Dismissing the boy, she walked on down the hill. Since she could see no gate in the garden wall facing her, she rounded the right angle and followed it down its length to the shore. Still there was no gate, but the wall came to an end some yards short of the water's edge, and she walked round it onto the lawn. Not far off was one of the water-carriers, white-bearded, stooping and gnarled, with a wide, flat straw hat on his head.
"I've come to see the saiyett Almynis. Will it be all right to go up to the house?"
He squinnied up at her, old eyes peering out of a crumbling dwelling-as it were from far away-at youth and beauty which once, perhaps, he might have hoped to attain. Not any more. Not now.
"Whynot?"
She gave him five meld, at which the poor old fellow uttered an exclamation, touched it to his forehead and called down a blessing on her. She went on between the trees and shrubs with their smell of moist greenery. Glittering gnats were darting among them and butterflies fanned their wings on the stones. The double doors giving on the garden were louvred like the shutters, made of sestuaga wood, very light and delicate andfastenedwithabronzechain. Shewasabout, to knock when she saw, standing on a little, round table beside the door, a copper hand-bell. It was made in the form of four naked girls facing outwards and arching their bodies, hands raised above their heads to meet round the handle- an erect zard carved in some dark, smooth wood. Wouldn't Nennaunir just about fancy one of those? she thought; and forthwith picked it up and rang it. Like a sheep-bell it was not resonant, but gave off a hollow, cloppering sound, which somehow went with the hot afternoon. She held it up and looked inside, expecting the tongue to be another zard: however, it turned out to be a boy and girl clasped in each other's arms. She had just replaced it on the table when the chain was drawn and the doors opened by an enormous man-the biggest she had ever seen in her life, exceptfor King Karnat. The chucker-out, she thought: these places always employed a strong fellow.
He certainly was an intimidating sight, bare-armed, barefooted and muscled like an ogre. She only just restrained herself from raising her palm to her forehead.
"I've come to see the saiyett Almynis," she said.
"She's expocting you?" He spoke like Lalloc-like a Deelguy.
" Agirl called Mesca told Almynis I was coming."
"You com in." He stood aside.
She stepped into a big, cool room. There were couches covered with bright rugs and cushions, a long dining-table with benches on either side and a central pool with a fountain; but the fountain was still. All the windows were shuttered against the sun, except for one, a dazzling rectangle on
the far side of a couple of steps leading up into a little colonnade at the other end of the room.
"You waitinghere. Itollher."
She began wandering about the room, admiring the fittings and furniture, most of which looked new. One wall was decorated with a series of licentious pictures, another with a charming painting of swans alighting on a lake.
All of a sudden Maia stopped short. On a small, lacquered table against the wall stood a little cluster of ornaments and pretty artifacts-a pair of candle-snuffers made like a silver dragon, the corn-sheaves of Sarkid carved in Ortelgan zil-tate, a golden filigree sweet-box and so on. Arhong these was a little carving, in greenstone, of two goats mating. One exactly like it, she remembered, had had its place on the edge of the fountain in Sencho's dining-hall. She had once asked where it came from and been told from some foreign land beyond Yelda.
She would never have imagined there could be two such. She stepped forward and was j ust going to pick it up when she realized that the huge bodyguard had returned and was standing at her elbow. Without speaking he gestured towards the unshuttered window behind her;
She looked across the room. The dark shape of a woman, looking out of the window, was outlined against the light. She must have entered without a sound from somewhere along the colonnade. Maia crossed the room, went up the steps and raised her palm to her forehead.
"Saiyett Almynis, thank you very much for letting me-"
The woman turned. "Hallo, Maia."
For a moment Maia stared; then, with a cry, she recoiled, clutching with one hand at the painted column behind her.
"Terebinthia!"
