"They'd have been hidin' somewhere, of course, where they could watch you. And then she sent you off on some errand or other while they worked out the price. And what was in the wine, I wonder?--yours, of course; no one else's. Tessik, most likely. They'd not risk theltocama on a banzi like you--might 'a killed you. And the padded cart--well, some girls throw themselves about, you know, when they realize what's happened--bang their heads and so on."
Maia lay sobbing hysterically on the wooden boards. There was a knock and the door opened.
"Get out, Megdon," said Occula. "Go on, piss off."
"Brought your breakfast," said the man, in an injured tone. "Hot water, too. Don't you want it?"
"Yes, when I say," replied the girl. "Just leave the hot water and get out." The door closed.
Taking her stool over to the window, she sat looking out through the bars. At last she said, "Banzi, listen to me. I've seen a lot of girls this has happened to. I know what I'm talkin' about."
As Maia, prone on the floor, continued sobbing, she went across to her, turned her over bodily and then sitting down beside her, took her head in her lap. "Listen to me; because this may very well save your life, and I'm not jokin'. Save your fife! Understand this--from now on you're in danger; as much as a soldier on a battlefield. But if your mate--that's me--stands by you and if you can keep your head and make good use of what you've been taught-- that's to say, what I'll teach you--you've got a good chance of stayin' alive."
Maia, with another burst of tears, tried to struggle from her arms.
"O Kantza-Merada give me patience!" cried the black girl, holding her down by force. "All right, you're not a bastin' soldier, then! But I've got to make you see it, banzi! How? How? Here--answer me--can you swim?"
The simple question penetrated Maia's hysteria.
"Yes."
"In the lake? You've always swum, have you? You swim well?"
When we are plunged in desperate trouble, often it affords some slight relief to give what we know to be the right answer to a question--any question--even one that seems to have no bearing on our misery.
Perhaps this is due to superstition--in some unforeseeable way the answer, being correct, may help.
Certainly it can do no harm, and the mere giving of it grants a little respite.
"I've swum three miles before now. Anything an otter can do, I can do it."
"Good," said Occula. "Well, now, banzi, understand this. You're out in deep water, and it's a bastin' long way to the land. Never mind how you got there. No good thinkin' about that now; that woan' keep you afloat. You're there, in the water, got it? What you goin' to do? Tell me, because I'm no swimmer."
"Take it steady," replied Maia without hesitation. "No good losing your head, start splashin' about; only wear yourself out, start swallowing water an' then very likely that's it."
"Anythin' else?"
"Well, say you're making for somewhere as you can see, you got to watch ahead--make out if you're drifting one way or t'other. Then you can alter according, see, with the drift."
"Fine! You've just given yourself better advice than ever I could. Now you just keep afloat and stop strugglin', because I'm goin' to tell you where we are. Right?"
Maia, biting her lip, stared at her.
"You're a. slave now," said Occula deliberately. "A slave bought and sold. You can't go home. If you try to escape, they've got ways of hurtin' you that doan' show. Now go on listenin' to me, because it's important. Tell me, where is this place, d'you know?"
"Puhra, isn't it?"
"Yes, about a mile outside Puhra. Ever heard of Senda-na-Say?"
Maia nodded. "He used to be High Baron of Bekla. He's dead, isn't he?"
"He was murdered by the Leopards nearly seven years ago. That out there--" she nodded towards the window-- "that's what's left of one of his great houses. They burnt it, and most of his household, too. This used to be the grooms' quarters, but after the big house was burned, Lalloc and Mortuga and one or two more of the big slave-dealers in Bekla turned it into a sort of depot. They've got their agents out all over the eastern provinces, you see, and this makes a convenient collectin'-place for slaves being sent up to Bekla.
"The big money's in girls; girls and little boys, that is. As far as I can make out, they're even hotter for girls in Bekla than they are in Thettit, and that's sayin' somethin'. That's why I'm goin' there. Still, there'll be plenty of time later on to tell you about me.
"Now listen, Maia, and try not to get upset any more, because that woan' help you. But I'll help you: I'm your big sister. Got it?"
Maia nodded again.
