two; then it all came back to me, like."

"But if you thought the dream was so important, why didn't you take it to the proper place; to the temple?"

" 'Cos I never thought of it, my lord."

"I see. But I'm also told that you said, before you got up on the Scales, that you'd had a dream in Suba and that that was how you got to know about Karnat's plan. If that's true, it's more than you ever said to Sendekar or to me. To the best of my knowledge you've never spoken of how you came to learn Karnat's plan, and as you evidently didn't wish to tell us, I respected your wish and refrained from asking you. Yet now you've been out telling workmen and laborers in the lower city that you dreamt it. Are you setting up to be a visionary, or what?"

"No, my lord: 'twas nothing o' that sort, really. I just got a bit carried away, that's all. It was all along of arguing, like, with some of those armourer chaps. Truth is, I never meant to get up on the Scales at all. I only meant to go down to the lower city and let people see as
I
wasn't afraid, whoever else might be. I meant to do good, my lord, and I can't for the life of me see as I've done any harm."

"Can't
you?" And as he said this the Lord General looked so dire and baleful that poor Maia felt positively appalled.

"My lord, if you're angry, then all I got to say is I don't deserve it! It was you as sent me to Suba with Bayub-Otal, and that very near cost me my life. I done everything you wanted and more. I've got nothing against you nor anyone in the city. I only want to be let to live in peace and quiet."

"I should like to feel sure of that, Maia." He had been sitting on a high-backed, carved chair-a gift to the Ser-relinda from the citizens of Thettit-but now he stood up and began pacing slowly up and down the room. "I know, of course, that at the barrarz you sold yourself for nine thousand meld, which my son gave out was to go towards the cost of the expedition."

"I never kept a meld of it, my lord."

"Then where
did
it go, Maia? For it won't surprise you that I happen to know it never reached the army."

"It went to the Sacred Queen, my lord. I thought Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion would have told you."

"Why were you getting money for Fornis under a lying pretense of helping the expedition?"

She reminded him of how she had come to him to plead for Tharrin, only to be referred to the Sacred Queen; and then, restraining her tears as best she could, went on to recount how Elvair-ka-Virrion had suggested the auction and how she had found Tharrin dead next morning; only

omitting, for Pokada's sake, what he had told her of As-haktis's visit to the jail.

"I see," he said yet again. She was expecting him at least to express some pity for Tharrin and sympathy for herself, but he was evidently preoccupied with more important considerations.

"Well, that explains a certain amount. But I'm still wondering, Maia, what your real purpose may have been in going down to the lower city last night and speaking from the Scales."

"It was like I've said, my lord; that and nothing else. I wish you'd tell me straight out what's on your mind."

"I will, then. In a few months' time the Sacred Queen's four-year reign is due to end. It's the wish of Lord Du-rakkon, as well as of the Council and the army, that she should be succeeded by the lady Milvushina. They have excellent reasons, with which I entirely agree."

"Well, I c'n promise you, my lord, I don't wish it no different, that I don't."

He continued as if she had not spoken. "But the Sacred Queen, by ancient custom, is chosen by acclamation of the people of Bekla. Now, Maia, if the people were called upon tomorrow, whom do you think they'd acclaim?"

She was silent.

"And if that girl goes about the lower city telling tales about Lespa revealing Karnat's plans to her in dreams, and claiming to know the meaning of the star before the priests have had time to utter a word, what am I and the Council to think?"

"My lord, I never give it a thought! 'Tweren't
like
that, not a bit! Honest, I give you my word I don't
want
to be Sacred Queen!"

"No? Then I'm puzzled, Maia. The night of the barrarz you spent with Randronoth, didn't you?"

"Yes, my lord. And as for why, I've just told you."

"I can understand you not particularly wanting to become a shearna-you've got money enough without-but I find it puzzling that apparently-I say
apparently
-you've taken no lover since you came back from Suba. I'm not the only person to think that strange."

Yet even he could never guess about Zen-Kurel, she felt sure. She need only decline to offer any explanation.

"Well, after all, that's my own affair, my lord, if I just

don't feel inclined. It's of no importance to anyone else as I can see."

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Maia. If you were a nobody, it would be different; but you're not, as you're perfectly well aware yourself. I want to know-is Ran-dronoth your lover?"

