"Oh, no; no, no," said the other, withdrawing one hand from beneath his clothes. "Nice girl like you, do very well, very well. Yer, yer."
"You understand, of course," said Maia, assuming an air and feeling very self-possessed and business-like as she recalled the words of a cattle-dealer who had come to see Tharrin a week or two before, "you understand that I can't just rightly conclude the matter at this moment? I shall need to have a word with my partner--I mean my stepfather--and see you again. Where shall I be able to find you?"
That was good, she thought--"be able to find you."
The shorter man burst into a high-pitched laugh, but made no reply.
"That's all right, dear," said Morca. "The gentlemen understand very well. They've just asked us to have a drink with them before they go back to Meerzat, so let's all sit down nice and comfortable, shall we, and take it easy?"
For the first time Maia noticed that four battered pewter goblets were standing on the table, already filled. They certainly did not belong to the house. Suddenly it occurred to her that this might be some sort of custom, like striking hands, or earnest money (she knew about that), which might later be held to have committed her. Ah, but I've got my wits about me, she thought. Mother's only thinking of the money, but there's a lot more to it than that. I'm not going to lose my head or rush into anything.
"Very pleased, I'm sure," she said primly. "But this is quite without any--er--without any promising, of course. A drink, but not to say a bargain yet: that's right, isn't it?" She smiled graciously at the sandy-haired man--the other seemed just a grumpy fool, she thought--and sat down on the bench.
"Oh, no, no," he gabbled, seating himself beside her. "Oh, no bargain, no!" The tall man remained standing, but Morca sat down opposite, picking up a cup in each hand. Maia noticed that she was sweating heavily and that her hands were trembling. The sultry weather, she thought; she had seen enough of pregnancy to know that it sometimes had this kind of effect.
"Feeling a bit queer, mum?" she asked. "You all right?"
"Oh, well, this'll put me right," answered Morca with a laugh. "It'll pass off quick enough. Now here's yours, sir, and this one's for you, Maia--"
Stooping, the tall man, without a word, leant over and took out of her hand the goblet she was offering to Maia. Morca bit her lip--and no wonder, thought Maia; we may be poor, but at least we've got better manners than that-- and then gave her one of the remaining two goblets which the sandy-haired man pushed across the table.
"Well, here's good health to us all!" said Morca rather shrilly.
Maia took a sip of tepid, yellow wine. The taste was strong and strange to her, though perhaps a little like the licorice sweetmeats she had once or twice tasted at Meerzat. It was not altogether pleasant, but it was certainly heady; of course (she told herself), as Tharrin had once said, girls of her age had to be at it for a while before they could really enjoy the taste of certain wines; but it would not do, before these men, to appear childishly inexperienced.
"It's very nice," she said, making herself take a longer draft. "Yeldashay, isn't it?"
"Oh, you're very nice, yer, very nice girl," said the sandy-haired man, touching his goblet to hers. Raising one hand, he stroked Maia's shoulder; then dropped his arm, laughed and looked away. Maia, to cover her confusion, took another mouthful of the wine. At least that was better than the man's breath, which had quite disgusted her. And no wonder, she thought, with those teeth. I wonder whether his employer knows he behaves like this when he's out working for him? Still, I'd better not risk offending him, I suppose--he might say something against me when he gets back. She edged a foot or two away along the bench.
"That's a lovely dress you brought with you, isn't it?" she said, to resume the conversation. "The flowers are beautifully embroidered. Do you carry the dresses round in that cart? I suppose that's what it's for, is it--so they can lie unfolded, and it's shut-in on top to keep out the dust an' that?"
"Oh, yer, that's the way, that's the way," answered the man. "There's lots in the cart now, plenty of others-- prettier than that, too."
"Prettier than that?" asked Maia. "Really?"
"Oh, yer, yer," he said, draining his goblet. "Want to come and see? Finish up what you got left, and I'll show y' if you like."
"I'll finish it when I come back," said Maia. "I'd like to see the dresses."
"Go on, you can drink up that little drop, dear," urged Morca.
