Maia

"Where he went to and why-is it just that you want me to find out, my lord?"

"As much as you can: anything he'll tell you; his hopes, his plans. He may be innocent; but we think not."

"I wonder you don't have him killed, then, my lord. You easy could if you wanted, I suppose." This was insolence and meant to be. She was speaking sardonically, out of a peasant's well-founded resentment against all callous rulers and oppressors. He answered her seriously, however.

"Kill the love-child of the High Baron of Urtah? They hate us enough as it is. That would bring the whole place round our ears." Again came the grim smile. "His father loves him, Maia, even if you don't."

"Can you tell me any more about him, my lord?"

"I'm deliberately not going to tell you anything at all: then you can't reveal, can you, that you know more than if you were completely innocent? He didn't want to bed with you at the party. He may change his mind later, or he may not. For our purposes it doesn't matter. You may not know this, Maia, but a few men, here and there, prefer a girl who doesn't fall on her back straight away-even a slave. Perhaps he wants to believe you're pure at heart. If you decide, when you've got to know him better, that that's what he wants, you must do all you can to go along with it. I can't tell you how to win his confidence. You're the woman, not I." He paused. "Well, now you know that he means to see you again, and you've heard what I want you to do. How do you feel about it?"

Maia had in fact been recalling the contempt with which Bayub-Otal had spoken to her. "Are you learning your trade?" "You'll get no lygol out of me." Remembering her mortification, she felt herself once more full of annoyance. Why ever should Bayub-Otal want to see her

again? She neither knew nor cared. She could not choose but do this work for the Lord General, but she would much prefer to find herself in a straightforward sexual situation, with a normal man whom she could understand. If only, she thought, it had been Eud-Ecachlon they had wanted her to find out about.

She raised her eyes. "All I was thinking, my lord, is that if you're looking for a girl as'll make him forget himself- I mean, strike him as young and innocent, the way you said-then I know one as'd likely do much better for the job than me."

"I'm the one to decide that, Maia, not you," replied Kembri.

Now she'd angered him, she thought. She looked down into her cup, swirling the wine in the bowl and wondering whether or not to go on. In the silence she could hear the rain beating in gusts against the stones of the tower outside.

"Who is this girl?" asked the Lord General at length.

"Her name's Milvushina, my lord. She's with me in the High Counselor's household."

"And what makes you think she'd do better than you for Bayub-Otal?"

"Because she's a baron's daughter, my lord."

"A baron's daughter? A bed-girl in Sencho's household? What do you mean? How did he come by her?"

"You mean you don't know, my lord?"

There was no question of him thinking her impudent now. The startled sincerity of her question carried its own conviction.

"You'd better tell me, Maia. Whose daughter is she?"

"Enka-Mordet's, my lord; the baron you killed in Chal-con."

At this he stared. It was obvious that he knew nothing of Milvushina. She told him all that she had learned, together with an account of how she and Occula had found Milvushina at Sencho's upon their return from Elvair-ka-Virrion's party, and of the way in which Milvushina had borne her affliction since then.

"We heard, my lord, as you'd told your men to bring her back for the High Counselor."

"Did you indeed?" replied Kembri. "Well, one day I may decide to see this girl for myself. Meanwhile, you can take it from me that she wouldn't do for this work with Bayub-Otal. There's a particular reason why you've been

selected. When you succeed in finding out what it is, you'll know you're well on the way to success."

This was baffling; but the Lord General said no more by way of explanation. For some little time he remained standing with his back to her, looking out at the rain. Maia, having drained her cup, tilted it in her hand and sat tracing the serpent pattern with one finger. Twilight was falling, but despite her disappointment over the way the afternoon had turned out, she felt in no hurry to return to Sencho's. The red glow of the stove seemed inviting her to linger before its warmth and let the wine finish its work.