Maia

On either side, sticking up out of the flood water between the huts and the river, were two stout posts. Their tops were cloven, and in these grooves ran, as she expected, a thick rope. Upon the river side of each hung a bell as big as her head. She couldn't see how the ends of the rope were secured; probably to iron rings, she supposed, but all she was looking at was the river between. About ten feet out on each side the rope, sagging, disappeared into the water. How far would it be under in the middle, then? Could she have hoped to sail over it?" Hardly; they'd have thought of that. It wouldn't have been worth the risk to try: if it had turned out wrong her men would never have been able to reach the bank from midstream. Anyway, it was too late to change now.

Ahead she could see a regular undulation where the river flowed over the rope. With all her strength she shoved the handle of the oar over to starboard. The boat turned and checked broadside on to the stream: then the starboard beam drifted gently against the rope. The boat listed but the rope gave only slightly-less than she'd expected.

"Now!" she cried, and in the same moment heard both the bells ringing. Anda-Nokomis and Zenka, clutching their oars, flung themselves over the starboard side.

Maia remained standing in the tilted stern, clutching the steering-oar to keep her balance. This was the bit she hadn't told them about. She unbuttoned her tunic, letting it hang open, and ripped her shift to the waist.

A voice was shouting "Turn out! Turn out!" Soldiers, one or two with torches, others stringing their bows, were pouring out of both guard-huts, peering into the rain as their eyes adjusted to the almost-gone light.

"Help!" she cried. "Help me! Oh, Cran, I'll drown if you don't help me!"

"What the hell d'you think you're doing, girl?" shouted one of the men; the tryzatt, she supposed. "Where've you come from?"

"I didn't know about the rope!" she shouted. "Oh, please help me!"

"Well, you know now," answered the tryzatt. "You mean you're alone?"

"Yes: I took the boat to run away from home. Please help me!"

"My stars, just look at her!" shouted another of the soldiers.

"Can you swim?"

"A little, yes. Oh, but I'm so frightened!"

No one had spotted her men yet; she mustn't look in their direction for fear of drawing attention to them. By now they might have had almost long enough to get ashore and out of bowshot.

At this point the matter was taken out of her hands. A sudden, sharp impulse of the current tilted the boat yet further, though still it hung against the ropes. Water came pouring over the starboard side. It was going to sink.

Maia plunged forward and under water. Although she kept her eyes open, she could see nothing. The current was swift and full of frightening drags and counterflows in which she was tugged helplessly one way and another. Obviously she was going downstream, but in which direction-right or left-she had no idea. She swam on for as long as her breath would hold, then came up, turned her head and looked quickly behind her.

Her heart sank. She must have gone from side to side, for she was no more than thirty or forty yards down from the rope, if that. On either shore there seemed to be something like twenty men, all gazing intently downstream. At that very moment one of them saw her and pointed.

"There she is, look!"

"Come in to the bank, girl," shouted the tryzatt, "else we'll have to shoot, and I mean it!"

She dived again, trying, in the swirling mirk, to swim to her left. Her head seemed splitting, now, and she felt so feverish and ill that she hardly knew what she was doing. Yet when she came up once more she was much further downstream and closer in to the left bank, where the water was lying almost level with the top of the dyke.

"There she is!" came the cry again. She looked round. Two or three soldiers, their bows in their hands, had run along the bank from the guard-hut and were approaching her. She was utterly spent, yet she turned and swam on. She had not gone ten yards before a swift "Whaup!" sounded close to her ear. A moment later she saw the arrow floating a foot or two ahead.

I can't do any more: I'm drowning: I'll have to come ashore. Lespa be praised, they haven't seen Zenka and Anda-Nokomis: they must have got away. I shan't even

be able to try to escape: I'm as sick as ever I've been in my life. O Zenka, just when we'd found each other again! I'm so sorry, my darling!

With a few last, failing strokes she reached the dyke wall. The top was only a few inches above her. She put her hands on it, pushed feebly upward and got her chin on the coping, but she could do no more. Trying to pull herself up and out she sank back, sobbing with pain, with the grief of loss and the bitterness of defeat. And now, in her delirium, it seemed as though Queen Fornis herself was standing on the bank, her green eyes staring as once in the archery field. "Two of them I did myself!" What cruelty would be devised for her?