Maia (150 page)

When at last she had been delivered and was putting Zen-Otal to her breast; when Zenka had come in, kissed his wife and son with tears and gone out to announce the news to the waiting household and then to everyone on the estate (wearing, in accordance with tradition, a wreath of planella; if it had been a girl, the wreath would have been of trepsis), she looked up and said, "I wish I knew how to thank you, U-Nasada. Do you know, when I was still just a banzi on Lake Serrelind I saw you once in a dream? Before ever I was sold as a slave; before ever I'd had a man, even."

He bent forward, stroking the baby's head.

"I hardly
could
know that, if you come to think of it. Tell me."

She told him the dream-what a long time ago it seemed! How she had found herself the Queen of Bekla, scattering figs as she drove her goat-carriage through the crowds, only

to come at last upon himself, in place of her own reflection, gazing up at her from the green depths of the lake.

"It's all plain enough now," she ended, "but of course I couldn't make head nor tail of it then. I went out and swam in the lake and gave the dream back to Lespa, 'cos I couldn't understand it,"

"Well, she's certainly sorted it out for you, hasn't she? I think you ought to thank her, not me." But she,could see how much pleasure it had given him to be told.

A day or two later he had returned to his water-ways and his devoted marsh-frogs.

That had been more than a year ago. She! had followed his parting instructions to the letter and surely there had never been a finer baby than Zen-Otal.

As a matter of fact this was the reason why she was here now in Keril-Katria. Nasada had sent a message that he wanted to scratch the baby's arm against the fever, as he had (she might recall) for the young Suban Kram. Zen-Kurel, himself no Suban, had been inclined to make light of the matter; but on this occasion Maia, though she had lost nothing of her respect and admiration for her husband (indeed, it had rather grown, if anything, for while he had retained all his endearing cheerfulness and self-assurance he was maturing, becoming less youthfully precipitate), was determined to have her own way. If Nasada thought it ought to be done, then done it was going to be. However, the old man had said that he would prefer to avoid a second journey all the way to northern Katria. Could they, perhaps, meet in Keril? So here, of course, she had come, leaving Zenka to see to the business of the summer cattle-fair, where he expected to make a good profit.

Nasada had now left Keril, having duly scratched Zen-Otal, pronounced him as likely a child as ever he had seen in his life and advised her to wait a few days before returning home, as the scratching might bring on a touch of fever, though nothing to worry about. So here she was, strolling along King Karnat Avenue on a fine summer evening, perfectly happy to be a country girl on a visit to town, with nothing to do for a nice change and all of five hundred meld from a generous husband to lay out on herself.

A little way off was a small ornamental lake, where white cranes were feeding; nothing near so beautiful as the Barb and only about a quarter the size; still, perhaps she might walk there for a while before returning to her inn-"The

Keg and Kynat," a respectable, not-too-expensive house- for supper. After that perhaps she'd ask one of her men to attend her to the dancing. (A lady in Katria was not expected to go about alone. She oughtn't really to be out alone now, but once a Beklan, she thought-well, perhaps not always a Beklan: but not a back-of-beyond provincial, either, to be subject to every hidebound convention while she was out on a bit of a spree.)

All of a sudden she became aware of some sort of stir further up the road. People were running forward in eager excitement. She could hear cries of enthusiasm and admiration-even a cheer or two. A voice was shouting, "Make way! Make way there!" Surely that was a Beklan accent?

Married lady and mother or no married lady and mother, Maia, at eighteen, had not lost her capacity for girlish excitement. What could it be? She could glimpse, above the heads of the gathering people, a tall man in an ornate head-dress, carrying a wand of office. It was he who was shouting, "Make way!" but for whose benefit she could not see. Could it perhaps be Lenkrit, or someone like that, on a state visit from Suba; or just possibly even the new King of Terekenalt? She had heard tell of nothing of the kind, but that was not surprising. Anyway, whatever it was, she wasn't going to miss it. It'd be something to tell Zenka and his father when she got home. "Oh, and I saw the king. What d'you think of that?"

Her matronly dignity (such as it was) cast aside, Maia began to run like the others, her sandaled feet kicking up the soft dust of summer. She slipped sideways past two or three men in sacking smocks, bumped into and apologized to an old market-woman with a basket, managed to get another yard or two closer to the front, stood on tiptoe and looked over the shoulder of a lad with a hinnari on his shoulder.

