They were sitting in the cool air of the roof of the Sacred Queen's house. It was nearly two hours after sunset and the lower city, spread out below the Peacock Wall, was everywhere dotted with points of lamplight. The half-mile length of the Sheldad, where it ran from the Caravan Market to the western quarter, showed as a bright line, while beyond lay the similar but longer, more irregular line formed by Masons Street, the Kharjiz and the Khalkoomil. The five towers stood black against the deep blue of the night sky, and above all shone the cool, still radiance of the comet. Vigilant it seemed to Maia, like a silent, heedful judge presiding over the contention of a court-room. Suddenly the imposing, stone-built city appeared to her as nothing more than an anthill of scurrying midgets, meanly self-absorbed and pitifully unconscious of their own triviality, the brief duration of their lives and the committed watchfulness of the su-
pernal powers. They would all die: they were all answerable. She, too: for her life, for her love. Reaching out, she caught Occula's hand in her own.
"Sorry, banzi," said the black girl, returning squeeze for squeeze, "have I put the wind up you? Well, could be all for the best-"
"No, 'twasn't you, dear," replied Maia. "Well, I mean, yes, 'course I'm scared, but I feel I've just got to go on and that's all there is to it: else there's no sense in anything."
"But how the hell are you goin' to set about it, banzi? Have you really thought seriously? I doan' like it one little bit-not on your own. You'll come unstuck fpr sure."
"Well, I was hoping as you might come with me, Occula. If we could only get to Paltesh together, I might help you to kill Fornis and you could help me to get Zenka out."
A flock of wild duck flew over the roof in their usual arrow-head formation, calling together as they disappeared into the darkness.
"Be all right if we could pop down to Baltesh like that, wouldn' it?" said Occula. "Peck her bastin' green eyes out and back for breakfast. No, I'm sorry, banzi, it woan' do: I only wish it would. You see, everythin' in my little game depends on keepin' Fornis's favor and confidence. If I went to Paltesh, I'd have disobeyed her-anyway, I'm a slave, remember?-and I'd almost certainly have given the game away, too."
Maia was about to answer when suddenly the black girl burst out, "Cran and Airtha, you doan' know the half of it! My life's hangin' on a thread-the thread of her whims and her filthy, beastly wants! You realize, doan' you, that that's all that saved you and me after old Piggy was done in? Shall I tell you somethin' else? What you saw-she does that because she prefers it. She doesn' want men; she wants that! All that stuff about never havin' a lover because she knew she was the Sacred Queen and the bride of Cran- that's all my venda! And another thing; do you know she's more than once had girls put to death when she'd lost interest in them?"
"Ah, she told me that herself," said Maia.
"Ashaktis told me, to try and frighten me: and I woan' say she didn', either, but I wasn' goin' to show it. You may have noticed that the little boys aren' here any more."
"I thought she must have taken them with her," said Maia.
"Oh, no," said Occula. "Just get some more when she comes back."
"You mean they've been sold off?"
"No; not sold off," said Occula. "Children talk, you know. But those ones woan'." She paused. "I sometimes think I'll go mad! She's the most cruel, wicked woman in the world. But I'll get her, doan' you worry. When the time comes, Kantza-Merada will tell me what to do. But I'm sorry, banzi, I'm afraid it woan' be at Paltesh."
For a time neither girl said more. The big summer stars moved slowly on the sky-Clypsil, Pildinakis and the constellation of the Otter, which Maia remembered old Drigga teaching her how to recognize when she was still a little girl. From the two clock towers the lamps shone out for the hour. A tryzatt carrying a torch came along the wall, changed the sentries and returned the way he had come.
"If you must go, why doan' you take Nennaunir and young Sednil?" asked Occula suddenly. "I know you couldn' pay Nennaunir a fraction of what she's makin' here in Bekla, but you did her such a good turn by gettin' Sednil freed that she probably wouldn' mind-that's to say, long as it didn' take more than a few weeks. They're both Pal-teshis, aren' they? That could be a big help."
"It might have been a good idea," answered Maia.
"But-?"
