"How did you find this out?"
"Well, when I told my old mother what I was up to-- she sends you her blessings, by the way. She was more than grateful for the money--she said she knew there were some Katrian prisoners in the fortress and why didn't I check on them for a start, before I went to Urtah. I couldn't see there was any danger in asking straight out, so I went there and asked to see one of the captains of the fortress. The man I saw was Durakkon's younger son. He's no sort of a soldier at all, but he's a very decent, kind-hearted sort of fellow. Just as well--a real dyed-in-the-wool officer would probably have thrown me out. I told him my story about having known this Zen-Kurel when we'd both been banzis in Dari, and he told me at once--well, what I've already told you. Zen-Kurel's reasonably well, as far as I can make out--as well as anyone can be in that place--and Bayub-Otal too."
"Then--then surely they'll all be let out, won't they, as soon as things have quietened down? I could send him a letter, couldn't I, 'specially if you say this son of Durakkon's is so nice? Or--oh, Sednil, I could ransom him my-self, surely?"
"You might have tried, perhaps." He gazed at her somberly.
"What d'you mean?"
He took her hand. "Maia, there's something more, and this is the bad bit, I'm afraid. Fornis is in Dari."
"Fornis? Well, I know she is. What about it?"
"She's got the whole of Paltesh under her control, and it's rumored that Han-Glat, who's in command of the fortress, has become her lover. That's what she intended all along, I dare say: Han-Glat's about the one man who could stand up to Kembri, you see."
"Her lover?"
"Well, whether he is or not, no one's in any doubt that he's ready to do anything she wants him to. She's got Paltesh, she's got the fortress and she's got the prisoners. No one knows for certain what she's planning, but when I left, people were saying that she was in touch with some of the runaway slave bands in Belishba."
Maia shook her head uncomprehendingly.
"Well, you probably know more about Fornis than I do, Maia: I only know she's a woman who's ready to stick at nothing; and very bold and cunning, too. I think what she may really be trying to do is to make Kembri so nervous that he'll tell Durakkon to invite her to come back and confirm her as Sacred Queen again. And if he won't, she's perfectly capable of seceding from the empire and putting Paltesh at Karnat's disposal. At the least that would worry the Leopards very badly, but at the best--from her point of view, that is--she could hope to return to Bekla with Karnat and his army. That's to say, she could give him the empire!"
"Oh, damn the empire!" said Maia. "The prisoners! The prisoners, Sednil--"
"Why, the prisoners are one of her strongest bargaining counters, don't you see? She's got Bayub-Otal and something like sixty or seventy Katrians and Terekenalters, including two or three of Karnat's best officers. She means to sell herself and them--and Paltesh--to-her own best advantage, that's certain."
Maia, white-faced, fists clenched, stood up, staring out over the parapet of the roof across the lower city. "I don't care! I don't care for basting Fornis, or Han-Glat or the whole damned lot of them. Now I know Zenka's alive I'm going to get him out if it's the last thing I do!"
There was a long pause. "Maia," said Sednil at last, standing up and coming over to her side, "would you think about marrying me? I've loved you, you know, ever since-- ever since that morning in the temple. Do think about it seriously. A man of your own sort--someone you understand and who understands you. We could get down into Chalcon together before anyone missed you, and you'd be safe there. I know we might have a bit of a struggle to begin with, but I'd look after you and keep you safe--"
Turning, she laid a finger on his lips.
"I'm sorry, Sednil! I really am, because I like you and respect you. But it's not--well, it's just not what the gods say in my heart, that's all. Anyway, I told you before-- Nennaunir loves you sincerely and you couldn't do better." She paused. "I must go downstairs now. Do you see---oh, careful! He might look up!--do you see that man waiting down there in the garden? I'm going to refuse Aim, too, even if it costs me my life; and I reckon--I reckon it probably will. Can you please wait up here until Ogma comes for you?" Embracing him, she kissed him warmly on the lips. "Dear Sednil, thank you for helping me: I'll never forget it. I know what I'm going to do now: I didn't before; I only thought I did. So that takes care of everything between us--except for this." And she handed him a small, plain wooden box.
