The jekzha stopped and she peeped out through the rain-curtain. "But jus' now what we seem to have found is old Piggy's house, so we'd better go in, I suppose."
31: MILVUSHINA
Nevertheless, Occula refused to get down in the rain, insisting that the jekzha-man, before being paid and dismissed, should call the porter to open the gate and then pull them into the covered courtyard. To the sleepy Jarvil, however, she was all civility, thanking him for his trouble and even, with a detachment worthy of a baron's wife, sliding two meld of her own into his palm before taking the lamp he proffered and disappearing down the corridor to the women's quarters.
"D'you think there'll be any hot waiter?" said Maia, pausing at the door and taking the lamp from Occula to light another on a ledge near-by. "I wouldn't half like some, but I'm not going to knock poor old Ogma up at this time of night--"
"What in Cran's name's that?" said Occula suddenly, grasping her wrist. "Did you hear it?"
They both stood still, listening. For some moments there was no sound. Then, from somewhere beyond the door, they both heard muffled weeping--sobs, a shuddering, in-drawn breath and then silence once more.
The two girls stared at each other.
"Dyphna?" whispered Maia at length.
"No, nor yet Ogma," answered Occula. "Someone else."
"Ought we to get Terebinthia; or Jarvil?"
"No, to hell with that!" said Occula. "If it were a man-- but it's not. We'll find out for ourselves. Come on!"
Opening the door quietly, they went on through the bead curtains and across the main room, where the still pool lay glimmering in the reflection of their lamps. Their own room was empty.
"Dyphna can't be in her room or she'd have heard it too," said Maia.
"No, she's probably with Piggy," replied Occula. "Meris's room--we'd better go and look."
Picking up the lamp, she led the way. Maia, following and peering over her shoulder in the doorway, saw that there was indeed someone in the room--a girl sitting up in the bed, clutching the coverlet about her and cowering from the strange, black face of the intruder.
Slipping past Occula, Maia sat down on the bed and took the girl's hand in her own.
"You don't have to be afraid of us," she said. "Tell us who you are."
The girl, without replying, tugged to release her hand. Maia let it go and put an arm round her shoulders.
"Don't know whether anyone's hurt you since you come here," she said, "but we shan't, tell you that."
The girl, she now saw, was not much more than her own age, though slimmer and lighter. She had unusually large eyes, dark-brown hair and beautifully-shaped lips. What with the lamplight and her face smeared and contorted with weeping, it was difficult to make out more.
"You know who this'll be, doan' you?" said Occula to Maia, sitting down at the other end of the bed. "The girl to replace Meris. Well, I knew Terebinthia was a bastin' cow, but I wouldn' have believed that even she'd have shut a banzi like this in here on her own and then gone off to bed."
"Careful, Occula," whispered Maia. "She might be just outside the door."
"I doan' give two farts if she is," said Occula loudly. "Let her come in, and I'll give her a piece of my bastin' mind! Everybody knows if a girl who's pitchforked into this game's to get over the shock and turn out any good at all, she's got to be looked after and let down light to begin with. Even old Domris knew that. Terebinthia's not fit to be a saiyett: goin' the right way to ruin her master's property, and I've a damn good mind to tell him so."
"Might do more good just now to get this girl straightened out a bit," said Maia. "Suppose we--"
"--do the saiyett's damn' job for her," said Occula, "just to top off a jolly evenin' with the Urtans! Yes, all right, banzi. I know there's some wine left in that cupboard by the pool, and I dare say there may be somethin' to eat somewhere. Keep her happy: I'll be back before a dog can piss on a wall."
"You needn't be afraid of her," said Maia, as Occula disappeared into the passage. "Dare say you've never seen anyone like her before, but that's just her natural color. She talks rough, but she's got a very kind heart. Come on, now, try and tell me about yourself. What's your name?"
"Milvushina," answered the girl quietly. Her voice was unexpectedly low and smooth. She had stopped crying and was now leaning back against the wall, breathing slowly and deeply.
"Where you from?"
"Chalcon."
Maia, filled with curiosity, was about to go on to ask her how she had come to Bekla and whether it was Lalloc who had sold her to Sencho, when it occurred to her that probably this would only add to the girl's misery and upset her further.
