Mara knew that she was being observed. In this town surveillance was discreet, invisible; she did not believe it was the police who were watching her now. Who, then?
A girl passing with a tray of some kind of yellow drink, put a mug of it down in front of Mara, who was suddenly sure that this mug had been apart from the others, put there for a purpose. She put back the mug on the tray and took another. The girl gave her an offended look. Mara thought, Well, it might have been poisoned, anything is possible. I should go away from here — meaning both this place and Bilma. But having got up, she sat down again, for she had seen Dann coming along the street with Bergos and a new man, a Mahondi — a real one? Yes, he was, like herself and Dann. She liked the look of him as much as she disliked Bergos. The three men sat down at a table well away from her, but she knew Dann had seen her, and was pretending not to. They sat chatting, out of earshot.
Mara could scarcely breathe, the oppression on her heart was so great. Never could she have believed that Dann and she could be in the same place, and he pretend he had not seen her. This cheerful, noisy scene — people drinking and eating, talking and lazing, all under a little ceiling of greenery and flowers — lost its charm, and all she could see were vulgar or foolish faces, and Dann, as he talked with Bergos, seemed no better.
Her heart was hurting, her eyes hurt. Why was she trying so hard to run, always running and fighting so hard for her life and for Dann's life? What for? Now she seemed absurd to herself, this little, frightened fugitive, always glancing over her shoulder, always alert for thieves, guarding Dann or, when he was not there, worrying about him. Mara looked back down her life, from the moment when she had stood up to "the bad one" in her parents' house, and seemed to herself like a scurrying little beetle.
And now the thought arrived in her mind, as she watched Bergos, that the person who had been organising her surveillance — had been Bergos. It was he whom she had to fear. And those who employed him. Who? Dalide? But what could she be hoping to get out of her, apart from a fee as a marriage broker?
Mara thought she would get up, deliberately and slowly, to be noticed, go to where the men sat, smile prettily at all three, talk a little, then refuse their invitation that she should sit down. Then leave. But suppose they did not invite her to sit down? She quietly rose, slipped away through a side door in the leafy screen, and walked as fast as she could to the hill, not looking now to see who observed her. She did not care what happened to her. There were footsteps behind her. From their speed she understood how fast she was walking. Dann caught up with her, and took her arm. She shook him off and walked on. He was beside her. He did not speak until they were at the top of the low hill, where there was a big garden, or park, which on its north side had a tall fence, with guards along it.
"Stop, Mara, let us sit down."
There was a bench. A glance told her that here was "her" Dann, not the other one, as she now called the impostor. He was grave, affable, composed and was smiling at her. He put his hand over hers. "Mara. Don't go on being angry, please."
The angry, protesting thoughts that were filling her mind faded away.
"Who is that Mahondi?"
"His name is Darian. He has just come from Shabis. He has news. But first." He took from an inner pocket a coil of heavy, dull metal, beaten silver, and held it out to her. It was a bangle, but for the upper arm, not the wrist, meant to fit close. It was a serpent, and the head end was slightly raised, to strike. Mara slid it up on to her upper arm, easing it over the elbow joint, and saw how well it looked. Then she let the sleeve fall over it, the lovely sleeve with its delicate, shadowy patterns. "Take it off again." Mara did so. He pressed the tail of the serpent where there was a little indentation, and a knife shot out of its mouth, a mere sliver of glittering metal. Dann pressed again and the knife slid back. "It's poisoned. Immediate death." Then, because of her unease: "Shabis sent it to you."
"A loving present."
"Yes, Mara, it is. He said to Darian that if you had had this when the Hennes patrol captured you, you could have killed them all and escaped."
Mara slid it back up her arm, and let the sleeve fall.
"It's so pretty," said Dann, stroking the sleeve, and through it, her. "And now, there's news, but it isn't good. After we ran away, half of the Hennes army escaped. This is what Shabis told the other three generals would happen. Our army chased their army back to the line of the watchtowers, where the Hennes made a stand. There was a terrible battle. They held their territory. Our army retreated back to our lines. So all that happened was that thousands of people got killed, soldiers and civilians too. Neanthes, Hennes and Thores civilians."
"So everything is exactly as it was?"
"Yes. Stalemate."
"Oh no," she said, rebellious, "no, nothing stays the same." "But it has all been like that for years. What can change it?" "Drought, for one."
"Drought, drought... that's how we see everything, because of what we've seen. But here there isn't going to be drought. Floods are more in Bilma's line."
And now both of them, brother and sister, he still holding her forearm, turned to look down at Bilma spread out there, gardens and houses, parks and houses, fountains everywhere. She heard his sigh. She saw his face change, and instinctively drew her arm away. He did not notice, he was looking over to where the big, pleasant houses spread on the slopes there.
