Maia

Maia, knowing no other way, led them along the wall, on to the now-soggy lawn beside the river and so up the garden to the door. When she rang the bell the huge Deel-guy opened at once. Looking past him she caught a glimpse of the big room crowded with men, some with girls on their knees, all gazing at something out of sight beyond; probably a kura, she supposed. The giant bowed, spreading his hands.

"You comming in, yoss?"

"No!" she replied firmly. "Tell your saiyett that Maia Serrelinda is here. Say I've brought the money and we want to go straight to the boat."

He was back almost at once. "She say you gowing the money, then I take you."

"No!" she said. "Tell her we'll pay the money when we've got the boat."

This time the Deelguy returned with Terebinthia, who was wearing a very low-cut sleeveless, scarlet dress and a heavy necklace of penapa stones. "Don't be silly, Maia. Come in and have a drink."

"I'm sorry, saiyett, but the river's rising and we're in a hurry. If you'll come down to the boat-house with us-or send your man, I don't mind which-I'll hand over the money once we've got the boat and seen as she's all she should be."

"Then you can go without, you little cow," said Terebinthia.

"That would be a pity, saiyett. I've got all your money here and what's more, I've got two armed men to defend me. So I'd have to go away, wouldn't I? and do all that talking as you were so anxious about this afternoon. I wouldn't want that, would you?"

For fully ten seconds Terebinthia glared at Maia, who returned her stare unwaveringly. Then she snapped, "Very well. Braishdil, fetch my cloak and a pair of clogs. Come with us yourself and bring a torch."

The boat, as far as Maia could see, was as she had been that afternoon. Having checked the oars and all the other equipment, she nodded to her friends to climb in. Then,

carefully turning her back on them, she paid out the money on a bench, the Deelguy holding the smoky, flaring torch as Terebinthia counted it, biting each coin.

"You're going to your death, you know, Maia," said Terebinthia finally, having dropped the last hundred-meld piece into her scrip. "That's your own affair, of course, but in many ways I wish you weren't. You'd much better stay here. You'd soon make a lot more than ever you did at Sencho's, you know."

"I'm sorry, saiyett. We just see things different, that's all."

"Evidently," replied Terebinthia. "But I'm afraid the truth is that you won't be seeing anything at all soon, Maia. I've been perfectly straight with you: that's a good boat. But if it was twice as strong, it wouldn't get to Katria in the rains. So just remember, I told you to think better of it and you wouldn't. Braishdil, push it out."

She watched silently as the great, lumbering fellow dragged the boat free from those against it as easily as he might have pulled a piece of firewood out of a pile, drew it forward and pushed it out into the dark water along the verge. As soon as it was clear of the bank she called, "That'll do!" The man left them and followed her out through the side door of the boat-house. They heard the chain fastened and then saw the torch bobbing back up the garden until it was lost to view. They were alone in the darkness, the river and the falling rain.

Their thick, soldiers' cloaks were drenched. Maia could feel hers wet against her shoulders and the upper part of her back.

"What do you want us to do now, Maia?" asked Anda-Nokomis from the bow.

"We've got to get across to the other bank, without drifting down no more 'n what we can help. If we get into that stew out in the middle below the town, we're finished."

"How's it to be done?"

"Row across as quick as we can and hope the current in the center doesn't turn us downstream too hard."

"I'm afraid rowing isn't my strong point, Maia."

O Lespa! she thought. She'd forgotten that; his hand! Of course she could row, but if they weren't to be swept down in midstream the steering was going to be important and she'd rather have had the doing of that herself. Still, there were no two ways about it, and no sense, either, in

making him feel worse than he must already. She got up and went forward to the rowing-seats amidships.

"Zenka," she said-it had slipped out before she'd thought about it-"give me one of those oars and take the other yourself. You go that side, 'cos you'll pull stronger n' me, and that'll help to keep her head from turning downstream. Anda-Nokomis, you take the tiller and keep her pointing half-upstream as steady as you can."

"The trouble is," he said, having stumbled to his seat in the stern, "I can't see anything out there."