"What's that, then?" he asked, in the dulled, heedless tone of someone upset and preoccupied.
"The other two thousand meld. Had you forgotten?"
Eud-Ecachlon's air certainly did not much resemble the conventional notion of a man in love. As Maia came up to him in the garden he smiled and took her hands; yet there was nothing particularly happy or eager in his manner, which seemed, indeed, abstracted; nor did he compliment her on her appearance or her dress. She knew him, of course, for an impassive man, not readily stirred-- and anyway, she thought, 'twasn't as though she was going to say anything likely to make him start turning cartwheels. Yet all the same it nettled her--it affronted her sense of what was fitting--that he should to all appearances be so little on tenterhooks for her answer. She had left Sednil in tears, poor lad. From the look of things, she didn't reckon there were going to be many more shed round here.
Well, that'd certainly make it easier; but all the same it annoyed her.
He drank down his first goblet almost at once, like a man who needed it. She smiled, making a little pantomime of looking in and finding it empty. As she picked up the wine-jug to re-fill it, he asked her "Have you got any djebbah, Maia?"
"Djebbah? Yes, of course, if you want it. I'll call Ogma."
He drained his first tot of djebbah, too; and then sat down, looking rather more relaxed.
"I'm afraid you must have had a bit of a bad old morning, Euda. Everything all right?"
"Anything but, Maia; though I wouldn't say it to anyone except you."
"You mean the Council didn't go well?"
"How could it? The news is about as bad as it could well be."
"Why, what's wrong with the news, then?" asked Maia rather carelessly, as though the news were some sort of dish which Eud-Ecachlon had found not altogether to his liking.
He paused, seeming embarrassed, leaning forward as he tossed a handful of serrardoes one by one to a duck which had wandered up from the lakeside.
"Elvair-ka-Virrion," he said at length. "He's a friend of yours, isn't he?"
"Well, he's always been very nice to me. Yes, I'd say he was a friend."
"What would you say if I told you he was a coward?"
"Well, if you really want to know, Euda, I dunno as I'd be so very much bothered. Men are always going on about fighting and cowards and victory and courage and--oh, all that stuff. Elvair's got nice manners and a kind heart--I know that much. Why; are you calling him a coward?"
"Well, it certainly looks that way, I'm afraid. And you may find that you've got to be bothered before long, whether you like it or not."
She could have hit him. "Well, my lord, seeing as you don't seem to have anything better to talk about, p'raps you'd better tell me."
But even this, to all appearances, went over his head. "Well, the news from Yelda is very bad. In fact, they're not going to give it out in the lower city at all. It seems that Elvair-ka-Virrion, after entirely failing to come to any sort of grips with Erketlis in Chalcon, decided to fall back on Ikat Yeldashay for supplies and a general re-fit. He thought--and I think Kembri thought, too, though he hasn't said so--that once he was clear out of Chalcon, Erketlis would leave it at that and go home. But he didn't."
"Oh, didn't he?" asked Maia politely, since it seemed to be expected of her.
"No. He must be a very remarkable leader, that man," said Eud-Ecachlon. "He kept almost all his army together--apparently only a few went home--and made a forced march--something like fifty miles--through absolutely desperate country in less th
an two days. They got across the Thettit-Ikat road south of Elvair-ka-Virrion, so that he had to attack them."
"But I thought that was what Elvair wanted all along?" asked Maia.
"Well, so did he, but by that time his men were in pretty poor heart. Anyhow, the long and short of it is that he was beaten." He hesitated, and then went on, "But according to the officer who brought the news, he needn't have been. This man---Gel-Ethlin, his name is--made his report at the meeting this morning. He was so angry and upset that he couldn't contain himself--couldn't stick to what he'd been told to say. He couldn't even hold himself in on account of Kembri being there."
"Why, what did he say, then?" asked Maia.
"Well, what it amounted to was that Elvair-ka-Virrion had made a complete mess of the whole battle. Gel-Ethlin said he gave no leadership at all and--well, more or less ran away, as far as I can make out. And then he broke off the action, even though his captains wanted to go on. Gel-Ethlin said to Kembri, 'I'm very sorry, my lord, to have to report this, and believe me I wouldn't say it if I didn't feel I had to. If one word of it's proved a lie, you can hang me in the Caravan Market.'"