99: A HARD BARGAIN
Maia's fear upon recognizing Terebinthia was, of course, instantaneous and irrational. During her months in Sencho's house it had been second nature to all the girls to regard Terebinthia, even in her moods of relative amiability, as the very embodiment of ruthless cunning, a woman out for her own interests and nothing else. What happened
to girls who did not suit those interests had been exemplified by Meris. Occula, maturing her secret, desperate design day after day, had feared Terebinthia as she had never feared Sencho. Terebinthia's lack of all kindness, warmth or humor, her self-contained vigilance, her minacious domination over the household, the impossibility of ever hearing her coming or of guessing how much she really knew-all these had created an atmosphere which would certainly not have obtained if the saiyett had been someone like Sessendris. Maia had not, of course, seen Terebinthia since the evening when she and Occula had set out with Sencho for the party by the Barb. Small wonder, then, that in the first moment that she recognized her, it did not immediately occur to her that a great deal had happened since they had last been together. The most frightening thing about Terebinthia had always been that you never knew where she would be next; and of that there could scarcely have been a more startling instance than now.
As Maia stood breathing hard, one hand against the column at her back, Terebinthia, all serenity, took two steps forward and, smiling, embraced her. Then she gestured towards a curtained opening a little way up the corridor-the one through which she must have entered.
"We'll go to my room. I hope this is as pleasant a surprise for you, Maia, as it is for me. Somehow, when Mesca told me, I had an idea it might be you."
If Maia could have fled from the house she would: have done so; but somehow it was still not in her power to resist the smooth domination which Terebinthia had always exercised. Having recovered a little from her initial shock, she was doing her best to tell herself that she no longer had any reason to be afraid of Terebinthia. On the contrary, she had cause-yes, of course she had cause-to be glad that the woman she had come to see had turned out to be an old acquaintance with every reason to feel well-disposed towards her. Lespa's stars! Enough of the money she'd made had found its way into Terebinthia's pocket: and she'd always been obedient and cooperative and never done Terebinthia any harm.
And yet she was afraid. The Terebinthia she had known had never been kind or generous to anyone. Always in dealing with her there had been apprehension, an atmosphere of cat-and-mouse; and it had not evaporated-not
as far as Maia was concerned. But she's no longer got the power! thought Maia desperately. She hasn't got the power like she used to. She's no more saiyett now than what I am. Yet even as she tried to impress this on herself her misgiving grew. This acquaintance she had rediscovered was no friend, had never been a friend. " "Well, I certainly never could have guessed that Almynis would turn out to be you," she replied, in a tone as light and genial as she could manage. "Never even entered my head! You've certainly got a nice place here. Gave me a surprise: I mean, in Nybril-well, it's rather out of the way, isn't it?" '
"Perhaps," agreed Terebinthia, "but that has its advantages for me, as I'm sure you must realize."
Opening a door on their left, she gestured to Maia to enter. Maia found herself in a small sitting-room, pleasantly cool, with a floor of pale-green tiles, two couches, a table with benches and a wide window, west-facing and shuttered. The tiles were dappled by sunlight through the louvres.
"Sit down, Maia," said Terebinthia. "You must have had a hot walk from Nybril. We'll have some wine and you Can relax a little."
She had seldom felt less relaxed, thought Maia. Terebinthia went to the door and called. Maia (who had not sat down, but
remained standing tensely in the middle of the room) heard a girl's voice responding. Returning, Terebinthia looked at Maia with an air of mild surprise, paused a moment and then, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, sat down herself.
"You're looking well, Maia. Renown evidently suits you. You've done very well for yourself, haven't you? Or ought I perhaps to say you were doing well for yourself? I wonder what may have brought you here?"
Her broad, sleepy-eyed, dark-complexioned face regarded Maia intently, very like a cat indeed, and she leaned back, spreading her arms along the top of the couch as she waited for Maia's answer.
To Maia there seemed no point in beating about the bush.
"I left Bekla because Queen Fornis tried to murder me."
Terebinthia nodded, rather as though Maia had told her that she had decided to travel for her health.
"Are you alone here, then?"
"No: I'm with Bayub-Otal of Urtah and a Katrian officer of King Karnat."
