Maia

"And do you know what happened then, banzi? She stood up and put her arms round me and she whispered, 'I'm afraid darlin' Shockula's in for a bit of an ock! But I'll pray for you, my dear.'

"And then she was gone. But suddenly I didn' feel afraid any more. Oh, yes, the fear was still there. It was like a great, deep lake, stretchin' all round me, and I was still in it. But before, I hadn' been able to swim, and now I could. That's the only way I can put it.

"I went back to the hut and slept till mornin'.

"We were up about an hour after dawn and I felt as though I'd said good-bye to everythin' and everyone I'd ever known. The men cleared up and packed their kit. Ashaktis paid the Elder and Fornis told me to go and ask our best way. I went off and pretended to ask some of the village people, and then I came back.

" 'They say that's best, Folda,' I said, pointin' where Chia had. You could see now, by daylight, the ground slopin' up out of the village for about a mile; up to the top of a kind of ridge-quite easy goin'. She'd nothin' to say against it and we set out.

"I knew then that all I had to do was listen to the goddess and commit myself completely to obeyin' her, even to the point of layin' down my life. Lay down my life? Oh, that seemed easy, compared with the fear she'd taken away."

Occula paused for a few moments, as though listening. Then she got up, went quietly over to the door and suddenly flung it open. There was no one outside. She shut it, came back, sat down beside Maia and continued in a lower voice.

"We were in Urtah, now, of course. I doan' know how much you know about Urtah, banzi, but it's all grazin' country up there, green and well-watered-the valley of the Olmen. We'd crossed the Beklan plain and now we were comin' into the Urtan cattle country. When we got up to the top of that ridge we could see it all spread out below. The change, after the plain-well, I suppose it struck me all the harder because I hadn' been expectin' it. It was so green: in spite of the time of year it was scarcely dried up at all. It was like a sort of huge cattle-meadow goin' on for miles; an enormous saucer with low hills all round the edge. They've looked after it for generations, of course, and Cran only knows how much cattle-dung and stuff must have gone into it. We could see a good many villages, and I thought I could make out the Olmen-oh, must have been eight or nine miles away; but it was all mixed up with horizon haze, and smoke, too, from the villages on the skyline. And there were these great flocks-sheep as well as cattle-all over the grasslands, with dogs and little boys and girls herdin' them. I s'pose you've done it yourself, haven' you?"

"Well, sort of," answered Maia. "But 'course we never had all that many beasts, you see."

"It certainly was a sight-talk about prosperous! That's what the soldiers thought, too, and Ashaktis and even Zuno. Only he was limpin' already. He'd already told me he didn' know how he was goin' to last out the day. I remember one of the soldiers shadin' his eyes and saying, 'Shakkarn! There's a few thousand meld walkin' about down there!' And Fornis said, 'Well, Taburn, when we get back I'll give you a farm, if you think you can live with the Urtans.' And he said, 'Ah, that's just it, esta-saiyett, isn' it? The bulls'd be all right, but what about the men?' 'Kill them off,' said Fornis. 'Slaughter the men and keep the bulls.' So they went on jokin' like that as we began comin' down off the ridge.

"I'd been doin' my best all along to keep up my act as the Sacred Queen's favorite, but now I could hardly manage it any more. The goddess had risen up erect in my

heart, like a snake that's goin' to strike; and me-I was like a hinnari string-ready tuned, oh yes; but so taut I could have screamed.

" 'You're very quiet this mornin', Occula,' says Fornis. 'Somethin' on your mind?'

"And it was just at that very moment, banzi, as she said that, that I saw-oh, how can I make you understand? Were you ever plagued by wasps in summer, until you went out to find the nest and destroy it? You know-you walk along the edges of the fields, and the banks and patches of trees, and then perhaps you see one or two wasps comin' and goin', and then more, and you get closer until at last you come on a hole or perhaps just a crack in a ditch, and then all of a sudden you realize there they are, crawlin' in and out in hundreds: the place your trouble's been comin' from. This was like that, only a million times worse.