Maia

by Richard Adams

  The next two days brought no change and Maia, to her own surprise, realized that she was beginning to feel frustrated. It had never occurred to her that what she had become accustomed to doing for the High Counselor gave her any satisfaction; indeed, she had now and then, in the secrecy of their bed, expressed to Occula her disgust. Now she began to understand that her feelings were not as simple as she had supposed.

  She had never forgotten the day when Lalloc had first displayed her-the day when Sencho, beside himself at the mere sight of her, had vainly tried to raise himself from the cushions. Nor did she forget the night of the Rains banquet, when Meris had failed him and she herself had not. She was also well aware, of course, that he felt not the least affection for her and that if for any reason, such as illness or injury, she were to become less attractive he would simply sell her off for the best price he could get. Yet in a strange way this state of affairs suited her. She enjoyed the fact that her beauty and wantonness were sufficient in themselves and needed no supplement of emotion. Her own nature was down-to-earth. So was Sencho's.

  Despite his delight in humiliating his girls, he was in this respect an easy master, since he wanted and expected nothing but pleasurable sensations, which Maia could provide without difficulty. If questioned about her work, she would probably have answered much the same as a farm-hand- that she could do it all right, but would have been happier if there was less of it. Dyphna, she knew, would have liked a more cultured, aristocratic master, and Occula one in whose house there Was more social life and opportunity for her ambition and quick wits. She herself had no such feelings-the reason, she had hitherto thought, being simply that she was not required to do anything beyond her.

  She now discovered that there was more to it than this. Occula and Dyphna despised Sencho and found him tedious. To her his vulgarity, cruelty and salacity were offset by another quality-his enormous capacity for enjoyment-together with the knowledge that she herself was what he particularly liked. The transient indolence of his intermittent satiety-that too had been acceptable to her, as a night is acceptable between two days; but this new listlessness, unrelieved as one day succeeded another, began to seem like a long spell of rainy weather. Hunching her shoulders, as it were, she looked about her at a household become more wearisome than she had hitherto found it. If Sencho could not gormandize or rut, she was as much at a loose end as a farm-lad kept idle by snow.

  "He keeps telling Terebinthia there's nothing the matter," she said one afternoon, after she had finished practicing the senguela-at which she had greatly improved- and she and Occula were lying together in the pool. "And if I ask her whether he's really ill, she gets cross. But if there's really nothing the matter, why doesn't he want anything? Don't want any girls, don't want any dinner: I just about wish he did, and that's the plain truth."

  "It often takes them like that, so I've heard," replied Occula. "Gluttons, I mean, and lechers: people who've lived a long time the way he has. They get so their bodies jus' can't respond any more. Well, when there's nothing left in a barrel it runs dry, doesn' it? And take it from me, that's what's frightenin' old Pussy. She's afraid he's going to die."

  "D'you reckon he is, then?"

  "I doan' know, banzi. Always been in steady employment, myself. I jus' doan' know enough about people like

  Sencho. But I'll tell you one thing-we ought to take damn' good care he doesn't have a fit or somethin' while we're stuffin' him or workin' him up to a bit of fun. We could easily get the blame, you see."

  Nevertheless, it was remarkable to Maia that during these days Occula spent more time with Sencho than did any other member of the household-more even than Ter-ebinthia. He would send for her in the course of the morning, and she would remain with him for several hours. Once or twice Maia, entering the room on some errand from Terebinthia, had the notion that she had interrupted a conversation. Also, she received a vague impression that in some way Occula was influencing the High Counselor. One evening, for example, having been called unexpectedly to the small hall and finding, to her surprise, that he wanted her to gratify him, she sensed that in fact this had been instigated by Occula, who remained to encourage him and urge him on to satisfaction. Another day Occula was successful to some slight extent in re-awakening his greed, yet to Maia it seemed to come from the strength of her will rather than from his own appetite.

