"Well, whatever you may have thought at the time, it seems you really blew his ears apart for him that night," said Nennaunir. "Of course, Randronoth's a notorious baby-snatching goat-- I'm too old for him, now; he usually likes them about fourteen--but apparently even he'd never known anything like you in all his basting life."
"Very nice of him, I'm sure," said Maia. "Can't remember doin' anything as I thought such a great lot of myself."
"No, of course not; how could you? But can you remember anything else about Randronoth?"
Maia, reflecting, frowned. "Well, I don't just exactly know what you're on about, Nan, but I do remember one thing as struck me. He was very much taken with the clothes and jewels as I was wearing, and he asked me whether I had any idea what they might have cost: he reckoned it must 'a been all of seven thousand meld, he said. So I says, "Well, what you got in your arms now cost more 'n twice that"--which was true enough an' all. Only that seemed to get him going more than anything else. Seemed as if just the very idea of what I'd cost and what the clothes had cost and what the jewels had cost was enough to drive him wild."
"Yes, well, I'm surprised, because to tell you the truth Randronoth's already given me his own version of this; I mean, without exactly knowing what he was saying; just while he was telling me how marvelous you were. That man's got a kind of obsession about extravagance, though I don't believe he's ever realized it--not consciously. Randronoth loves to feel that there's any amount of wealth and expense tied up with his basting--it gets him excited. Give him some little banzi behind the hedge at a village festival and he wouldn't want her--probably couldn't do it. But Lalloc could doll the same girl up in a gold net and jewels and offer her for far too much, and Randronoth's zard would be splitting his breeches. It's a funny world, isn't it? That was what really led to all that trouble over poor Sednil, you see. I didn't want Randronoth's damned ring: as I told you, it wasn't a girl's ring at all. But it was the most valuable thing he happened to have with him, so he had to give it to me: it was part of the thrill; and to do him justice he never seems to regret these little larks afterwards. Even his bribe to keep me quiet was far more than it need have been."
"But what about Sednil, then?" asked Maia.
"Well, now we come to it, pet; and if you don't like it, just say so; I shan't mind. Randronoth's up here again. He comes up every summer, you know, like all the provincial governors, to hand over his tax money. That's why he's brought so many soldiers with him. I hear they've drunk 'The Serpent' dry already and now they're starting on 'The Green Grove'. Anyway, he came round to see me and all he could talk about was you."
She paused, but Maia said nothing.
"He said he wanted you more than anything he'd ever wanted in the world," continued Nennaunir. "The lovely, inaccessible Serrelinda.' He knew you weren't a shearna, so could I help him--would I speak to you?"
"But--but why ever didn't he come and ask me himself, at that rate?" asked Maia.
"It seems he did," replied Nennaunir. "He went to your house this afternoon, but your porter sent him packing-- said you weren't to be disturbed on any account. More or less told him to go and jump in the Barb, I gather."
"I was asleep. I'd said as I didn' want to see anyone."
"Oh--well, apparently Randronoth took it to mean you didn't want to see him."
"Well, that's quite right," said Maia. "I don't feel inclined for anybody nowadays; not just at present."
Nennaunir was no less swift than Sessendris had been. "Someone you fancy, is there? Someone who's not here?"
"Well, maybe--I don't know, really, Nan. Only I just don't feel like becoming a shearna for the present, that's all."
"Well, that's sensible enough. Who'd work if she hadn't got to? But listen--I asked Randronoth whether he'd be ready to do something out of the ordinary if only he could go to bed with you, and of course he said oh yes, he'd drink the Zhairgen dry and walk backwards to Zeray and half a dozen other stupid things. So then I reminded him about Sednil and said did he think that if he put his mind to it he could get him out of the temple; and he said he was pretty sure he could."
"How?" asked Maia.
"Well, you see, he's got quite a few branded men working for him in Lapan; all the provincial governors have. And if he were to have a word with the household officer of the temple, who's in charge of the labor there--and slip him a few hundred meld, I dare say--he could probably fix up an exchange. A body for a body--why should anyone else care? Then once Sednil's been down in Lapan for a bit, Randronoth could probably arrange to have him discharged. Anyway, that's what he said and I think he'd keep his word--he's always been straight enough with me-- if only he can get what he wants. And what he wants is you."