The tall man in the head-dress was certainly Beklan: now that she could get a good look at him there was no doubt of that. Although he was wearing a silver-and-green uniform he was not a soldier, but evidently some sort of steward or major-domo. Still shouting, "Make way! Make way!" and now and then pushing people back with his staff of office, he was nonetheless making slow progress, for the crowd was thickening. Behind him, dressed in the same uniform, came three equally smartly-dressed men, while

behind these again came two youths pulling a flower-bedecked, red-and-yellow jekzha. Seated in this was the center of attention-a young woman at whom everyone was pointing and staring. She was dressed in a gold-embroidered robe of scarlet silk and flaunting a great fan of peacock feathers, while round her neck, on a gold chain, hung an enormous emerald set in silver. From time to time she raised one hand to the people, showing her very white teeth in a flashing smile. It was not remarkable that they were all wonder-struck, for none of them could ever have seen a girl like this before. Not only was she resplendent in the prime of youth and health, radiant with prosperity and plainly enjoying every moment of the adulation; she was also alert as a leopard and not quite so black as its spots. She was Occula.

In the instant that Maia recognized her the jekzha had passed by. The major-domo having succeeded at last in clearing a way, the boys quickened their pace and entered the side-street opposite.

Maia, frantically pushing and thrusting, burst out of the crowd, tripped, fell, got up again and ran after them shouting, "Occula! Occula!"

People were closing in behind the jekzha, blocking her way. Still shouting, she shoved and pulled them aside, so that several cried out angrily. She only ran on all the harder, calling and stumbling but gradually catching up. Another uniformed attendant, bringing up the rear, turned and stared at her as she came dashing towards him.

"Occula! Occula!"

"Get back, woman!" he cried. "What do you think you're doing? Here!" he called to one of the others in front. "This mad woman! Come and-" He stopped her, striking an ill-aimed blow which glanced off her shoulder. She bit his hand. "Occula! Occula!"

They had her by the arms now, two of them. She was struggling. Then, all of a sudden, they were knocked aside by a swinging cuff apiece.

"You bastin' idiots, doan' you know who it is? Let her alone, damn you! Get over there and wait till I call you!"

The next moment she and Occula were clasped in each other's arms. There was a fragrance of kepris and beneath that the old smell, as of clean coal. The gold-embroidered robe scratched her face, but she hardly felt it.

"Banzi! Oh, banzi, banzi, I doan'
believe
it!"

They looked at each other with tears.streaming down their cheeks. People were crowding round, chattering like starlings, the liveried servants doing their best to hold them back.

"I thought you were in Terekenalt! They said you'd married your officer fellow and gone to live in Terekenalt!"

"No, it's Katria."

"Oh, Katria, is it? Hell, look at all these bastards! We can' talk here. Banzi, are you busy? Were you goin' somewhere?"

"Oh, Occula, how can you ask? No, of course I'm not!"

"Well, get in the damn' jekzha, then. Quick, too, before this bunch of bumpkins trample us both to buggery! Florio!" she shouted to the major-domo. "You'd better try another street or somethin'! The Serrelinda and I want to get back as quick as we can."

"Where are we going?" asked Maia as she climbed in.

" "The Green Parrot,' " said Occula. "Do you know it?"

It was the most luxurious and expensive hostelry in Keril. The idea of her staying there had not even occurred either to Zenka or herself.

"Well, sort of," she said, "but actually I haven't been to Keril all that often. It's quite a long way up north, see, where Zenka and me live."

"What are you doin' here now?"

Maia explained. "And you?"

"I'm with Shend-Lador. Remember him? He's on a diplomatic mission for Santil. What a bit of luck runnin' into you! We're only stayin' here tonight-off to Terekenalt tomorrow. Shenda's goin' to talk to the new king, you see."

"What about?"

"Oh, banzi, doan' be a fathead! How the hell should I know what about? Some sort of trade agreement-frontiers-politics-that sort of bollocks."

"You always used to be political enough."

"I wasn'; I was the vengeance of the gods, for my own personal reasons. That's different; and anyway it's all over. I'm the bouncy girl; remember? Thousand meld a bounce! But I'm well beyond even that now. I'm the black Beklan knockout, dear. Shend-Lador's mistress, richer than forty sheamas on golden beds."

"Oh, Oceula, I'm so glad! You always said you would be."

"Shenda's talkin' to the High Baron of Katria in private this evenin'," said Occula. "So you can come and have supper with me, can't you? You say no and I'll have you knifed and thrown down a well, banzi; I swear I will."

"My little boy-" she was beginning.

"Yes, where have you left him?"

"We're at 'The Keg and Kynat.' My Suban girl's looking after him."

