Maia

"I wish you'd sing one of them for us later on," said Sarget, taking her arm to lead her to her place. "We seldom hear country music in Bekla, you know, and when we do it never really sounds genuine-not as it would on Lake Serrelind, I'm sure."

"Oh, but I've no voice, U-Sarget," answered Maia smilingly. " 'Sides, I don't know as I could just remember any of those old songs now; though I dare say if I was swimming in the lake they'd come back easy enough."

"Then we must get you swimming in the lake-or a lake," said Sarget. "The Barb, perhaps-"

"Good evening, Maia," said a voice behind them.

It was Bayub-Otal. Maia had not noticed him among the guests, and it had certainly not occurred to her that he might be a friend of Sarget. However, from the obvious pleasure with which Sarget now greeted him, this was evidently the case. He was wearing a plain, gray robe, without ornament, and round his neck a heavy, silver chain of striking workmanship, the individual links fashioned to resemble reed-clusters, rippling pools, willows, fish, waterfowl and the like. Sarget, smiling, raised a finger to touch it.

"I'm one person who's glad to see you're not afraid to wear a chain like that in Bekla."

"There is no chain like that," replied Bayub-Otal, returning his smile.

"I don't doubt it," said Sarget. "It's an heirloom, I suppose?

"My father had it made for my mother."

"I never had the luck to see her, but I've often heard tell of her. Well," went on Sarget, "here's the young lady you asked us to make sure of. Elvair-ka-Virrion can usually get what he wants if he puts his mind to it."

"I'm indebted to him-and to you. By the way, your spring hymn was really excellent-too good for the audience, perhaps. You should keep work like that for your friends in private. But we're delaying the others, aren't we?" And indeed those round them were clearly waiting only for their host to take his place. Sarget, bowing to Maia as though she had been a baron's wife, turned and went to his seat, leaving her with Bayub-Otal.

Here was a nice damned state of basting affairs! she

thought angrily. Terebinthia had told her that Elvair-ka-Virrion had asked for her and Milvushina to go to a party. She had said nothing about Bayub-Otal. But then, she thought, in all probability Terebinthia had not known herself. Elvair-ka-Virrion would not have said anything. In the ordinary way Occula might have guessed at the likely truth of the situation and pointed it out, but then she, of course, had not been herself last night.

Maia strove to control her disappointment. She had been simple enough to suppose that Elvair-ka-Virrion must want her again for himself. She might have realized that what was in fact going to be required of her was to continue her work on Bayub-Otal. And Nennaunir had remarked that she must be glad to get away from the High Counselor for a while! If only Nennaunir knew! she thought. She would actually have preferred Sencho, restored to his normal appetites and ready for the attentions of his favorite, than an evening with this cold, embittered Urtan who seemed- perhaps because no Beklan ladies of birth would consort with him-only to want to treat her as something she was not. Still, if she wanted to go on making progress in Kem-bri's good graces she had better get down to her job.

"You asked for me to come here tonight, my lord?" she said, leaning back on her arm and smiling up into his face.

"I hope you're not sorry," he answered. "Between ourselves, it's not the kind of occasion I care for much, but Sarget's one of the few people in Bekla whom I regard as a friend. I didn't want to refuse, and I thought if anyone could help me to enjoy it, it would be you."

"I'm going to see to it as you do, my lord."

It did not, in fact, prove such very hard work. The excellent dinner and wine, the luxurious surroundings, the friendly amiability of Nennaunir and others, Maia's confidence in her own beauty and the desire she obviously excited in everyone, it would seem, except Bayub-Otal: these were more than enough to enable her to feel not unkindly towards him. She'd got the measure of him now, she thought, well enough. He didn't know what to do with a girl, but none the less-poor, disappointed loser-like anyone else he wanted to be able to show one to the world: and even apart from her own interests with Kembri, her easiest course was to try to get on with him as well as she could. Irritation might come easily to Maia, but her natural good nature did not readily admit of sustained dislike.