Before Maia could answer they had arrived at the terrace flanking the door of the Lord General's house, where a group of girls and young officers were standing together in the sunset, drinking and talking as they waited for sup-per to be announced. Their arrival was the signal for Shend-Lador and a half a dozen others (among whom Maia recognized the big, bearded man whose breeches she had pulled about his knees in the Barb) to come crowding round their jekzha, shouting greetings and compliments and holding out willing hands to help them down.
"We'll talk about it later, Nan," whispered Maia quickly. "I'll try and help if I can, honest. Just let me think it over."
Nennaunir nodded and at once, with the air of having never a care in the world, leapt headlong from the jekzha as lightly as a hare, to be caught by the bearded man, whom she immediately kissed and allowed to carry her up to the terrace with her arms round his neck.
Maia followed somewhat more sedately. Elvair-ka-Virrion himself came forward to hand her down and Milvushina--who, Maia noticed with relief, was dressed as demurely as herself--embraced her and led her over to where several porous, earthenware pitchers of wine, beaded with moisture, were standing in the shade under the terrace wall.
"Elvair's told me about your plan," she murmured. "I hope you'll succeed, Maia, with all my heart. You ought to: you seem to grow more beautiful every day. Being a public heroine obviously suits you."
Maia inquired about the baby.
"Oh, I'm fine," answered Milvushina. "Sick as a cat every morning, and back-ache to go with it. The doctor says they're all good signs: the worse you feel, the more it shows he's getting all he needs."
"It's a he, then?" smiled Maia.
"Elvair's been sacrificing to Airtha every third morning for a month," said Milvushina. "He dedicated his sword today, and swore to make over all his Chalcon spoils to her; prisoners, too. I never said anything, but I don't really want to see Santil become a temple slave: he's a very honorable, upright man, you know..Everyone in Chalcon admires him. I don't think he ought to be humiliated."
"You're in no doubt he'll be captured, then?" asked Maia.
"Elvair's certain it'll all be over in two months," replied Milvushina.
As they talked on, Maia gradually became aware that at this, the first party she had attended since her return to the city, she was plainly regarded as virtually a different girl from the Tonildan who had been one of Sencho's concubines. Nennaunir, a goblet in one hand, was already surrounded by young officers, among whom she was laughing and chattering with all her customary animation. A little further along the terrace stood the composed, elegant figure of Dyphna, talking gravely with Fordil and Sarget.
They were evidently conferring about music, for every now and then Fordil, nodding or questioning as he did so, would beat a rhythm with one hand upon the table beside them. She glimpsed Otavis, too; still as startlingly beautiful as at the Rains banquet, but now dressed, for the barrarz, in a kind of provocative imitation of traditional Deelguy dress, with loose, gauzy breeches, two gold hoops round her neck and her hair in thick plaits fastened below each shoulder to cover her otherwise bare breasts. Several other shearnas were present--she recognized the black-eyed, merry little girl whom she had seen snubbed at the Rains banquet by Kembri's steward--and more
were arriving, as well as several ladies who, like Milvushina, were evidently wives or sweethearts. There must, Maia thought, now be over a hundred men gathered on and near the terrace, yet none-- as would undoubtedly have been the case last year--had come up to her of his own accord. Once she caught, from a little distance, a low voice, "That's the Serrelinda, look-- the girl in red." It seemed as though the entire company were filled with a kind of constraining awe of the girl who had saved them all from Karnat of Terekenalt.
A moment later, however, a man's voice behind them greeted first Milvushina and then herself. Turning, she saw Randronoth of Lapan. Plainly, here was one man who was neither daunted by the Serrelinda nor too respectful to look her up and down with the air of a boy scarcely able to contain himself before a bowl of strawberries.
"We met last year, Maia, at the High Counselor's: I hope you haven't forgotten." His eyes gazed into hers with a confident directness which said, " I certainly haven't: and I don't believe you will have, either."