  Formerly, the High Counselor had not been in the regular habit of requiring a girl to spend the whole night with him; but now, more often than not Occula would remain with him all night and herself perform those menial tasks, such as bringing water, cushions or fresh towels, which would normally have been the duty of Ogma. Maia, herself puzzled, was secretly amused by the greater bewilderment of Terebinthia. Plainly, the saiyett did not know whether to feel vexed or relieved, for on the one hand Occula had to a considerable extent assumed her functions, while on the other the black girl seemed the only person able to soothe and relieve the malaise of the High Counselor. Under her ministrations he would pass each day in a kind of lethargy, occasionally rousing himself to eat, but for the most part drowsing in the bath, sleeping, or simply listening to Occula, whose whisperings and occasional chuckling laughter-about what? Maia wondered-clearly possessed some odd power. She herself had never had much occasion to converse when she was with the High Counselor.

  These long absences of Occula from the women's quarters left Maia a good deal together with Milvushina, about whom Sencho seemed for the moment to have forgotten. She herself was, she now knew, jealous of Occula's pity

  for the wretched girl, but of this she did not feel particularly ashamed. Family disaster, violent death and enslavement, though certainly out of the ordinary, were nevertheless recognized hazards throughout the half-barbaric empire, and Milvushina's luck was no different from that of the daughters of many a ruined man. The last people from whom those who have come down in the world can expect pity are those who have never been up in it. Milvushina had scarcely anything in common with Maia. Paradoxically, however, this proved a source of strength to her. A more sympathetic and understanding girl might well have increased Milvushina's grief beyond endurance, simply by feeling and reciprocating it more fully. Maia, by her ability to feel only a limited sympathy, blunted-a little, at least- the fearful edge of Milvushina's misery.

  Yet, peasant lass as she was, she was not lacking in a peasant's homely kindness to someone in trouble. If nice cups of tea had been known in Bekla, Maia would have made a nice cup of tea. The unspeakable horror which had been inflicted on Milvushina might be as much beyond her powers of empathy as was the Chalcon girl's aristocratic sense of her degradation and shame. (Maia had never felt in the least ashamed of becoming a concubine.) Yet it was not beyond her to persuade Milvushina to eat, to send Ogma out to buy her a brush and comb, or to hold her in her arms and soothe her when she woke screaming in the night. If the girl had not been plainly on the verge of collapse-even of madness-Maia might very well have given way to her natural feelings of resentment, for there were times when Milvushina unconsciously revealed that she regarded her in much the same way as she had once regarded her dead mother's servants; not, indeed, by ordering her about or saying anything contemptuous (her careful good manners, in fact, rather added to Maia's annoyance, since to her they seemed affected beyond anything she had ever been used to), but by her maintenance of a kind of reserve and distance, even when she was doing her best to be friendly, and by her inadvertent way of showing that she saw the world from a higher standpoint. "But that was long ago," she said once, recalling some memory of childhood, "before we had even fifty men on the place." And again, "My mother didn't possess a great many jewels, really." Maia made no rejoinder, for the tears were standing in Milvushina's eyes as she spoke, and after all it

  was she herself who had led her on to ease her mind by talking.

  To Milvushina the company of Maia, as pretty and about as cultivated as a gazelle, often seemed rather like that of the fire on the hearth. Creatures and e
lements have their fixed properties, which cannot alter, and in deep misery it is often easier to whistle to a bird or tend a fire than to make the effort to talk to an educated person. All the priests of Cran could not have influenced Milvushina to try to preserve her self-respect so effectively as did Maia by her mere presence. The educated person will indulge, excuse and make allowances for you; but you have to feed the bird and you have to tend the fire-or else do without them. Milvushina could hardly do without Maia, for Dyphna, polite but withdrawn, was bound up in her own professionalism and imminent prospect of freedom, while Terebinthia, relishing cruelty cat-like and sensing that Milvushina found it well-nigh intolerable to be at the orders of a woman like herself, seldom spoke to her without exercising her authority or going about to abase her in one way or another.

