Maia

Sometimes Dyphna or the Tonildan girl would take Oc-cula's place, but at such times he was disturbed and fretful, for he felt at the mercy of shadows-had she conjured them?-and dared not let her be absent for long, his enigmatic comforter. All was paradox. "I am bewitched: I am not my own master," he once broke out suddenly to Terebinthia. Yet when she asked him what he meant, he was not aware that he had spoken but, queasy and restless, merely told her that he felt disinclined for supper tonight, and once more fell asleep, to dream of Occula, transformed to Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, preserver and destroyer, floating with him upon dark water towards some undisclosed destination of voluptuous enjoyment and impending menace.

Bayub-Otal drained his goblet, gestured for it to be refilled and leaned back in his chair, smiling at Maia across the table. His face, in the candlelight, was flushed and a few drops of sweat glistened at his temples. During dinner the room, which was not large, had become too warm. Now that the shutters had been opened to cool it, they could hear that the rain had slackened. Light gusts of wind were blowing and the air smelt fresh. In the colonnade, below, a girl's voice, soliciting, spoke to some passer-by, who replied sharply and presumably walked on. The exchange gave Maia a pleasant sense of satisfaction. Even if she did not care for Bayub-Otal's company, at all events she was not plying for hire on the streets of the lower city.

They had dined well, in a private room at "The Green Grove", a well-known tavern situated on the north side of the Caravan Market. "The Green Grove" catered not only for prosperous traders and merchants but also, on demand, for aristocratic customers prepared to pay for the best food and wine. During Melekril there was little in the way of custom from provincial traders and the like, and Bayub-Otal's small party-himself, Haubas, Ka-Roton and three girls-had had the benefit of the best cooking and service the house could provide. Maia, who still could not

take for granted the marvel of unlimited, delicious food, had not allowed her task of cutting up Bayub-Otal's meat to interfere with doing the fullest justice to the hare soup, baked carp, stuffed lamb and succeeding dishes, and was now sitting alone with Bayub-Otal over mulled wine, figs and thrilsa. She was glad the other Urtans had taken their girls upstairs for a time, since both-strangers to her- were prosperous shearnas a good six or seven years older than she, and neither had shown herself particularly friendly to the sixteen-year-old slave-girl. "Why couldn't he have let us bring Actynnis?", she had heard one of them whisper. "She was dying to come." "Little slave-girls are cheaper," giggled the other, but broke off as Maia leant across to ask her for the salt.

"Did you enjoy the dinner?" asked Bayub-Otal, fanning himself with a fig leaf pulled from the basket.

"Very much, my lord," replied Maia. Then, making no attempt to suppress a belch, she laughed and added, "That's how much!"

"You'll never grow up to be a shearna at that rate."

Her task, she reminded herself, was to appear as simple and innocent as possible.

"P'raps I don't want to be a shearna."

"What would you like to be?"

Maia paused, smiling at him between the candle-flames. "There were four of us girls back home: I was the eldest, but dare say Kelsi'll be married now 'fore ever I am."

Bayub-Otal made no answer and she went on, "I told you how I used to swim in the lake-oh, sometimes for hours. It was lovely."

He pushed the candlesticks to one side, so that the light no longer lay directly between them.

"When you told me you belonged to the High Counselor, I was in two minds whether to see you again."

"It's not my fault, my lord, if I belong to the High Counselor. Fin still the same girl."

"The same girl as whom?"

"As swum in the lake."

"You won't be for long if you stay in his household. You tell him all you get to hear, I suppose-you and your black friend. That's the other use he has for you. Very serviceable, I'm sure."

A more experienced girl would have passed over the

taunt. Maia felt nettled and showed it, for he had, of course, come close to the truth.

"We're not spies, my lord; we're his household girls. I shan't go telling him anything you say. If you don't believe me, why do you want my company?"

He walked across the room and closed the shutters on the dripping darkness outside. Then, turning to the slave who had waited on them and pressing a couple of coins into his hand, he said, "Bring us in some more mulled wine. After that you may go."

"You're angry," he said, when the door had closed.

"Don't make much difference, my lord, does it, whether I am or not? I'm here to do as you like."

He cracked and peeled a nut with his left hand.