She paused, smiling, yet uncertain how to reply. She had no wish--as much for Milvushina's sake as her own-- for him to begin talking of Sencho's household. But before she could speak he went on, "The death of the High Counselor was a terrible shock to me. When the news reached us in Lapan I could scarcely believe it at first."
The three of them had conversed for no more than a short time when suddenly, bowing to Milvushina and asking her, somewhat perfunctorily, to excuse him, he took Maia's arm, led her some yards along the terrace and, halting beside the wall, turned to face her.
"Maia! Listen to me, Serrelinda! There's nothing I've ever wanted in my life so much as--"
But at this moment she felt her arm taken yet again: Elvair-ka-Virrion was beside them.
"Lord Randronoth, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm afraid I must take Maia away from you--for a little while, at any rate. My Ortelgan officers are Very anxious to meet her, and--well, you know a commander's responsibilities--such a bore--but this is a barrarz and I have to consider my combatants first, as I'm sure you'll understand."
It was said jokingly, yet Maia could nevertheless sense a slight taunt in his tone of voice, even as she saw the look, quickly quenched, of disappointment and chagrin on Randronoth's face. Next moment she was walking beside Elvair-ka-Virrion across the terrace, among the general concourse now going in to supper.
The barrarz was evidently not to be held in the panelled hall on the second story, where the Rains banquet had taken place. The guests were being conducted to a less ornate, stone-floored room on the ground floor. It occurred to Maia, in the light of what Nennaunir had told her about the boisterousness to be expected on these occasions, that the Lord General had probably had in mind the risk of damage to his property. There was, for instance, no statuary in this hall and no display of such ornamentation as vases or carved lamp-stands. The chairs, tables and benches were strong and plain and the unfringed cushions of the couches were all made of the same stout, green growth. Nonetheless, there was no cause for anyone to feel that Elvair-ka-Virrion was stinting his hospitality. Great quantities of cold meat, together with bread, fruit, nuts, cheeses, peeled eggs, cucumbers, gherkins and the like were already spread across the tables, and as the slaves hurried in and out, smells of roasting drifted into the hall from the adjacent kitchens. Maia had never seen such a display of wine-jars. Also--and this, as always, delighted her--there were flowers everywhere, sprays, garlands and bouquets, filling the place with color and perfume. As a background to the guests' entry, Fordil and his men, already established on a low platform to one side, had struck up a repetitive, plaintive strain which, after a few moments, she recognized through the babble and hum of talk as an old Tonildan air, "The Island of Kisses". She had forgotten it--hadn't heard it for many a long day--not since leaving home, in fact. To encounter it unexpectedly here--found, as it were, in an old drawer of the heart-- filled her with pleasure and a sense of propitious luck.
"Did you really mean it about the Ortelgans?" she asked Elvair-ka-Virrion, looking back at him as she reached across the table for some sprays of jasmine to take the place of the scent she had forgotten. "I didn't know they was soldiers at all: didn't know there was an Ortelgan regiment, even."
"Well, you're quite right; they're not regulars," he answered, helping her to trim the jasmine and fasten it in her hair. "But you see, their High Baron, Bel-ka-Trazet, wants to feel he can count on our help against the Deelguy if ever they should need it, so he's sent me five hundred Ortelgans under a young man called Ta-Kominion--a bar-on's son. I gather he had a bit of a job persuading some of his barons to go along with the idea--not all of them love us, you know--but Ta-Kominion himself seems a good lad. He's very young, it's true, but he's a good leader and a regular fire-eater; he can't wait to get to Chalcon."
He took her arm again as they threaded their way among the benches and couches, where stewards were seating the guests, towards the upper part of the hall.
"The Ortelgans'll feel enormously flattered to have the Serrelinda seated with them for supper, and that'll be all to the good from my point of view. But Iwas thinking of you, too, Maia--" he smiled, and gave her a quick kiss on the shoulder-- "I really was. Ta-Kominion's a very impulsive, susceptible sort of lad, and I know his father's rich enough. There's one of their barons here, too, though he's not part of the Chalcon contingent; a man called Ged-la-Dan, who's made a fortune out of eshcarz and ziltate from the Telthearna. His men dive for it, you know. It just crossed my mind that the Ortelgans'll probably be able to bid quite a lot if they want to."
