Maia

"No, and you wouldn' dare, you squitterin' cockroach; but you thought you'd get away with havin' a bit of fun on the side, didn' you, with this poor little banzi, on account of you picked her up by chance, I suppose, and she's not on a list yet-Lalloc's or anyone else's. Think I doan' know your cunnin' little ways, you pox-faced rat? But worse, you woke me up! Just when I'd managed to get to sleep in this crawlin' pigsty-I'm bitten like a dog already-I'm woken up by snivellin' cesspits like you, tryin' to rape helpless little girls. You crawlin' lump of offal, I suppose you think Lalloc's goin' to think that's the way for his shearnas to make a good start-to be terrified and force-basted by menstrual turds like you?" She paused. "Well, do you? 'Cos I'm goin' to tell him, no danger."

Her voice, easy and controlled, dominated the room as a curlew's a hillside. It was as though Genshed had inadvertently opened a trap, thereby causing her foul language to come pouring over himself in a smooth, mephitic stream.

A silence fell. Occula, having waited for Genshed's reply long enough to make it clear that there would be none, turned her back on him. The candle, already burned low, began to gutter.

"Right," said the girl at length, "Megdon, will you please bring two fresh candles into my room? As for you-whatever your name is-I could make you wash this girl and clean her up, only she wouldn't care to be touched by a disgustin' worm like you; so I'll just oblige you and do it myself. Go and get me some hot water with herbs in it, and a clean towel. And doan' be long, either."

"Fire's out," muttered Genshed. "Middle of the night, ennit?"

"Then light it again, baste you," replied the black girl, without turning round. "And you, banzi," she said, turning to Maia with a sudden flash of white teeth, "you'd better come in next door with me; come on!"

She held out a pale-palmed hand. Maia, hardly knowing what she did, grasped it and went where she was led.

7: A FRIEND IN NEED

The room across the passage-what little Maia could see of it in the candlelight and her own shocked and exhausted condition-was larger than the one she had left, as was the bed. There were two or three stools, and near the door a small wooden chest with two bronze handles and some lettering branded over the lid. Occula, releasing Maia's hand, ran her own forefinger over the first two or three characters.

"Can you read, banzi?" she asked.

Maia shook her head. "Precious little. Can you?"

"Sort of," answered the black girl. "Anyway, that's my name. Old Domris gave me this, for my clothes an' things, 'fore I left Thettit-Tonilda. You can put your own things in it if you like. There's enough room."

Before Maia could reply, Megdon came in with two fresh candles, a towel and a wooden pail, the steam from which gave off a pleasantly herbal smell.

"Didn' I tell that other bastard he was to bring the hot water?" asked Occula.

Megdon, lighting the new candles from the other burning by the bed, shrugged his shoulders.

"I shouldn't push it too far, Occula, if I were you. He's a very funny lad, is Genshed. You get them in this business, you know."

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "He'll be a lot funnier when I've finished, tell you that. I'm goin' to speak to Lalloc as soon as I get to Bekla."

"D'you know Lalloc?" replied Megdon, grinning. "Ever met him?"

Occula, without replying, opened the chest and took out a sheet of reed-paper, which she held up for a moment before putting it back and closing the lid.

"See that?" she said. "That's a letter from Domris to

Lalloc; as well as her bill for me. Doan' you start thinkin' Lalloc woan' listen to me, because he will. Your friend Genshed's as good as out."

"But why, Occula?" asked Megdon. "This young girl doesn't belong to anyone yet. Far as I can make out she's some sort of lucky dip. I didn't even know she was here until you started the row."

"I started the row?" retorted Occula, rising to her feet and turning to face him. "Some lout of yours goes in for rapin' stock-in-trade and you say I started the row? I doan' give a baste how you came by her: once the likes of him start rapin' stock, there's not a girl's goin' to be safe. You know Lalloc's rules as well as I do. A little banzi like that, knows nothin', never seen anythin'-what good's she goin' to be to Lalloc or anyone else when your friend Genshed's finished with her? You're a damn' fool, Megdon. Go back to bed. And doan' wake me in the mornin'. I'll come down when I'm ready."

As soon as the man had gone Occula threw back her cloak, knelt beside the pail and dipped one end of the towel in the steaming water.

"Come on, banzi," she said. "Sit on this stool; and lean forward, so I can get at those shoulders and arms. Who knows where that bastard's filthy knife has been?"

Her hands were surprisingly gentle. None of the scratches and pricks was deep, though one continued to bleed despite repeated stanching with the towel.