"Mara, why don't we stay here?" She shook her head, and again felt the nets of danger closing around her. "I want to show you something." He pulled her up from the bench, and they walked with their backs to the town to where the tall fence dipped down the other side of the hill. The guards watched them. "Darian showed me this, early this morning. We came here." Where the fence began to descend the hill, they could see through it down to where, at the foot of the hill, was a long, low building, with platforms on either side. Running north from the building were two parallel lines, close together, shining gently in the sunlight. From a platform, something that looked like a long, covered box was in the process of being pushed along the lines by a group of young men. The lines ran north, at first through light forest and then through grassland. The two stood silent, watching how the young men pushing the box laboured, their backs bent. Twenty of them, and then half ran past the box and picked up some ropes, or lines, invisible to them where they stood on the hill, and went ahead, pulling, as the ten behind pushed.
"That is the way out of Bilma," said Dann.
"And who is in that — conveyance?"
"Who do you suppose? Can't you see the guards? The rich use it. Those lines run north to the next town, Kanaz. Once there were machines that ran on their own power on lines like those."
"Once? Oh I suppose the usual thousands of years ago?"
"No. Two or three hundred, they are not sure. But now slaves do the work."
"I didn't know there were slaves in Bilma."
"They aren't called slaves. Mara, Darian wants me to join him as a labourer pushing the coaches — that is what they are called. And when we get to the next town, or the one after — run away." And, before he said it, she knew what she would hear. "I'd rather die, Mara. I've done that, pushing dead machines up and down hills."
"And not long ago you were General Dann." She smiled at him, meaning to tease him a little, but saw his face was dark and angry. Her Dann was not there. This Dann would not take my hand, hold my arm, so simply and nicely, out of affection for me.
"There's something else. Kira came north with Darian. He replaced me in her affections, when I left. Well, he's been after her a long time. Darian is a deserter. So Shabis would have death squads ready for more than one of his officers."
"Dann, I'm sure that Shabis wouldn't."
"Oh, you can be so stupid, Mara. An army has rules. If they caught me I'd be for it. And so would Darian. That means, if people knew here they could get a ransom for us. That is why Darian wants to go North. There is going to be trouble between the Four Generals. Now the three are blaming Shabis
for the mess in Shari. There is a lot of disaffection in the army. If the Generals could have little General Dann and Major Darian publicly executed, it would buck up discipline no end."
He was staring down again. Another of the coaches was being pushed out of it along the lines. "Perhaps Kira is down there. She left Darian as soon as they got here. He was just a means of getting away. I hear she has already got another protector. So she has been here in the same town with me, but I didn't know it. Perhaps I am looking at her now."
"Oh, you do love her," said Mara, but shrank, seeing his face still dark and angry.
"That is how you would have to travel North, Mara. A protector. That's the way it's done, and I would push your coach." He turned, and took her hands, gently. This was not the other one. "I love her, yes. And you shouldn't mind that, Mara, because my heart was as small as a dried bean, before Kira. Like yours is now." Here tears flooded Mara's eyes, thinking of her cold, aching heart. "But when I loved Kira so much, I knew how much I love you. I didn't know it till then. I began to remember. I know how you looked after me and defended me, Mara. And you sang to me, kept Kulik away from me. Kulik is here, I saw him." And then, seeing her face, said, "I tell you, I saw him. You never believe me, do you?" And now, right in front of her was the other one. She felt afraid.
"I was just little Dann. And you were a big girl. We're equal now, though. I want to stay here in Bilma. I want to buy one of those houses..." he turned himself around, pulling her with him. The great, white houses stood shining in their gardens. "I want to live here in a house like that."
"Dann, we don't have the money."
He pressed her robe close in to her so that he could feel the cord of coins nestling there.
"Give me your coins, Mara."
He was gently shaking her, and then not so gently. "Give them to me." "No. You could take them by force."
His face was puckering and twitching, little convulsive tics near the eyes and mouth. It was as if the face of the other one was fighting to hold off the Dann she knew. His eyes were staring, and sombre, his mouth half open — the dreadful little convulsions of the flesh went on.
"I have ten gold coins. Did you know we could buy a house with that? We could settle down — a little house, not one of those. But I know how to get more money, I know I can. And I want yours."
His face was convulsed, briefly, and then it was over. "Right, I can manage without you, Mara. That's it. Now I know where we stand."
"There's just one thing," she attempted feebly. "If you're afraid people here would take you back to Charad to be executed, then you shouldn't stay here."
"I told you, I'm not little Dann any more. I can look after myself." And he was off, running, back into the town. He called back, "Perhaps I shall cut myself open again. That would be another six."
"Don't Dann, don't," she called after him, and heard his derisive call back, "Don't Dann, don't."
She went back to the inn, and asked for food in her room. She could not bear the pressure of hostile inspection, even if she was imagining it. The proprietor only nodded, but his eyes were concerned. Yes, he was one of the ones who liked them — or at least her. She knew Dann would not be in the room, and did not expect him back. He had taken all his things. And he had taken his share of the money Dalide had changed. She lay through the hot hours looking out of the window where the sky blazed hot, and then paled, and then flared into sunset. She did not sleep. She knew something bad was brewing. When there was a knock at the door and the proprietor called to her, she knew what she would hear. "You must go to the Transit Eating House," he said. "Your brother is there." And then, "I'll send a boy with you."
She looked around the room, thinking, What should I take? Suppose I don't come back here? But why should I think that... it's silly. All the same. And she filled her faithful sack with everything she owned.
