She stared at him, but could infer nothing from his impassive gaze.
"Well, my lord, I don't reckon the High Counselor would sell me--not just at present, anyway."
"I didn't mean that: I don't want to buy you."
He got up, flung a quilted robe round his great, shaggy body and sat down on a carved chest beside the bed.
"What people tell their rulers is nearly always what they think they want to hear. But the rulers need to know more. I need to know things--things I wouldn't be told if I asked. Do you understand?"
"But my lord, the High Counselor--isn't that his work-- all those people who come and talk to him--"
"This is nothing to do with the High Counselor: I need my own sources of information. There are things I can't leave in the hands of a man who lives as he does. And don't go telling him what I've said, or tell your saiyett, or anyone else, do you see? If I learn that you have, I shall simply say that you're a mischievous little liar and have you put to death."
Frightened, she said no more. The Lord General, standing up, opened the chest and took out a purse stitched over with white beads. Tossing this up and down in his hand, he sat down on the bed beside her.
"In a city like this--a country like this--men trust only their closest friends; and sometimes not even them. Everyone's on his guard, and the higher up he is the fewer he trusts. Everyone has secrets--secrets about which he means never to talk. But in practice, sooner or later, everyone does talk. That's strange, but true: for some curious reason, a secret always gets told--to somebody--"
She stared at him silently.
"But it's very seldom told where I can hear it; so someone has to hear it for me."
He paused, still tossing the purse up and down. The coins clicked rhythmically, like a tiny mill-wheel, and the rain sighed on outside.
"No, naturally they're not indiscreet to me; or to Sencho, or to the Lord Durakkon either. But in bed--or even just in company--with a pretty little slave-girl who looks no more than a child--that's another matter. Otavis--she's very well-known now; yet even so, she still gets to hear a lot." He smiled briefly. "You might hear still more. For one thing, you don't belong to me, you see."
"But my lord, if I don't belong to you--"
He raised a hand. "Some things a girl simply happens to hear, but that's only a small part of the work. Any girl can do that. But a very pretty, much-sought-after girl-- she can often learn what she seeks to learn. However much a man may mean to be on his guard, he may easily find himself talking freely to a girl like that, especially if she's shrewd and knows how to loosen his tongue. I dare say you know the old tale of the girl who refused to bed with the magician unless he agreed to give her the egg that contained his heart? He gave it to her, and she broke it."
"But if I don't belong to you, my lord, how can I do the work?"
"That you'll be told in my good time. You and I may never actually meet again. It's possible that it could turn out to be dangerous. You'd better think it over. But I'll deal fairly with you, Maia. If you do well--and survive-- you'll be set free; with plenty of money, too. Enough to make a good marriage--set yourself up as a shearna-- whatever you want."
As Maia remained silent, trying to take this in, he went on, "The men you'll have to deal with will be Urtans-- touchy, proud, humorless people. You'll need to be resourceful and sharp, so for a start--and as a test--you can find a way of your own to let me know your answer within the next three days."
Before she could reply he picked up a bell from the table by the bed and rang it two or three times. The fair-haired woman came in and stood by the door, palm to forehead. Kembri tossed the beaded purse to her.
"I like to be generous to a girl who's pleased me. Is my bath ready?"
"Yes, my lord."
Without another word the Lord General left the room.
27: WAITING
Maia, upon her return, found Terebinthia, Occula and Dyphna sitting round the stove. This surprised her, for at this time of day either the saiyett herself or at least one girl would usually be in attendance upon the High Counselor. Before she had a chance to ask questions, however, Occula, jumping up and helping her off with her wet cloak, inquired cheerfully, "Hullo, banzi; back in one piece? Well basted?"
"Basted? You mean split and sun-dried," answered Maia, sliding off the heavy silver bracelets, which she found cumbersome. She was in a mood to reply to Occula's ribaldry in kind, for to herself she no longer seemed the girl who had been given her instructions by Terebinthia earlier that afternoon.
"Got the speedin' trick, had he?" said Occula. "Took you up and took you down; is that the tale? His tail or yours?"