"I'll send Florro with the jekzha to bring them both round to the 'Parrot.' Then he can suck your deldas all the evenin' if he likes, same as old Piggy used to. What's his name?" !

"Zen-Otal: they all call him Anda-Serrelinda."

"Of course. Poor old Bayub-Otal's dead, though, isn't he?"

"Yes, nearly two years ago now. He died saving my life, Occula! I'll tell you all about it over supper. Oh, Cran, I'm so happy to see you! Who'd ever have expected it?"

"Well, here we are," said the black girl, as they drew up in front of "The Green Parrot." "Kantza-Merada, what a dump! Best you can hope for here, I s'pose. Still, at least we've got a set of private rooms; and you'll get a damn' good supper, banzi, I can promise you that;
and
a nice drop of Yeldashay. We brought some along with us, just to be on the safe side."

Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that Occula had put on weight, thought Maia, herself feeling rather like Sencho as she leaned back against the cushions. During the past two years she had forgotten about suppers like this. The Yeldashay had gone to her head, too, for she was no longer used to it. She felt splendid. They had eaten and drunk and chattered their heads off. At length Occula had dismissed the servants and Maia had recounted all her adventures from the night when her friend had come to her house in Bekla to warn her to get out of the city.

Zen-Otal was fast asleep on another pile of cushions in the corner of the room. Occula had admired him-her unparalleled boy-with polite praise, but was plainly not all that much enraptured. However, Maia had not really

expected that she would be. She realized, now, that motherhood was one of the gods' great tidings to which Occula was simply deaf, and likely to remain so; just as, she remembered, good old Brero, who would never have dreamed of causing her a moment's vexation, had once remarked, "I can tell you all about music, saiyett, in one word: no good." There was no earthly point in letting things like this annoy you: you might as well expect a cat to eat hay. Yet she could remember the time when for her Occula had possessed the wisdom and infallibility of a demi-god-dess. What a shame, she thought, that while Occula had been able to teach her so much, she herself would never be able to communicate to her the first thing about motherhood! She wasn't fool enough to start trying, either. And Occula, she felt sure, must even now be entertaining feelings not unlike her own-what a pity to see her banzi, the one-time Serrelinda, fallen a victim, like all the rest, to the absurd slavery of marriage and maternity!

"I didn' tell you, banzi, did I," said Occula, refilling her goblet and putting her feet up on the supper-table, "that I've got Ogma in my household-have had for over a year? I know she'd want to be remembered to you. I'll give her your love when I get back, shall I?"

"Oh, yes, do! Poor old Ogma-clump! clump! Well, I'll bet she's as happy with you as it's possible for her to be anywhere."

"Of course, I've got more sense than to do what you did, banzi-put her in charge of the place. Nearly cost you your life, didn't it?"

"I suppose you've got some marvelous, charming saiyett, have you?" Maia felt much too replete and happy to take offense.

"Well, yes, I have; but Zuno's the one actually in charge. He'd never dream of leaving me. Well, you never know, of course, but I shouldn'
think
he would."

"Then Fornis-Fornis didn't take him with her?"

Occula looked up quickly. "Where d'you mean-where to?"

"Wherever she's gone."

For several seconds Occula made no reply. Then, putting her feet down again, she said very quietly and directly, "Banzi, you'd better tell me-how much do you know about-about where Fornis went?"

Maia frowned at her, puzzled. "Well, nothing, I reckon.

We're a bit out of the way here, see. Only old Nasada, that's my doctor from Suba-"

"Yes, I've heard a good deal about Nasada. What did
he
tell you?"

"Well, he said no one in Suba knew what had become of Fornis; and then he said it seemed strange."

"I'm surprised he hasn' guessed-a man as knowledgeable as that. P'raps he has." She fell silent again, twisting a great gold ring on her finger and apparently deliberating with herself.

"Banzi," she said, looking up suddenly, "if I tell you- everythin'-will you swear by Frella-Tiltheh never to breathe a word-even to your wonderful Katrian husband?"

"Well, of course, dearest, if you ask. But-"

"It's not because I'm afraid of-of anythin' that could come to me from-from livin' men. It's because some things are-well, simply not to be told. But I doan' believe Kantza-Merada would want me not to tell
you:
not after Tharrin, and not after all we've been through together. When you've heard me out you'll understand. Go on, banzi-swear by Frella-Tiltheh."

"I swear by Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, and by the divine tamarrik seed, never to repeat to anyone what you're going to tell me."

"Good! Listen, then. And you'd better have some more of this Yeldashay, banzi, 'cos you're goin' to need it!"