"There's only one thing wrong with it-"
"Oh, Cran! Doan' tell me!" said Occula instantly. "You mean somethin' about seven inches long, pointin' the wrong direction?"
"Well, yes."
"Bloody, bastin' men!" said Occula angrily. "Always spoilin' everythin' with their stupid-"
"Oh, Occula, that's nothing!" interrupted Maia. "I haven't told you yet about Eud-Ecachlon. And this really is frightening me. You remember I told you how Kembri came to my house while Nan and Otavis were there, and how he sent them away; and then he said that if I didn't want to be misunderstood I ought to find myself a rich, noble husband-"
"Yes, of course I remember. Go on." Occula spoke in a tone of tension and alarm. "What about it?"
"Well, soon after that Eud-Ecachlon came to see me, and asked me to marry him. He said his father was near to die and he'd soon be High Baron of Urtah."
"What did you say?"
"I asked him to give me time to think it over, and that night I got so frightened I decided the next day I'd tell him yes: but then Sednil came back that very morning and told me Zenka was a prisoner at Dari."
"So what happened then?"
"Eud-Ecachlon came back and I refused him."
"Banzi, do you realize- Who's that?" Occula turned quickly towards the stair-head on the opposite side of the flat roof.
"It's I," replied Zuno's smooth, controlled voice. "Occula, I've just learned some news which I think you ought to hear at once: Maia too."
He groped his way across the roof-top, his eyes not yet adapted to the darkness.
"Lalloc learned this an hour ago by a messenger from one of his overseers near Dari. I happened to be down at Lalloc's when the man came in. Apparently Fornis has gone through a ceremony of marriage with Han-Glat. They've raised a force-the man couldn't say how large, but the nucleus, of course, is Palteshi. However, it seems they've been joined by a sizeable group of escaped slaves from Belishba, and the whole lot have already set out for Bekla. Sendekar tried to put some sort of opposition in their way, but he's hopelessly over-extended, of course, and they brushed it aside quite easily. This man said Fornis had given out that since Elvair-ka-Virrion had shown himself incapable of defending Bekla against Erketlis, she meant to do it herself."
"Let her come!" said Occula. "I'm ready! But banzi, listen to me. In all seriousness, and as the best friend you've got, I honestly think that the only place for you now is Quiso. You can claim the sacred sanctuary for six months, you know-if only you can get there."
Maia seemed hardly to have heard her. While Zuno was speaking she had listened to him intently. Now she asked, "The prisoners-the prisoners in the fortress-what's happened to them? Did Lalloc's man say?"
"Yes, he did," replied Zuno. "Fornis and Han-Glat have got all the officers and some of the tryzatts with them as hostages, to make sure that they're not attacked by Karnat in the rear. What's more, it seems that when Durakkon's younger son, who was second-in-command at the fortress, tried to stop them, they took him as a hostage, too. It's
well-known, of course, how fond Durakkon's always been of the boy."
"So Zenka's in the hands of Fornis!" said Maia. "Quiso be damned! I'm staying here till she comes."
Walking away to the further end of the roof, she stood gazing at the comet, arms raised and palms outward. They could hear her sobbing as she prayed.
"Whether Bel-ka-Trazet's right or wrong about Ortelga and the Deelguy," said Kembri, "-and he may very well be right-one thing's certain: we can't compel him to take command of an army."
"I wonder he didn't accept it, though," said Eud-Ecach-lon (well aware that it was not going to be offered to himself). "Defeat Erketlis?
He'd be celebrated throughout the empire and I suppose he'd come by a fortune as well, wouldn't he?"
"Certainly; if he beat him," answered Kembri, "but he doesn't want to run the risk, that's the size of it. I wonder what he knows that we don't. He said he was loyal to Bekla and so he is, I've never doubted-to Bekla. But the truth is, it doesn't make much difference to him or to Ortelga who actually rules here. He's High Baron of that lump of mud in the Telthearna, and he means to hold on to what he can feel sure of. Which is more than we may be able to do, my lord, I dare say," he said, turning to Durakkon, "as things are going at the moment."