  Maia, however, with her ingenuous, bouncing warmth, often felt herself snubbed by Milvushina, and more than once expressed to Occula her annoyance on this account. Yet how could anyone-let alone Maia-long remain resentful of a girl whose father and brothers were just dead, who had actually seen her mother murdered and then been dragged to Bekla to become the slave of a man like Sen-cho?

  Sometimes Milvushina would speak of her former life in Chalcon, but this was always of her own accord and not in reply to any questions from Maia. One day, to Maia's astonishment, she told her that she was still a virgin. To those who had attacked her home, looting and raping without restraint, orders had evidently been given that she was not to be touched; and she had been brought to Bekla under guard of a tryzatt especially told off for the purpose. She asked Maia whether she had heard tell beforehand of any plans on Sencho's part; to which Maia replied that although she had heard nothing whatever, she could guess that at the time when he had agreed with Kembri to kill her parents and family, the High Counselor must also have decided to take her for himself. At this Milvushina wept bitterly, fearing that her very existence, known to Sencho

  through his spies, might have been a motive for her parents' murder. Maia felt this unlikely and said so; yet, as so often, had the impression that Milvushina attached little weight to her opinion.

  Often enough she felt that the Chalcon girl was keeping her at arm's length. More than once, when Maia had been telling her about Morca and Tharrin, or about swimming in Lake Serrelind, and then awaited some reciprocal narration, she met only with polite but mortifying evasion. All too plainly, Milvushina had no wish to become unduly intimate with a little Tonildan tart who could not write her own name.

  "Wants it all ways, she does," Maia said to Occula one night, when Milvushina was out of hearing. "Ten meld to talk to her, Lady Heldro, that's about it."

  "Oh, give her time, banzi!" answered Occula. "For Cran's sake, only give her time! In a life like ours, your friends are the people you find beside you. She might come in very handy one day, you never know. Meanwhile jus' try to remember what it's all been like for her. And she doesn't know when Piggy might not start feelin' inclined for a bit of fun. Neither do I, come to that-though I'm doin' all lean."

  So, little by little, despite a good deal of mutual incomprehension, the two girls came after a fashion to accept and respect each other. One day Maia, to her own surprise, found herself defending Milvushina against an unjust rebuke from Terebinthia for putting Ogma to unnecessary trouble. After all, it had taken her some time to get Milvushina to feel it worthwhile to give Ogma any orders at all.

  33: AN ODD BUSINESS

  Despite her anxiety on behalf of the High Counselor, Terebinthia, during these days as the rainy season began to draw to its end, was not without cause for satisfaction. In the licentious society of the upper city, every saiyett hoped for profit from the girls in her charge and, insofar as their master would permit, encouraged them to become popular with rich men. Occula, returning from Elvair-ka-Virrion's party, had told Maia that she thought she had succeeded

  in interesting some of the young Leopards and their friends. The next few days proved her abundantly right. Despite the universal fear of Sencho, lying like some bloated spider in the midst of his web of spies and secrets (a spider which might at any moment turn dread to terror by suddenly moving very fast to seize and clutch), a number of wealthy young men-respectful and open-handed-having heard, perhaps, through the network of rumor, that the High Counselor was indisposed and in no condition to be told of their interest or to give it his personal attention, called at the gate, asking to speak to Terebinthia, and if they got as far as an audience invariably asked whether it might be possible-for'an appropriate consideration, of course-to make the closer acquaintance of the black girl who had literally ensorcelled more than sixty people together in the Lord General's hall. Occula's performance, it now appeared, had not only frightened and fascinated her spectators but had also-after the manner of shocking experiences, from whippings to earthquakes-had an aphrodisiac effect, leading to a general, orgiastic release of tension, highly exciting and pleasurable, which some supposed she might be able to repeat on demand. Terebinthia, who had been told nothing about the affair either by Occula or Maia, was puzzled but pleased enough. Occula, she replied to the young men, was no ordinary girl. She was particular about her admirers-she could afford to be-and accustomed to receive a generous lygol. Furthermore, she was not often available, being, as one might suppose, in great demand with her master. However, she would see what she could do-that was to say-er-if the young gentleman really felt it-er-worth his while. Most of the young gentlemen did, and showed it, but Terebinthia, though she had never had such a pearl in her hands before, was too clever and experienced to make Occula freely available, even to the wealthy. For one thing, she wished if possible to keep the matter (and the money) from Sencho. This, of course, was perilous, but his present condition made it a chance worth taking. Again, she had assessed Occula as a girl of exceptional style, with far more than the kind of short-term basting appeal of a beauty like Meris, and she did not mean to let her attraction burn up and blaze out like a fire-festival bonfire. It had already occurred to her that if the High Counselor were to die, as now seemed a