"Have you had any supper?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you," answered the girl. She leaned across, picked up a towel and wiped her face. "It's good of you to have come in. I was--I--" She seemed about to break down again, but then, controlling herself, said, "I'm sorry to have given you the trouble. You can go now, if you like."
Maia was startled to realize, from her manner and tone of voice, that this must be a girl from a well-to-do family. Despite her earlier tears, she was now trying to put on a show of self-control and even detachment. Her air bore some faint resemblance to that of a lady addressing a servant. In other circumstances this would have angered Maia. As it was, it merely made the girl seem more pathetic. She decided to refrain altogether from further questions and merely to talk in a friendly, reassuring way until Occula returned.
"There's three of us here just now," she said. "Not counting you, I mean. It's not so bad, really, once you get used to it. The important thing's to keep on the right side of the saiyett, 'cos she's the one as really says what's to be done, see? The High Counselor can't hardly do without her."
Milvushina shuddered, biting her lip. Maia guessed that she might already have been inspected and approved by Sencho in much the same way as she herself had been.
"You can work for your freedom, you know," she went on. "If a girl can get the price together they've got to accept it and write her free; that's the law. That's why you want to keep in with Terebinthia; only she can either help or hinder you, see--makes all the difference. Dyphna'll be buying herself free any time now, and she's not much older than Occula. She'll probably be a shearna by the spring."
"I don't want to be a shearna," replied the girl coldly. She buried her face in her hands; not, as it seemed, to conceal more tears, but rather to shut out what lay around her.
Maia got up, went across to the window and stood looking out into the rainy darkness. A few moments later Occula returned, carrying a plate and wine-flask. Milvushina started and drew in her breath sharply.
"Oh," she said. "You startled me!"
"Oh, I scare the bugs out of the woodwork," replied Occula. "Now you listen to me, my lass. It's late at night, you're half out of your mind and I doan' blame you. We're not goin' to talk and you're not goin' to argue. You're just goin' to let us look after you."
Before Milvushina could reply she went on, "It'll be easier if you do what I say. Eat this--it's bread and cheese-- best I can do at this time of night--and drink this wine; I've warmed it over the lamp. After that you're goin' to sleep with Maia here, in the other room, so that there'll be someone with you. I'll sleep in here."
The girl hesitated and seemed about to reply.
"I doan' want to hear anythin' more tonight," said Occula. "I just want to get to bed myself." She stood up, leaning against the wall with folded arms. "There is some warm water, banzi. I've put it in the basin in the other room, so get on and doan' let it get cold."
Maia, giving her a quick kiss, slipped out. She had just finished washing when Occula came in, her arm round Milvushina's shoulders. Having helped the girl into bed she drew up the coverlet and sat down beside her. In a matter of minutes Milvushina was asleep.
"I doan' think she'll give you any trouble, banzi," whispered Occula, hanging up Maia's towel and helping her on with the supportive bodice which Terebinthia had t
old her to wear in bed. "If I know anything about it, she'll sleep for about ten hours."
Maia frowned, puzzled. "Why? How's she gone off so quick, anyway?"
" 'Cos I've bastin' well drugged her, that's why," answered the black girl shortly.
"Drugged her, Occula? What with?"
"With tessik, that's what."
Maia shook her head.
"Tessik's a drug the Ortelgan priestesses make on Quiso-- their Telthearna island, you know. I got some a year or so back, from a fellow in Thettit--the same one as gave me the smoke, remember? I never thought I'd have any use for it, but at least I took the trouble to find out what the dose is. Doan' let anyone else know we've got it, banzi; certainly not Pussy-cat. Now get off to sleep yourself. If you're as tired as I am, neither of us'll be missin the other much tonight."
An hour or so after dawn the following morning Maia, having woken to the familiar sound and scent of the rain, slipped out of bed, leaving Milvushina still in a heavy sleep, and went along the passage to the main room, where she found Ogma scrubbing the drained pool. Sending her off to the kitchen to fetch some breakfast, she sat down beside the newly-lighted stove and was reflecting on Bayub-Otal's curious behavior of the night before when Occula came in, washed and dressed, with gilded eyelids and scarlet fingernails.