"No, he's
not,
my lord! I only ever went to bed with Lord Randronoth the twice: once was last year, when I was still a slave at the High Counselor's and he told me to, and the other was at the barrarz, because he was the one as bid the most."

The Lord General sat down again and faced her. "Yet not long ago he sent one of his young noblemen from Lapan-a man called Count Seekron-to visit you here, didn't he?"

Maia colored, and saw that this was not lost upon Kembri. He had taken her unawares. After a few moments, however, it dawned on her that Randronoth had forethought that Kembri would be bound to learn of Seekron's visit and had already put her in the clear.

"Yes, certainly, my lord. He came to bring me a present from Lord Randronoth. P'raps you'd like to see it: here it is."

Kembri examined the carved miniature cabinet carefully, opening and shutting it and turning it over in his huge hands.

"Very pretty. Very valuable, too, I should imagine. Hardly the kind of present a man gives a girl for a casual night's pleasure, do you think?"

"My lord, men send me presents from all over-men I've never even seen, some of thenv The house is full of presents."

"Hardly of this quality, perhaps. Was there a letter with it?"

"Yes, my lord; but I get dozens of letters no different. I never answer them; I throw them away. Lord Randronoth may fancy himself in love, but that's nothing to me, I can assure you."

There was a long silence. Maia began to be filled with a certain sense of having kept the water out. It occurred to her, however, that many people buried valuables under their cellar floors and that she would not put it entirely past Kembri to have hers dug up. She had better find somewhere else: quickly, too.

At length the Lord General stood up, took a step forward and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Maia, you won't have forgotten the day when we talked about adventurers. There's only one touchstone an adventurer's judged by: success or failure. I'll be frank with you. I respect you because you've been extraordinarily successful. I have two reasons for not doing away with you-"

"Doing
away
with me, my lord?" She stared at him aghast.

"Just that. Pull yourself together: this is the real world, Maia. One reason's personal and the other's-well, public. First, even a man like me's not entirely devoid of human feelings. I admire what you achieved in Suba and I feel as grateful to you as anyone else in Bekla. But just supposing, Maia, that there was someone in Bekla who didn't feel in the least grateful to you, who hated you and wanted to do away with you, they'd still find that very difficult and even dangerous, because of your enormous popularity. There are many people in the lower city who believe you're more-or-less divine. It's no exaggeration to say that if you were thought to have been murdered, it would probably be very hard to keep the people under control. That's the real reason why you haven't been. By Fornis, I mean," he added, as she remained looking incredulously up at him.

She answered never a word. His talk of murder-and her realization that he was speaking of it as matter-of-factly as he might have spoken of repairing a highway or collecting a provincial tax-had numbed her.

"So you're the people's pretty mascot. There's no real harm in that, unless-
unless,
Maia, you let yourself become an implement in the hands of unscrupulous people who try to make use of you for subversive ends. Are you quite sure that you didn't go down to the Scales last night with the idea of increasing your personal influence in the city?"

This, at least, she could answer with truth and conviction. "Absolutely certain, my lord."

"Well, take care you're not misunderstood again, Maia, that's all. I'll say this much: I believe you when you say you don't want to be Sacred Queen. I don't see you as-" he paused, then shrugged-"ambitious. There are people to whom the possession of real and actual power's worth more than anything else-more than money, health, friends,

peace of mind. To certain people nothing outweighs the possession of power. Fornis is that sort of person. So was that black girl-friend of yours, in her own way. That's why I still believe she probably had some sort of hand in Sen-cho's murder: she was the sort of person who would. You're not." For the first time he smiled, though somewhat constrainedly. "But people who
don't
live for power, Maia, are usually people who want to lead normal lives and gratify normal appetites and desires. If you don't want to be misunderstood and fall under suspicion, why don't you find yourself a rich, noble husband and settle down to the sort of life and position most girls would give their eyes for? You could have virtually anyone you like; you must know that. I strongly suggest you get on with it, do you see?"

She could not answer him. Nor could such a conversation, now clearly ended, be convincingly followed by any polite small talk.

"I'll think over your lordship's advice very carefully," she said.

Ten minutes later, having walked with him as far as her gate, she was down in the cellar, removing Randronoth's money to a less conjecturable hiding-place.