The proprietor saw the sack, and said, "Pay me what you owe."
"I'm not leaving," she said.
"Pay me."
She paid, and he called for the boy to go with her. She was pleased to have him there, though he was an urchin of ten or so and could not defend her, and she knew his function was to report back to the proprietor what he had seen.
The big room of the Transit was jammed with people, and the noise was like a shout in her ears. She walked through to the gambling room, and there was Dann. He was flushed and wild and laughing. The room was crammed except for the area immediately around the table. Beside the man who handled the dice and the chips, stood the owner of the Transit, a usually genial host, but now he was pale and agitated — as well he might be, for in front of Dann were stacked coins in every possible denomination. A fortune. Dann called to her over the piles of money, "And now who is stupid, Mara? Look at what I've won."
"Now stop," she shouted. "Stop while you've got it." For she could see he meant to go on.
Dann did hesitate. For a few moments time slowed. Dann stood, his face stretched in a triumphant grin. The onlookers' faces were full of warnings and dismay. The big lamp hanging over the table swung gently, making the shadows move. And then Dann put his hands down on his piles of winnings and said to the owner, "I'll go on."
"Don't, please don't," said Mara and he echoed her as he did earlier, "Don't Dann, please don't."
He shook the dice, threw, shook, threw, shook — and let out an exultant yell, and began to dance where he stood. A long pause, while the owner, who was looking ill now, wrote the amount on a piece of wood. And then his name.
Dann held it up, showing it around and then thrust it forwards to Mara.
Now Mara saw Bergos, standing with his back to a wall among a press of people. Well, he would have to be here. Near him was the newcomer, Darian. Bergos was grinning, full of spiteful pleasure, but Darian was sober and concerned. Mara looked beseechingly at him. He shrugged. But then he did squeeze his way through and laid his hand on Dann's shoulder. He said something to him in a low voice. While this man whom he regarded as a friend spoke to him, Dann's face twitched and grimaced because of the conflict in him, but he shook Darian off. He stood with his hands held just above the great heap of wealth in front of him. There was so much there that people's mouths fell and they stared, looking at it. Dann's face was now a medley of emotion: he was scared, but intended to be defiant, and he nodded for the dice. He stood with his hand poised over the shaker, and at that last moment he could have stopped, and been safe, but he was driven and, his lips held tight to contain their twitching, he threw. And lost, as he was bound to.
The owner went swiftly forward and scooped all Dann's late winnings into a bag. One moment the table was piled, the next empty.
Dann stood smiling foolishly. It was absolutely silent in that room.
"I haven't finished," he said.
Mara knew that he meant the six gold pieces under his scar, but at that moment Bergos said softly, "You could stake your sister." There was a groan, or a moan, around the room.
Dann said, "I'll stake Mara. I'll stake my sister." Darian again put his hand on Dann's shoulder and it was shaken off. "Don't worry, Mara," called Dann, but now his grin was foolish and weak, and his hand shook. "This is my winning night."
Again Darian attempted to stop him, but Bergos had come forward and stood beside Dann. Dann reached for the shaker and the dice — threw, and lost.
And now Dann howled; he howled like a dog, and pulled his hair with both hands, and moaned, "Mara, Mara, Mara."
But already Mara felt a hand on either of her arms, and she was being turned around, and then pushed out through the people, and then into the big room, where they had heard of the drama being played out in the gambling room, and were standing to watch her being pushed through, but fell back, away from the touch of this unfortunate one. In the street she was not surprised to see on one side of her the grinning face of Bergos. The other man she did not know.
She was thinking of Dann as she was hustled through the streets. Dann had gambled away all his money, including
the six gold coins. What is he going to do? Is he going to cut out the others? Without anyone to help him?
It was not far to where they were going. She asked, "What is this house?" And Bergos said, "Dalide's house."
She thought, If she wanted me why didn't she just kidnap me? She said to Bergos, "Wouldn't it have been easier to just capture me?"
"Against the law," he said.
They were in a large, dimly lit hall. Ahead hung a voluminous dark red curtain.
"Not against the law to gamble a woman away," she said, and found herself being pulled through the curtain's large folds; and she was in a large, brightly lit room full of women, and girls, most fancifully dressed and some half naked. They stared at Mara. Their faces, their eyes, were some curious, some resentful. There was the smell of poppy. At this point the man she did not know dropped her arm, and went off to where a big, ugly man lounged near a wall, guarding the women. The two conferred, watching as Bergos pushed her through a door into a sober and dark corridor, where stairs went up. These she ascended, while Bergos held tight to her arm. At the top was another corridor, and Bergos pushed her into a room, and she heard the door lock as he shut it.
It was a large room, well furnished, with pleasant colours, not like the room where the women were downstairs. There was a wide, low bed in a recess, a round table, and chairs that were carved and cushioned. She had not seen furniture like this, nor ornamental lamps, nor a floor covered with soft rugs, since she was in Shabis's house. But she felt that the room was closing around her and she ran to the window and pushed back heavy curtains. Outside was the sky, a glitter of stars, and beneath her a shadowy garden; and there was a small fire and around it men crouched. She could hear them talking, in low voices, but she did not know what language they used.
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