She refilled Maia's goblet and her own, drank deeply, and began.

"The night you left Bekla, there was fightin' all over the city; the Lapanese, and Fornis's Palteshis. Remember?"

Maia nodded.

"It went on all that night and into the next day. But what finished it was when the Lapanese finally got it through their heads that Randronoth was dead. The news took hours to get round, you see: the fightin' was so confused, all over the place. But once his officers knew for a fact that Fornis and Han-Glat had murdered him, they lost heart. Two of his captains-young Seekron and another man called Mendel-el-Ekna-"

"Ah, he was the one as got us out that night!" said Maia.

"Was he? I'm not surprised: everyone spoke well of him in that business. Well, they got together what was left of the Lapanese and took them back south again. Still, never

mind that for now. I'll come back to that: what I want to tell you about is my part.

"So Form's had the city, and no one to dispute it except Eud-Ecachlon. He was supposed to be holdin' it for Kem-bri, but he was shit-scared, and I doan' blame him, because he hadn' enough men to hope to beat Forms. Those he had he took and shut himself up in the citadel.

"So there was Fornis-and Zuno and Ashaktis and me along with her, of course-in the Barons' Palace, givin' out that she'd restored the rightful dominion of the Sacred Queen in accordance with the will of the gods. And what she meant to do about Kembri and Santil-ke-Erketlis I never knew. Perhaps
she
didn', either; 'cos matters were taken out of her hands. Andwhod'youthinkdidthat.banzi?"

"You?"

"No; you."

"Mel
Occula, whatever d'you mean?"

"I'll tell you. You remember we were talkin' just now about N'Kasit, the leather dealer I sent you to, in the big warehouse? He was one of the best agents the heldril had, you know. He was a heldro agent for five years and no one ever suspected him-not even Sencho. He had a few narrow squeaks after Sencho was killed, though. They searched his warehouse more than once."

"I'm not surprised he wasn't suspected," said Maia. "I remember Zirek calling him a cold fish and that's how he struck me, too: what you'd call imperturbable, like."

"Well, there was another side to him, I can assure you, banzi," said Occula, "as you're about to hear, It must have been next day-yes, it
was
the next day-after the La-panese had left Bekla, that Fornis sent Ashaktis to tell the chief priest she was comin' down to the temple. I knew what that meant: she was goin' to set about frightenin' him into supportin' her for a third reign as Sacred Queen. I believe she'd have done it, too-she could do anythin', that woman-only it never got that far, you see.

"She set out from the Barons' Palace about an hour later, and she told me and Zuno to attend her. She'd helped herself to your golden jekzha, banzi, and I can tell you it didn' half make me grind my bastin' teeth, comin' along behind, to see her sittin' up in that. Still, it proved a mistake, as you'll hear.

"Soon as we got down to the bottom of the Street of the Armourers, we could see there was somethin' goin' on

in the Caravan Market. Someone was up on the Scales, talkin' and wavin' his arms, and a whole crowd of people were listenin'; and you could see they were on his side, too, whatever it was all about.

"Well, as you know, Fornis was always a great one for confrontin' anyone or anybody. Give her a situation and an adversary and she'd always wade in. Most people prefer to avoid trouble if they can, doan' they? She knew that, and she knew how to make the most of it. She'd tackle anyone face to face."

"I know," said Maia. "I remember her putting down Kembri and the chief priest and the governor of Tonilda, all in one go. I was in a terrible bad way when she came in, but I've never forgotten it. She took me away and they couldn't stop her, that was what it came down to. They couldn't stand up to her at all."

"Only you couldn' do what she wanted, could you? Her funny little games? Well, I doan' blame you, banzi. I couldn' have done it myself if I hadn' had Kantza-Merada with me, and Zai's unavenged ghost as well.

"Anyway, that mornin', as soon as she saw the crowd round the Scales, Fornis told the Palteshis who were pullin' your jekzha to go straight over. And when we got closer, I saw it was N'Kasit who was up there, boomin' away like a cow after a calf. They were all listenin' to him, and no one-no soldiers nor anybody-tryin' to stop him.

" 'So,' he was declaimin' as we came up, 'where
is
she? That's what
I'm
askin'. If she hasn' been murdered, where is she? The girl the gods sent to preserve the city-the girl who swam the Valderra! Where is she, the luck of the empire? Her house is empty, her servants are gone. If you doan' believe me, there's a man here from the upper city, and he's
seen
her empty house with his own eyes!'

"They were all hangin' on every word he said, and he was so wrapped up in it that he never noticed Fornis comin' up behind him.