Even Maia was startled by this. "What did Kembri say?"
"Nothing. He thanked Gel-Ethlin as though he'd been reporting a fire or a broken bridge, and then he sent an immediate order to Randronoth to call up every available man in Lapan and go to Elvair's relief. But after what I've heard this morning I very much doubt whether Elvair will be able to retain the command. I think his own people may very likely depose him in the field."
"But Randronoth, you said?"
"Well, you see, even what I've told you's not the worst of it. It seems that after the battle Elvair-ka-Virrion, with the choice of falling back on Thettit or Bekla, chose Bekla, and his force is retreating now through eastern Lapan. But Erketlis has given out that what he intends, in the light of this victory, is nothing less than to take Bekla and destroy the Leopards--the slave-traders, as he calls them. He's had it proclaimed everywhere from Ikat to Herl."
Ogma appeared to announce dinner, and Maia, taking her guest's arm, led him back up the garden.
"What it comes to, Maia, I'm afraid, is that the whole empire's riddled with disaffection against the Leopards. Erketlis is the most serious, of course, but there's a slave rising half out of control in Belishba--or that's what it sounds like. Fornis has taken over Paltesh to play her own game---whatever it may be--and that damned Lenkrit's sneaking up and down in western Urtah, making all the trouble he can."
He slit his trout, took out the tail, backbone and head and put them on the plate Ogma was holding ready.
"I'll tell you, I honestly wonder whether Durakkon and Kembri will be able to keep a roof over their heads in this storm. I say this to you, Maia, though I wouldn't say it to anyone else. I believe all the provinces are hanging back, waiting to see which way it's going to go. If Erketlis isn't beaten soon--" He shrugged his shoulders.
Could she herself make any use of this? thought Maia. If it were really the beginning of what Occula had called "the biggest shine for a thousand years', did it offer her any practical hope of getting to Dari--to the fortress--and then---? Perhaps someone--perhaps even Durakkon's son, if he had such a kind heart--could be cajoled or bribed? Yet she felt, desperately, the limitations of her youth and inexperience. Might Occula be persuaded to take the risk and escape with her? After all, Occula's chances of killing the Sacred Queen might very well be as good in Dari as in Bekla. Oh, ah, she thought, and as deadly dangerous too. Occula's wits, Occula's experience, Occula's help-- the price to he paid for these, like enough, would be a share in the appalling venture to which Occula had devoted herself.
Well, so be it. Now that she knew he was alive, she was ready to go to any lengths for Zenka.
She realized that Eud-Ecachlon had apparently asked her some question. He was looking at her inquiringly and seemed a little put out.
"I said 'I wonder what you think': or weren't you listening?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Euda, I'm afraid my thoughts had wandered a bit, just for a moment. But after all, it's understandable, isn't it? You've told me enough this morning to worry anybody."
It would have been nice, she thought, if he had tried to give her some reassurance; spoken a few comforting words-- yes, even if they'd been so much moonshine--something like "he was sure everything was going to turn out all right; she mustn't worry"--the sort of thing men usually said to girls when things were looking bad. However, he didn't.
"I was saying I thought it would all depend on the response Kembri gets from the various provinces. He's summoned every provincial governor except Randronoth-- Randronoth's got his orders already, of course--to come to Bekla and renew their oath of allegiance to Durakkon. They've been told to be ready to tell him how many men they can send. What I asked was whether you had any idea how many Tonilda might be able to send. You come from down that way, don't you?"
"Yes, but--well, my lord, I mean, I wouldn't know about a thing like that; not someone like me."
"Paltesh won't help, of course--not now Forms is there. But Bel-ka-Trazet's already on his way from Ortelga, so I've heard; and believe it or not, there's someone coming from Suba."
"From Suba, my lord? Why, how can that be? Suba still belongs to King Karnat, doesn't it? You don't mean to say as he's allowing someone to come to Bekla to talk about helping the Leopards?"