Durakkon had been staring out the window. The face he now turned towards the Lord General resembled that of some weary, aging vagabond overtaken by storm and nightfall. It was not apparent whether he had heard what Kembri had said. He nodded, looking at him vacantly for a few moments; then said "Yes, yes, of course," and for a moment buried his face in his hands.
The three were alone together. The High Baron was dressed in a plain gray robe, with no adornment except the Leopard cognizance on a gold chain round his neck. During the last day or two, after learning the news of Fornis's advance with the hostages from Dan, he seemed to have aged ten years. Since the meeting at which Nasada had spoken he had made, in effect, no contribution to public business. To the provincial governors he had spoken no more than courtesy required, and that listlessly and
with an air of indifference to their replies. Despite the personal grief and anxiety which they had in common Kem-bri, who was naturally courageous and stimulated to action by danger and adversity, had found his patience with the High Baron wearing even thinner than usual. Now, by way of emphasis and of rousing him from his dismal preoccupation, he let his fist fall on the table.
"The vital thing," he said, "which we've got to do as quickly as possible, is to defeat Erketlis before he can raise the whole of the south against us. Everything else is secondary-even Bekla itself. For that reason, my lord, I'm going to Lapan at once, to take over the command of the army in person. I shall come back, of course, as soon as possible; that's to say, as soon as Erketlis is dead or no longer a threat."
Durakkon nodded, and Kembri turned back to Eud-Ecachlon.
"There'll be a temptation-" (he did not say to whom) "there'll be a strong temptation, as you'll realize, to retain here the reinforcements coming in from the various provinces, and use them against Fornis. I'm giving you the task of assembling and arming those reinforcements as soon as they arrive, and getting them down to Lapan as fast as possible. Do it efficiently, Eud-Ecachlon, and you won't be a loser by it, I promise you."
"But-er-Fornis?" asked Eud-Ecachlon.
"Fornis and Han-Glat; yes. Now understand this. It's only necessary to hold Fornis up long enough to allow our reinforcements from the provinces to be sent down to me in Lapan. But those four thousand men I've got to have, do you understand?"
Eud-Ecachlon nodded. "But then, what about Bekla?"
"I'm leaving enough regular troops-not many, but they should be enough-to hold Fornis up for about two weeks."
"And after that?"
"You'll occupy the citadel and hold it against Fornis when she takes the city. Once Erketlis is out of the way I shall return immediately and deal with her. She'll be hopelessly outnumbered; she won't have a chance. Anyone but a power-crazy woman would have seen that from the beginning."
Durakkon, who had been tracing patterns with his finger on the table, looked up, unexpectedly alert for a moment.
"Lord General, who have you in mind to command this remnant force which is to delay Fornis?"
"If the plans I've explained have your approval, my lord, as I hope they have, I think it important that you should command it yourself. It'll make all the difference if the men know that the High Baron is leading them in person. I certainly wouldn't ask you to undertake a full campaign at your time of life, but as things are you won't be long in the field: two weeks at the most. Then you'll fall back on the citadel."
"I would prefer not, Lord General."
"My lord, there is no one else of sufficient prestige and standing to put heart into the men."
Durakkon raised his gray, haggard face and stared at Kembri. He had seen less desperate looks, thought the Lord General, on scaffolds.
"You had better understand me, Lord General. I have no objection either to fighting our enemies or to dying in battle. But among those in the hands of that evil woman is my son-"
The Lord General sprang to his feet so violently that the bench on which he had been sitting overturned with a crash. His massive figure, as he bent forward over the table, seemed to obscure the light.
"Your son? Your son, my lord? Do you think you're the only man whose son-"
He was bellowing. Eud-Ecachlon could hear a murmur and stir in the next room, where the senior officers were waiting. He laid a restraining hand on Kembri's arm. The Lord General controlled himself. When next he spoke his voice was almost a whisper.
"I would rather that my son was where your son is now."