"Too strong for you, is it?" laughed the man. "Not had any the like of that before, eh? Like it when you're older, when you're older, that's it."
"I like it now!" retorted Maia indignantly.
With this she finished the wine, swallowing with an effort which she did her best to conceal. Then, standing up, she led the way across to the door.
The tall man followed her closely, stooping under the lintel as he came out. The leaves hung unmoving in the hot, noonday air and the lake, level to the horizon, reflected a cloudless sky. The birds had fallen silent. Even the oxen under the trees seemed to have ceased their restless stamping and tossing. The stillness was so deep that Maia's ears could just catch, far off, the sound of the falls. I'll go down there and cool off this afternoon, she thought. Where's Kelsi and Nala got to, anyway? Reckon it must be well past dinner-time. Like to see the dresses, though.
Crossing the waste patch, she caught her foot in a tangle of bindweed, stumbled and almost fell.
Recovering herself, she realized that she was feeling dizzy. That wine had certainly gone to her head. She wished the dealers had not come while Tharrin was away. The sandy-haired man had quite upset her with his wretched fidgeting and pawing. Still, I suppose I'll have to learn, now, how to deal with that sort of nonsense, she thought. Bound to come across the likes of him now and again, I dare say.
Coming up to the cart she swayed, closing her eyes and biting on her thumb to bring herself round.
Unspeaking, the tall man lifted her bodily, turned her round and sat her down on the iron step below the cart door.
The sycamore leaves had become a green, mottled blur flowing up and over her head. She tried shutting her eyes, but at once opened them again, sickened by the sensation of turning a kind of floating somersault.
"I'm--I'm--trying to--" she said gravely to the sandy-haired man, who had taken the padlock out of the staple and was opening the door. She bent forward, head between her knees, and as she did so the door swung outwards behind her, its corner just brushing her left shoulder.
"All right, Perdan?" said the sandy-haired man. The other nodded and pulled Maia to her feet.
"Right, miss," said the sandy-haired man. "Now you just have a look, have a look inside now, and tell us what you can see. Out loud, now, so's we can all hear."
Maia, finding herself facing the cart, stared into the sliding, trickling gloom of its interior. She could see nothing-- neither dresses nor anything else. The oblong space, insofar as she was capable of perceiving it, looked completely empty. She began to speak, but then found that for some reason she could only do so very slowly, word by word.
"I--come--over--funny," she said. "Want--mother-- tell--her--"
As her surroundings misted and dissolved, she felt herself lifted once more and pushed forward supine into the long, narrow body of the cart. Before the door had shut upon her she was already lying senseless, stretched full length on the floor.
5: A JOURNEY
Just as light before dawn increases gradually and without, at first, any obvious source, so that it is impossible to tell the precise instant at which darkness has ceased and daylight begun, so Maia's consciousness returned. In the midst of a confused dream she became sensible first of discomfort and then of a continuous, afflictive motion from which there was no relief. As though in a fever she tossed and turned, trying but failing to be comfortable. Little by little she became aware that she was awake. Her body, from head to foot, was being jolted and shaken, not roughly but without pause. Next, through another gate of her senses, came
a fusty, mucid smell, not strong but pervasive. And at last, like a terrible sunrise completing the destruction of twilight, came the recollection of the men, the cart and her own fainting-fit. Immediately she opened her eyes, sat up and looked about her.
For a few moments she could neither focus her sight nor make any sense of what little she could see.
Then she realized that she was sitting on a soft, padded surface--as soft as her own bed or softer. The place she found herself in was like a little, oblong cell, perhaps seven feet long and about two or three feet wide and high. It was dim, for the only openings were two slits, one on either side, immediately below the roof. The whole interior--all six surfaces--was covered with a kind of coarse quilting. It was from this that the musty smell came. Here and there the quilting was torn and tufts of coarse hair protruded like stuffing from a burst mattress.
The whole kennel was in continual movement, gently bumping and swaying, with now and then a sharper jolt; and with this went a creaking, trundling sound. There could be no doubt where she was. She was inside the strange cart, which was going slowly but steadily along.