Maia

Clasping Maia's hands, Occula gazed into her eyes with an air of such passionate desperation that Maia, used as she had become to the older girl's customary air of cynical worldly-wisdom, was almost frightened.

"I-I'm sure you will," she stammered. "Occula, yes, of course you will! But what is it that you have to do?"

At that moment Zuno's voice called, "Will you please come at once? I'm starting!"

"Get the rest of that bread and cheese stuffed down you quick, banzi," said Occula. "You'll be glad enough of it before ever we get to Khasik."

12: AN OFFER DECLINED

The inn at Khasik, called "The Bow and Quiver," stood on a little rise at the western end of the village, where the road from Hirdo came out onto the Beklan plain. Here, a bare twenty-two miles from the capital, there was more traffic, for lesser roads ran into the highway both from north and south. During the last mile or two of the day's journey the girls found themselves walking through (and breathing) clouds of the white, powdery dust of summer, stirred up by all manner of other travelers-a detachment of soldiers marching down to Thettit, three or four uniformed pedlars plodding together for company; a lean, threadbare minstrel, his cased hinnari slung on his back; a gang of Urtan drovers, shouting to one another in their own dialect across the backs of their brown-woolled sheep; a priest of Cran, traveling alone and doubtless trusting for safety to his robe and the other signs of his sacred calling; and six Belishban slaves carrying a curtained litter, in which, as it passed, Maia glimpsed a portly, half-naked occupant sleeping-or affecting to sleep-through all the heat and commotion.

Outside "The Bow and Quiver" a fair crowd-perhaps thirty or forty people-were scattered on the grassy slope. Most were busy drinking, and among them a potman was hurrying to and fro: others were simply lounging and talking as they waited for supper, a few of them checking over oxharness, pack straps and such-like gear. Away to one side a group of ten or twelve were listening to a gray-haired story-teller-one who evidently knew his job, for when he paused to pass round his cup the quarter- and half-melds fairly rattled in to make him go on. The setting sun, shining full in the girls' faces, lit up the whole tranquil scene and threw long shadows across the grass.

The Deelguy slaves helped Zuno down and handed him the basket containing the cat. After brushing off his clothes and telling them to see to stabling the jekzha, he nodded to Occula to follow him and proceeded up the slope towards the smarter-looking of the two entrances.

There were several women among the crowd, and as they passed one of these called out a friendly greeting. Maia, who was carrying Occula's box, acknowledged this

with a quick nod and smile but, mindful of Zuno's dignity, made no other response.

It soon became clear, however, that Zuno was in an expansive mood-partly, no doubt, at the thought that he was now nearer to Bekla than to Thettit, and also, perhaps, on account of being not altogether displeased with his handling of the situation that morning. Having reminded the innkeeper of who he was and who his employer was, he insisted on a secure room for the two girls. Occula thanked him very properly for his solicitude, whereupon he went so far as to tell her that he was not dissatisfied with their conduct and behavior during the day. They seemed, he thought, obedient and reliable girls, who might do well in Bekla once they had learned their business. Occula, giving no indication that she had been learning her business for the past six or seven years, replied that she felt his good opinion to be most encouraging. "From someone so knowledgeable as yourself, sir-one, I mean, who is familiar with good society at first hand-such kind words are very welcome."

"Well-" Zuno paused. "Well-you may both take supper with me this evening."

Occula drew in her breath and looked at Maia round-eyed, as though scarcely able to credit such an honor.

"When you have washed," went on Zuno emphatically, "and made yourselves as tidy as you can, I will meet you in the refectory: the upper refectory; that is to say, the better one. It's through there, do you see? Don't be long. What is your name?" he added to Maia.

"Maia, sir. From Lake Serrelind."

Zuno, nodding rather curtly by way of implying that she had presumed to tell him more than he had asked, motioned them to be off to their room.

Once there, Occula, having looked through her box, selected a half-sleeved, dark-red pellard, its tubular skirt pleated in the Lapanese style, with a low bodice which left her neck and shoulders bare. To this she added a broad, black belt, intensifying the dusky, smoldering effect and strikingly offsetting her necklace of teeth. Maia watched her with wistful envy but without resentment.