"They're goin' to take us up to Bekla, to this man Lalloc, to be sold for bed-girls. And now I'm goin' to tell you two bits of sense that may very well make all the difference to you. First, a bed-girl's got to be cunnin' and tough, even if she never shows it. Other people have fathers, mothers, families, homes, money, social standin', Cran knows what. We've got nothin'. We just have to rely on ourselves. A bed-girl who isn't tough and cunnin', or starts feelin' sorry for herself, just goes down and down until she dies young. And I mean dies, banzi! Have you got that?"
Her eyes, brown-irised and slightly bloodshot, gazed earnestly into the younger girl's.
"Yes," whispered Maia faintly.
"Now the second thing is this. People value a girl as she values herself. Behave like a queen and you may even end up by convincin' some of the bastards that you really are one. Never ask a favor or tell them what's really in your heart. Somehow or other, you've got to keep your authority. Never act as if you wanted anyone to feel sorry for you. Do you understand?"
Maia smiled faintly, returning the squeeze of her hand.
"Good," said the black girl. "Now understand: I'll stick by you, because I've taken a fancy to you. Aren't you bastin' lucky? Doan' cry in front of those swine out there. Cry when you're alone with me and I'll wipe your eyes. Right?"
"Best's I can," replied Maia, choking back a sob.
"Then you can start bein' tough now, this very minute. We'll wash and dress--is that all you've got, what you've slept in? I'll make them give you better than that--and go downstairs and eat breakfast as if there was nothin' the matter. But doan' start chatterin' in front of them, d'you see? You've got to keep your dignity, else they'll despise you and start treatin' you worse than a slave. How hot's that water? Has it gone cold?"
Maia went over to the pail.
"No; reckon it's about right."
"Then you have it first. Properly, too; head to foot."
Obediently, Maia stripped and stood in the pail, stooping and rinsing. The warm wate
r was refreshing.
As once before, a sudden feeling came upon her that the only thing to do was to refrain from thought or deliberation and simply leave her body to carry on.
Looking round, she was startled to see the black girl staring at her with an air of astonishment.
"What's up?" she asked nervously.
"Oh, banzi," whispered Occula, "you're nice, aren't you? Turn round: let's have a proper look!" Maia turned and faced her. "Oh, Cran and Airtha, what a figure! You'll be worth a fortune, my girl! Just keep your head screwed on right and doan' make a fool of yourself, and you can' go wrong! This may even turn out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you--a lot better than a hut on the Tonildan Waste, I wouldn't wonder. Stick with me, banzi, and before we're done we'll turn Bekla upside down!"
8: KANTZA-MERADA
Occula spent some time in dressing and preparing herself to go downstairs. Maia, despite the misery and anxiety flooding her mind, watched with involuntary fascination as the black girl selected from her chest a Yeldashay-style metlan of brilliant orange, over which she belted on a kind of leather hunting-jacket trimmed with scarlet bows. The whole effect, bizarre and incongruous, was nevertheless most arresting, as though the wearer were a kind of incarnation of fantasy and extravaganza, exempt from all normal sartorial conventions.
Looking up from a battered metal mirror as she finished painting a crimson streak along the outer edge of each eye, Occula winked.
"Interestin', aren't I? Start as you mean to go on. Doan' worry, banzi, you'll be gettin' plenty of nice clothes before you're much older; that's one consolation."
Picking up a shining, golden stud, she fitted it into place through the side of one nostril.
"For now, you'll have to wear the dress that bastard ripped, but put my cloak on over the top. No, not like that, banzi: here, let me help you. Cran! What a shame to cover up a pair of deldas like those!"
When the girls came down into the stone-floored kitchen, it was empty except for the old woman, who was sitting by the fire slicing a pile of brillions. By daylight she looked still more sleazy. Even by Maia's standards she was dirty, and had on one cheek a weeping sore. Occula stood looking her up and down without a word, until at length the old woman, plainly annoyed but apparently wary of provoking the black girl, made shift to save her face by looking briefly at the remaining brillions and remarking, "Well, that's enough o' them, I reckon. And I suppose now you want something to eat, miss, is that it, after sending back what Megdon took you up earlier?"