"Well, I don't know any more than I've told you," answered Eud-Ecachlon, as Ogma took away the remains of his fish plate and put in front of him a dish of pork, with shallots and spiced brillions. "The man who's coming-- Kembri told us this morning--he isn't a baron or a governor at all, and he certainly hasn't been sent by Karnat. He's some sort of old medicine-man, or something. But apparently he commands such enormous respect all over Suba that when he said on his own account that he wanted to come to Bekla and talk to Durakkon, Karnat wasn't prepared to go the length of stopping him."
"An old-- medicine-man?" asked Maia, staring. "Euda, what's his name, do you know?"
"Yes, I did hear it--wait a minute--yes; Nasada, that's it. Someone said that the Subans--why, what's the matter, Maia? Do you know him, or something?"
"Yes. Yes, I do!" She collected herself. "Well, it's only just that when I was there I was taken bad, sort of, and he put me right, that's all."
"Well, it's a small world, isn't it?" said Eud-Ecachlon. "Did you like him? Is he really anything out of the ordinary or not?"
"If he's coming to Bekla I wouldn't--oh, no, I wouldn't want to miss the chance of meeting him again. Yes, I liked him very much."
"Well, that won't be difficult," replied Eud-Ecachlon. "Our betrothal will have been announced, so of course you'll be able to meet any of the provincial governors and delegates you wish. In fact, I'm sure they'll all be very anxious to meet you. We ought to give a banquet, really. I'll mention it to Kembri--"
"Just a moment. Ogma, would you leave us, please, and shut the door behind you? What did you say, my lord?"
"I said I'd mention it to Kembri--"
"No, before that."
"I said our betrothal will have been announced--"
"I'm afraid not, my lord. You never asked me for my answer, did you? I'm sorry if you took it for granted. I very much appreciate the honor you've done me, but I'm afraid my answer is no."
He stared at her incredulously, looking completely non-plussed. "What, Maia?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't feel able to accept your offer, my lord."
"You mean--you mean you're seriously rejecting the prospect--the certainty, that is--of becoming High Baroness of Urtah?"
"I'd really rather not discuss it or argue about it, my lord, if you don't mind. And I hope you won't ask me for reasons. I've thought about it very carefully and I don't feel able to become your wife."
"Maia--I'd like to say 'dear Maia'--you're very beautiful; and everyone knows that you're very brave, too. But you're also very young and--I hope you won't mind my saying this--not at all exper
ienced. Have you talked this over with anyone and taken advice?"
"Forgive me, my lord; I don't have to answer that."
"No, you don't have to: but I'm sure any sensible friend and well-wisher would tell you that you'd be going very much against your own best interests to refuse an offer-- a future--like this."
"Then I'm going against my own best interests, my lord. Don't let your pork get cold. Be a shame to waste it."
"Maia, believe me, if you insist on this you'll be wasting a lot more. I don't want to frighten you, but it could prove a fatal mistake."
"Fear would be a very bad reason for marriage, my lord."
- "Oh, Maia, I didn't mean that! But you're so young and you see everything--well, so black and white. This marriage would be much the best thing for you--and for me, too. You realize, don't you, that if you were an ordinary girl living in Bekla with her parents, they could tell you whom you were to marry and you'd be obliged to obey them?"
"Maybe, my lord; but as things are that doesn't happen to be the case."
"Kembri might order you to marry, though."
She paused a few moments, looking straight back at him. "If you was to take me that way, my lord, I'm afraid I wouldn't reckon such a great lot to it; or to you, either."
He was silent, toying with his pair of knives, first one and then the other. She got up and herself served him cheese and fruit, then went out to the kitchen and brought back the tray of little sweet dishes with which a Beklan dinner customarily ended. As she came in and closed the door he said, "Maia, I must ask you this seriously. Is your real reason that you intend to become Sacred Queen? Because if it is--"
She answered him instantly and firmly. "No, my lord, it's not."
"But if you're still living here now, in this same way, at the end of this year, there's not the slightest doubt that the people will acclaim you, whether you wish it or otherwise. Have you thought of that?"