Maia

From time to time her eyes wandered to the next table, where Elvair-ka-Virrion was sitting near Sarget. Milvu-shina was beside him, and it was clear enough that he was enjoying her company. The Chalcon girl had resumed her habitual, grave demeanor and appeared to be doing little more than reply courteously to his remarks and questions. Maia could not help thinking that her somber self-possession became her very well; Elvair-ka-Virrion obviously thought so too, for he continued talking to her almost exclusively, apparently making every effort to suit his manner to her own. Once or twice-half-reluctantly, as it seemed-she smiled in response.

S'pose she reckons she's back among her own sort, thought Maia; and for a time, jealousy and resentment overcame her. Yet soon these, like her earlier annoyance, were at least to some extent dispelled by simple enjoyment and absorption in her surroundings.

The truth was that this evening Maia was beginning for the first time to grasp something of the difference between style and the mere show of opulence. This, not surprisingly, was a matter to which she had never previously given thought, since neither one nor the other had been exactly plentiful along the shores of Lake Serrelind. Now, she unexpectedly found herself contrasting the hall about her with the rooms in Sencho's house. Upon her arrival she had been surprised to see so few obviously precious things displayed. Sencho's two halls, as well as the garden-room, were full of hangings, furniture, statues and ornaments-many from the houses of enemies and victims-the costliness of which was plain enough. It suddenly occurred to Maia to wonder whether he would notice if some of them were stolen; and whether Terebinthia might in fact have sold a few without his knowledge. Be that as it might, it crossed her mind (in the act of gnawing a roast duck leg) that clearly someone-presumably Sarget himself-must have given careful thought to the appearance of this hall as a whole, and that his aim had been a display less of wealth than of restrained and congruent beauty and harmony. Restraint, she now realized, was not necessarily a sign of indigence. The purpose and effect of the moist ferns and varied green wall-hangings-however much or little they might have cost-were simply to provide a relatively unobtrusive yet appropriate setting for the guests' own magnificence-for Elvair-ka-Virrion's black-and-crimson,

silver-tasselled abshay, Nennaunir's night-blue robe and Bayub-Otal's unique silver chain.

Even more strongly than the decoration of the hall, however, the music made Maia aware of a difference in quality between Sencho's pleasures and those of Sarget and his friends. The very notion of music was so alien to the atmosphere of the High Counselor's household that it had never before even entered Maia's head to think of it as a deficiency. She would as readily have thought of missing the stars from a cellar. Yet it now struck her that obviously Sencho, if he wished, could well afford musicians as good as.these; and thereupon she realized also, not only that he did not want them-that music meant nothing to him- but also that this insensitivity could not really be attributed solely to the poverty and hardship of his origins; for Thar-rin, if he were somehow or other to become rich, would certainly take pleasure in having his own musicians: so, probably, would Zuno. She began to perceive more clearly why so many of these people despised Sencho even while they feared him and perforce afforded him the show of respect.

Smiling and conversing with Bayub-Otal, teasingly or otherwise as the mood took her (for Maia's conversational style knew little of reserve or convention), she was nevertheless almost continuously aware of the softly plangent, bitter-sweet tone of the hinnaris interweaving, darting here and there like swallows, back and forth in a patterned harmony above the dark water of the drums. In her fancy the intermittent flutes became gleams of light, the soft crescendos of the zerda and derlanzel a distant rustling of leaves. The minor, repeated phrases of the Paltesthi rogan which they were playing seemed infinitely vivid and compelling, moving her almost to tears. Bayub-Otal, she sensed, felt this also, and was aware that she felt it too; for gradually his conversation ceased and he sat unspeaking, gazing into his wine-cup and silently-almost imperceptibly-following the rhythm of the drums with his finger-tips. Once, turning his head, he caught Maia's eye with a half-smile and she, her task of pleasing him become that much easier, smiled back and for an instant rubbed her shoulder against his.

At this moment, once more catching sight of Milvushina, she was surprised to find herself thinking how beautiful she looked. Her great, dark eyes and delicate, olive-skinned