"It's very good of you, Elvair, to be at all this trouble on my account."
He laughed. "Feeling nervous?"
She shook her head. "Never. Oh, no, there's nothing as I--"
Suddenly she stopped, staring in front of her and as quickly turning her head away in revulsion. Some thirty feet off, beyond a group of young Beklan officers and their girls, was sitting the same hideously disfigured man whom she had last seen in the gardens of the Barb on the night of the High Counselor's murder. This, she now recalled Occula telling her, was Bel-ka-Trazet, the High Baron of Ortelga. She forced herself to look at him again. In this clearer light his face appeared even more ghastly, the left eye askew and pulled horribly down the cheek, half-lost beneath a great, seamed ridge of flesh running from nose to throat. As he spoke to the two men beside him his lips twisted crookedly, and she saw him pause for a moment and collect himself, grimacing as though the very act of utterance were a trial.
"Oh, Elvair," she said, "that Bel-ka-Trazet--oh, I don't mean to--only it's enough to make anyone take on bad. You surely don't mean that he-- that you want me to--"
"No, don't worry, Maia," answered Elvair-ka-Virrion. "You can take it from me that Bel-ka-Trazet won't be putting himself forward as far as you're concerned. He's very proud, you know--severe and harsh even with himself. They say he never makes advances to women, because he'd rather not think they might be pitying him. Would it upset you to help a cow to calve?"
"No, 'course not."
"Well, it would a lot of girls. But then you're used to it, you see. This is much the same. It won't bother you to be in his company after a little while. I like the man, myself. Grim he may be, but he's always been honest with us; and incidentally he's one of the best hunters in the whole empire."
He led her across to the Ortelgans, and as he began speaking to Bel-ka-Trazet she glanced aside to see the other two men staring at her in the way to which she had become accustomed. The High Baron bowed, taking her hands in his own, and she forced herself to look directly at him and smile as naturally as she could.
"I'm honored to meet you, saiyett," he said, speaking with a peculiar, grating ring in his voice, so that she guessed that his throat, too, must have been injured. "There's no one in Ortelga who hasn't heard of what you did for the empire in Suba. Perhaps, a little later, if you haven't grown tired of telling the story, my friends and I might be privileged to hear it."
There were murmu
rs of agreement from his two companions. The older man, Ged-la-Dan, struck her unfavorably; a typical Ortelgan, unsmiling, dark and thick-set, looking less like a nobleman, she thought, than a butcher or a drover; however, there was nothing servile about his manner and he was dressed as richly as anyone in the room, with an elaborately-pleated, purple veltron and four or five strings of polished ziltate and penapa encircling his bull neck. By contrast, Ta-Kominion seemed a mere boy--barely eighteen, she guessed--fair-haired and very tall, with an eager, restless look, a ready smile and something compelling and persuasive in his manner which conveyed the impression that he placed unbounded confidence both in himself and in whomever he was speaking to. It was as though his eyes were saying, "I know I can rely on you: I know you're my friend, and I'm heartily glad of it." She felt a kind of generous warmth in him which made the prospect of supper with the Ortelgans more agreeable than it had seemed a few minutes before. Within her, the invisible Zen-Kurel instantly approved, assuring her that had things been different he and this man might have become good friends and comrades-in-arms. I can see why they've sent him to go with Elvair, she thought. Reckon I'd follow him all right if I was a soldier."
She now saw that there was a girl with them; but whether wife, mistress or shearna it was hard to tell.
She, too, was dark; slightly built and quick-moving; pretty enough, with an intense, wide-eyed look--nervous, perhaps, thought Maia, of so many strangers and of the unusual surroundings. (It did not occur to her that she might also be nervous of the Serrelinda.) She smiled, but in response the girl merely gazed at her for a moment before dropping her eyes.
As Elvair-ka-Virrion, after speaking a few more words to Bel-ka-Trazet and the others, left her with the Ortelgans, she turned enquiringly towards Ta-Kominion. "Your friend?"
"Yes, this is Berialtis," he answered, putting the girl's hand into Maia's. "She's a very wise girl. She can tell you all about the Ledges, if you like."