" 'I'll
tell
you where she is,' he shouted. 'She's been
murdered,
for envy of her beauty and her luck-the luck of the gods, which she passed on to all of you! Why are you all standin' there like a bunch of idiots, when you've been robbed of your sacred luck? Where's your Maia Ser-relinda? Why doan' you go to the upper city and demand to know?'

"He was doin' it so convincin'ly that he had me badly

worried. I was wonderin' whether you could ever have reached his warehouse that night, or if you had, whether you'd managed to get out of Bekla alive.

"Well, all of a sudden he looked round and there was Fornis starin' up at him without a word. He hadn't been expectin' that, of course, and he stopped dead in the middle of what he was sayin'.

"She took her time, lookin' him up and down. Everybody was watchin' and waitin' to see what would happen. And at last she said 'Come here.'

"Well, that put him fair and square on the spot, banzi, you see; because either he had to climb dpwn off the Scales and go and stand in front of her, or else he had to refuse to obey the Sacred Queen-and he hadn' quite got himself up to that pitch yet.

"He hesitated for quite a few moments, and Fornis just sat there and waited. And then he climbed down off the Scales-yes, he did: she was incredible, that woman, wasn' she?-and he went and stood in front of her.

" 'Now,' she said, 'what
is
all this that you've been talkin' about, may I ask?'

"You could see he was frightened, but he still did his best to stand up to her. 'We're talkin' about Maia Serre-linda, esta-saiyett,' he answered. 'We want to know where she is. We believe you've done away with her.'

" 'Oh, really?' says Fornis, noddin' once or twice and fannin' herself-it was scorchin' hot that mornin'. 'I see! Well then, you'd better learn differently, hadn' you? For as it happens I know who killed Maia.'

"That fairly made my blood run cold, banzi, for I believed her. Everyone believed her. You could see it in their faces. They were all paralyzed like rabbits by a stoat. And what she was goin' to say next I doan' know, but if she'd told them all to go up the Sheldad and jump in the Monju I believe they'd have done it.

" 'I think you'd better come along with me to the temple,' she said to N'Kasit, 'so that we can sort this little matter out.'

"And then, banzi, just for once she got a taste of her own medicine; the only person in the whole of Bekla, I suppose, who wasn' afraid of her. Well, you'd
have
to be mad, wouldn' you, not to be afraid of
herV

"Who?" asked Maia, leaning forward and gripping the edge of the table. "Who, Occula? Who?"

"D'you remember old Jejjereth, the crazy prophet-man?" replied the black girl. "It was him. All in a moment he'd leapt out of the crowd and there he was, dancin' and jab-berin' like a great, stinkin' ape alongside your jekzha.

" 'Ah!' he shouted. 'A shadow! A shadow will cover the city! The evil woman who gave me a knife to kill Maia! But I wouldn' do it! And when you shall see a murderess sittin' on the sacred throne, then you shall know that the judgement of the gods is nigh at hand!' And he said a whole lot more like that, banzi. He was wavin' his arms about and hoppin' from one foot to the other, and then he tried to climb up into the jekzha. ›

"Fornis didn' hesitate a second. She drew her knife- she never went anywhere without a knife, you know-and stabbed him straight to the heart. He went down without another word; but he was kickin' and thrashin' about in the dust for quite a bit, and the blood was somethin' to see: I can see it now.

" 'Right, let's get on,' says Fornis to the jekzha-men. 'We've wasted enough time here.' And off they set.

"But N'Kasit wasn't followin' her as she'd told him to.

" 'She's killed poor old Jejjereth!' he yelled to the people. As if they needed any tellin'! 'Poor old Jejjereth, that never harmed anyone! And she's got Maia's jekzha, too!'

"And that was the last I saw, because Fornis jus' went straight on without takin' the slightest notice, and none of them dared to touch her.

"We didn' go to the temple, though. She'd changed her mind about stayin' down in the lower city. As soon as we got down to the bottom of Storks Hill she made them go round by the Slave Market and back to the Peacock Gate without goin' through the Caravan Market again at all.

"Well, that evenin' I was helpin' Ashaktis to wait on her at supper when Zuno came in and said there was an officer outside who wanted to speak to her.

" 'What d'you mean, an officer?' says Fornis. 'Who is it?'

"Well, before Zuno could answer the officer came in, and who d'you reckon it was?"

Maia shook her head.

"It was Shend-Lador," said Occula. "I'd heard he'd come back to Bekla with Elvair, but of course I hadn' actually seen him. He saluted Fornis and then he said, 'Esta-saiyett,