"Here, I'll tell you--" Maia, laughing, stopped suddenly as she saw Terebinthia staring at her in the manner of one waiting for another to remember what she ought not to have to be reminded of. She took out the Lord General's purse and handed it over.
"It's still sealed, saiyett."
"So I see," replied Terebinthia. "If it hadn't been, I should have felt unpleasantly surprised. The seal is customary, but I deliberately didn't tell you. I suppose Occula did?"
"No, I didn', saiyett," said Occula. "To tell you the truth, I clean forgot. Maia deserves all the credit. Can we see what he's given her?"
"We can," answered Terebinthia, breaking the little red seal and spilling the contents of the purse on her palm. "Well, well!" Maia had the impression that for a moment she was quite taken aback.
"Whew!" said Occula. "Two hundred and forty meld! That's about as big a lygol as ever I've heard of, saiyett, but of course I doan' know how they go on in Bekla."
"It's very good indeed," said Terebinthia. "Well done, Maia! Here you are, and mind you look after it."
She counted the coins again. "In fact, you may have a full hundred. It ought to be ninety-six, but I confess I wasn't expecting the Lord General to be quite so generous, and I can't be bothered to go and find the change just now."
"Thank you very much, saiyett."
"Just think, banzi," said Occula. "Do that a hundred and fifty times an' you'll be a free girl--long as your back's not broken."
The night: the close, secret, rain-whispering night. Heads close together under the bedclothes, barely a sound even from lips close to ears. Maia lay trembling in Occula's arms, the black girl listening intently as she clasped her close.
". . . so then he said . . . put you to death . . . secrets .. . dangerous . . .if you survive ... a fortune!. . .answer in three days."
For a while Occula made no reply, merely calming Maia as she might have calmed an animal or a baby, with quiet endearments and soft, meaningless sounds. At last, putting her own lips as close to her ear as Maia's had been to hers, she breathed, "You'll have to do it, banzi: you've no choice. If you tell h
im you woan', he'll decide you're a risk, however much he enjoyed bastin' you. He'll reckon he's told you too much already; an' that could be fatal."
"But why ever should he choose me?" asked Maia desperately. "I don't know anything--hardly been in Bekla any time at all--"
"Ssh!" For Maia's voice had risen well above a whisper. "He told you why himself--or most of it. You look too young--you act too young--to be suspected: that's one thing. But he reckons you're a girl who can turn people's heads--you seem to have turned his all right for a couple of hours, by all you've told me. You doan' realize yet-- lots of girls never do realize--what sort of effect a girl can have on men. They're not made like us. They get obsessed, you know--crazed, distracted--like a dog hangin' round after a bitch. They doan' think about warmth or kindness or friendship, like we do. They just go out of their minds to baste you. Sometimes it sends them as near mad as makes no difference, and they'll do anythin', tell you anythin', just to get it. Far as I can make out, Kembri as good as told you that himself, but you doan' seem to have taken it in. And on top of all that, he must have decided that you're no fool."
"But how could he? He never said a word until--"
"You never said a word either, did you? Probably that had a lot to do with it."
"He said it might be dangerous--"
"There's always danger for the likes of us. But cheer up, banzi. It could all turn out to have been worth it, you know. Anyhow, I should try to look at it that way, for you'll have to do it."
"But he said I was to tell him in three days. How can I?"
"I've thought of that, darling: I'll do it for you."
"You will? How?"
"Like this. You tell Miss Pussy-cat tomorrow that while you were with Kembri you told him about your friend the black girl, and he said I sounded unusual and he'd like to have a go at me. That'll sound much more convincin' than if you said he wanted you back. You've nothin' to gain out of me goin', you see."
"But she won't take my word for a thing like that--"
"No, 'course she woan'. But she'll hope to Cran it's true, because she'd like another hundred and forty meld. I bet she'll never give Piggy a trug of what she took off you today. By the way, he's out of order, you know. Gorged himself sick at dinner an' they put him to bed. That's why we were all off-duty when you got back. So she's on her own. She'll send round to Kembri's saiyett, who'll ask Kembri. And he's expectin' to hear somethin' from you, so he'll realize what it's all about and say I'm to come."