Terebinthia raised her eyebrows. "A Katrian officer? And Bayub-Otal, you say? I thought he'd been killed in the fighting at Rallur."
"No: they were both prisoners in Bekla, but the three of us were able to get away."
There was a tap at the door and a fair, slight girl, who looked no more than eleven, dressed in tawdry finery like Mesca, came in with a tray-a wine-flask and cups, ser-rardoes and a plate of prions. Terebinthia remained silent while she set down the tray and left them. Maia, whom the child had rather reminded of Kelsi, was unable altogether to contain her feelings.
"Isn't she rather young for-for the work here?"
"She is young, of course," replied Terebinthia smoothly, "but she's shaping well, I'm glad to say, and learning quickly."
She poured the wine and handed Maia her cup. Suddenly, Maia was overcome with a terrible conviction that the wine must be poisoned. Don't be silly, she thought; why should she poison you? Well, to please Fornis and reinstate herself. For envy. For what she can get.
"Bayub-Otal knows I've come here today, of course," she said.
"Of course," replied Terebinthia; and drank. Maia sipped too, staring down into the cup. It looked like ordinary wine-she could see no discoloration-and there was no unusual taste. She helped herself to a prion and nibbled it. Her hand was trembling, but perhaps Terebinthia had not noticed.
"And how's dear Occula?" asked Terebinthia suddenly, putting down her cup.
"Occula? Oh-oh, she's fine," answered Maia. "That's to say, she was when I come away."
Terebinthia waited inquiringly, allowing it to be clear that she knew that Maia must know that this was not an adequate reply.
"She was arrested after the High Counselor's murder, of course-"
"You both were, weren't you?" said Terebinthia.
"-only Queen Fornis took a fancy to her, see, and she's been with her ever since."
"Queen Fornis? And yet you say she tried to kill youl"
"Well, thing was, she thought I was out to be Sacred Queen, see; but I wasn't."
"No, of course not; because you and Occula were working for the heldril all along, weren't you? You contrived the murder of the High Counselor between you."
There was no disguising, now, the malice in Terebin-thia's eyes. The Serrelinda, however-now that it was out in the open-was equal to looking steadily back at her.
"I had nothing whatever to do with it, Terebinthia. I didn't know anything about it until it happened."
"Well, of course I must take your word for that, mustn't I?" '
"You can. I'll be perfectly frank with you: I'm not sorry he died, but I had nothing to do with it."
"And Occula?"
"I've no idea."
"Come, come, Maia. You and she were inseparable. You're telling me she told you nothing?"
"She'd nothing to tell, Terebinthia, that's why. Had, she'd 'a told me; I agree with you that far."
"It's important to me, you see," went on Terebinthia. "I've got a lot to thank them for, those who killed Sencho. I was under suspicion of having had to do with it myself; I knew that. As if I could have had any motive for wanting him dead! He was worth a fortune to me. But I wasn't going to wait to be condemned by the Council. So I had to forfeit everything and leave Bekla at once."
"Is that why you left?"
"Of course. But I could never have succeeded if Elvair-ka-Virrion hadn't paid me very generously in return for letting him take Milvushina away the day after the murder. He got me out of the upper city in disguise, with everything valuable I could carry. Why else do you think I'm here with a false name in a place like this, instead of Ikat or Herl-Belishba? So you see I've very little reason indeed to feel friendly towards those who killed Sencho."
Maia, who was now beginning to feel really frightened, gazed back at her silently.
"And now you know, don't you, where I am? You could tell anyone you wanted to. I confess that worries me rather, Maia."
Had there been something in the wine? Maia's head was swimming. The room seemed like a little box, over which was brooding an enormous presence; the forest-giant of
Purn, the gigantic doorman-they were one and the same. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. She must retain an outward appearance of self-possession.
"Poor Milvushina's dead, you know."
"Milvushina? How?"
Maia told her, restraining her tears with some difficulty.