  possibility, she might be able to arrange Occula's sale, or even marriage, to her own profit.

  Finally, there was the hard fact that in practice she had less control over the black girl than she allowed people to think. For one thing, Occula was not only spending many hours each day with the High Counselor: she was clearly- and this was mysterious-content to do so. On certain days she was with him from morning till night, and did not even show any particular haste to be done. If she found her task burdensome she never said so. In the second place, she clearly had her own ideas on how best to pursue her career in the upper city. Terebinthia felt herself to be acting as bawd to an old head on young shoulders-a head which it would probably be more profitable to take into partnership than try to order about. Occula, in short, wielded the same kind of power as a highly talented dancer or singer. Self-willed and wayward though she might appear, she yet possessed an authority firmly grounded upon her ability to land the prizes if left to do it in her own way.

  It soon became plain that she was more interested in the powerful than the merely wealthy. Despite every opportunity which Terebinthia could make for her, the hours she apparently felt able to spend away from Sencho were few and these-since she was in a position to exercise her own choice-she used almost entirely in meeting men of consequence. When one of the wealthier cloth-traders in Herl-Belishba, having heard of her fame while on business in Bekla, asked her to dine with him, she suggested to Terebinthia that perhaps they might pass the invitation on to Dyphna, since she herself felt she could not leave the High Counselor. Yet the following afternoon she spent with a close friend of Elvair-ka-Virrion and the next with Kerith-a-Thrain, the commander of the Beklan regiment, an officer of no great wealth but much standing as one of the staunchest supporters of the Leopards throughout the army. Sometimes she would accept an invitation to a party, but on these occasions, though always pressed, she never consented to repeat her act as t
he jungle huntress. Although the refusal disappointed her hosts-one or two of whom complained to Terebinthia that this slave-girl ought to do as she was told and stop telling her betters what she might or might not have a fancy to perform-she possessed other erotic accomplishments so remarkable that requests for her company continued to pour in unabated.

  Maia felt no jealousy, Occula being the only person in the world whom she sincerely loved. Besides, she well remembered the black girl's genuine pleasure when she herself had been preferred to go to the Rains banquet and subsequently summoned to gratify the Lord General. No; any difference in success between her and Occula, she felt, could only be for herself to adjust. As Occula had said, in the upper city mere beauty was not enough; she had to develop a distinctive style of her own. Stories began to filter back to her, through Terebinthia, through Ogma and the other servants, of Occula's prowess-how she sometimes terrified her lovers in bed, snarling like a beast in transports of savage pleasure and sinking her teeth and nails in their naked flesh; of an extraordinary kura that she had performed with three young men simultaneously; of a wager she had won that she would drink half a gallon of wine on a tight-rope; of how, to make up for the night when she had won his two hundred meld, she had led half a dozen girls in stripping naked and playing a game of blind-man's buff with Ka-Roton and two other Urtans, the understanding being that they should then and there enjoy anyone whom they might succeed in catching. Occula, relaxing for an hour in the pool, or returning after midnight to find Maia waiting up for her, never recounted these exploits herself, and if Maia asked for corroboration of what she had heard, would merely make some such reply as "Randy bastards pay best" or "Which blind man told you that?" Often she would bring back forty or fifty meld over and above her sealed lygol, and this she invariably split with Maia, the two girls hiding the money, wrapped in old rags, under the floor-boards. Maia felt that she would do anything in the world for Occula.