Saluting Durakkon, he turned and strode out into the corridor, followed by Eud-Ecachlon. They walked in silence the length of the Barons' Palace and so out into the northern portico overlooking the Leopard Hill's tiered terraces. Here Kembri, with the air of one wishing to convey, by speaking of some relatively slight matter, that he has recovered his self-possession, asked, "By the way, there's been so much to attend to that I forgot to ask what arrangement you've come to with Maia."
Eud-Ecachlon made no reply, and after a moment the Lord General stopped in his walk and looked round at him with a lift of his heavy eyebrows.
"She-refused me."
The eyebrows came down like a portcullis. "Refused you? Gods! What reason did she give?"
"None, really. She just said she didn't want to do it. I feel angry and-well-humiliated, I suppose. She'd have done very well for Urtah, and I entirely agree with all you said when you first put the idea to me."
"That child's been her own worst enemy ever since she came back from Suba," said Kembri. "It's a great pity, for in a way I've always rather liked her. Still, as things have turned out she'll have no time to think better of it. Once Erketlis has been checked and Fornis has been defeated, we can't let her stand in the way of our plans."
"You mean, your plan that Milvushina should be acclaimed?"
Kembri nodded. "That's vital-more than ever, now. Don't you see, if a Chalcon baron's daughter's reigning as Sacred Queen-with our blessing-that'll make it virtually impossible for Erketlis to attack Bekla? She could denounce it in the name of Airtha and his whole position would become extremely difficult, to say the very least."
"So Maia-you'll kill her?"
Kembri hesitated. "Well, she'll have to die, certainly; and soon, too-before the acclamation of the new Sacred Queen. The difficulty is that the least suspicion of murder would make for more trouble than we could handle. Frankly, I've got no time to think, it out at the moment: it will become important later, though."
"But Fornis will be in Bekla before long, won't she?" said Eud-Ecachlon. "Why not leave it to Fornis to kill her? I should think we can rely on that, wouldn't you?"
The Lord General paused, almost as though reluctant to reply. Then he said, "Well-perhaps that may prove to be the answer. Let's wait and see."
78: SUPPER WITH NASADA
Nasada sat facing Maia in the soft lamplight. She could smell the light, honey-like bouquet of the Yeldashay in the goblet at his elbow. She had given him a supper fit for the High Baron and he had obviously enjoyed it. She would have given him her jewels, her house, herself if he had
wanted them. Whatever Ogma's limitations in other directions, thought Maia, thank Cran she could at least cook when she put her mind to it.
She had threaded her hair with more than fifty gold beads and coiled it in plaits round her head (it had taken over an hour), and was wearing her diamonds and a plain, quite unrevealing robe of white and pale-pink silk with a pleated ski
rt, and white leather suppers with a gold leopard on each toe. Against all reason and probability she felt elated and full of confidence. There was that in the mere presence of Nasada which banished anxiety. Looking at him-gnarled and gray-headed, yet robust and infinitely reassuring-she was reminded of some huge-branched old tree of magic properties; such as had been revered time out of mind by Tonildan villagers, on which womenJiung dolls for fertility and bunches of herbs and flowers for the recovery of the sick. You could hang your troubles on him all right: he wouldn't break.
She had refused Eud-Ecachlon: she was probably going to die. (Often, the young face this prospect with more courage and acceptance than the old, for they have more vigor to do it with, little empty time to reflect and less of the past to lose.) Well, let it come. Meanwhile, for the present it fairly warmed her heart to be able at last to show her gratitude to old Nasada and let him see her, just for this once at least, as the Serrelinda, the idol of Bekla and the heroine of the empire. But then again, looking at him, she found her mood changing to one of illogical conviction that of course her troubles would come right, somehow or other. His very existence was like an assurance to this effect.
He broke the silence. "It's nice, isn't it, to see something made by men which is as beautiful, as something made by the gods, and with no more harm in it than a flower or a bird?"
He was holding Randronoth's cabinet of the fishes between his hands, turning it this way and that in the lamplight, admiring it by touch as well as by sight. That was what she used to do herself-she delighted in the feel of it, its smoothness and squared, panelled symmetry-and he had needed no suggestion from her to discover the same pleasure.
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