"I see," said Terebinthia. "I heard about Durakkon; and I knew about the battle, of course. News comes down the river with the rafts. But I didn't know about Milvushina. And so Queen Fornis has taken Bekla, has she?"
"That's more than I can tell you, Terebinthia. When we got away, her Palteshis were still fighting it out with the Lapanese."
"So now-you're here," continued Terebinthia ponder-ingly, "and looking for work, so Mesca said. You need money, Maia, do you?"
"No, I didn't come here for money, actually."
But clearly Terebinthia did not mean to permit any interruption to the delicious moment of springing the mousetrap.
"I'm not at all sure-" she stood up, walked slowly across to the window and made some minute adjustment to the louvres "-really-" she returned and sat down again "-whether I ought to allow you to leave this house alive."
"Why ever would that be then, saiyett?" Involuntarily, Maia's voice had risen. "I told you, you've no reason to be revenged on me."
"Perhaps not; but then you know now, don't you, where I'm to be found? And the Leopards would like to learn that."
She wants me to plead for my life. She wants me to go about to convince her there'd be no point in killing me. Reckon I'll have to, an' all.
"But Terebinthia, I'm not going back to Bekla-ever."
"So you say now; but one never knows. And people can still talk, even though they may not actually be in Bekla; and news can travel."
"But everyone reckons Erketlis is sure to beat Kembri and take Bekla."
"Perhaps, Maia, perhaps. And do you think Erketlis is any more likely than Fornis to feel kindly disposed towards Sencho's former saiyett?"
"If you was to kill me, saiyett, that'd be proper bad for you. Bayub-Otal and Zen-Kurel, they both know I'm here,
and so do the folks at 'The White Roses.' But what's more, I'm under the protection of Lord Elleroth of Sarkid. I did him a good turn, see, and only day before yesterday he give us an officer and twenty soldiers to escort us here."
"Oh, it will be an accident, Maia, of course: a most unfortunate accident. You fell in the river. You slipped on the stairs. There'll be witnesses. We shall all be heartbroken." She smiled. "That's why your wine isn't poisoned. You thought it might be, didn't you?"
Somehow, somewhere, Maia could sense the existence of a loophole. A loophole. Terebinthia had some purpose. There was something, something that she was waiting for, hoping to hear. At this moment her threat was half real and half a cruel game. It was up to her victim to tip it one way or the, other. She had to come up with some good reason why the balance of advantage
for Terebinthia lay in not stopping her mouth.
"Saiyett" (she couldn't help it now) "there's one thing you're wrong about. I didn't come here to ask you for work, and I don't need your money."
"Really, Maia?" That had caught her attention all right.
"No. My friends and I want to reach Katria by going down the river. That's why we came to Nybril-to buy a boat. But tell you the truth, it's not turning out all that easy."
"Well?"
"Well, Mesca said as you had boats. I come to see whether I could buy one off you."
It was plain that this was something new and unexpected: it had taken Terebinthia by surprise. So Maia was not penniless? There was more to be gained here than the satisfaction of killing her? Terebinthia had always been a great one for money. That was what she lived for.
Her next remark came pat as an echo. "You have money, then?"
"Well, not all that much, but enough to pay a fair price for a boat, I reckon. I haven't got it here, though. It's with my friends in Nybril."
"And what makes you think I'd be likely to part with a boat?"
"The rains are coming, saiyett. I reckon whatever your clients do during Melekril, they don't baste in boats. Turn one of your boats back into money, use that money to
make more and get another boat run down from Yelda in the spring. I'd be doing you a good turn."
"You always were a shrewd little thing, Maia. I had hopes of you once. It's a pity those days are gone."
She was silent, meditating. "You say you're making for Katria?"
"Yes."
"And staying there for good?"
"I'm not coming back, Terebinthia. And I shan't tell anyone that Almynis of Nybril used to be Sencho's saiyett. Why should I? What good would it do me?"
"Well." Terebinthia drummed her fingers lightly on the table. "Well." For the second time she stood up. "We'll go down and look at the boats, Maia, if you like."
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