Maia made no reply.
"If the three of us were to go to Sencho's house now, do you think your Terebinthia woman would let us see Milvushina?"
"For money, my lord, yes, I'm pretty sure she would. But you really must let me go now, please: I'll be in trouble else." And once more she left him.
However, her errand was still not to be free from interruptions. Searching along the waterside, she could not resist stopping for a moment to admire the swans. Three or four of them, attracted like moths to the light, had swum up to the edge of the lake and, their white plumage tinged now rosy, now blue or green as they oared back and forth between the lamps, were taking food thrown to them by the guests.
One of these, turning suddenly, revealed himself as Bayub-Otal. Before she could hurry away he had caught up with her.
"I suppose you're with the High Counselor, Maia," he said, falling into step beside her on the path.
"Yes, my lord."
"And is that pleasant?"
"I've told you before, my lord; I'm a slave."
For a few moments he made no reply, only watching her as she darted glances among the people they passed.
"Whom are you looking for?"
"A lady as the High Counselor's sent me to find."
Suddenly he stopped dead, gripping her by the wrist so hard and unexpectedly that she was brought up standing with a jolt. She gave a quick cry of vexation, but then, restraining herself, stood looking up at him silently.
"You--you don't have to go on being a slave, you know," he said abruptly.
"What, my lord?"
"I said, you needn't go on being a slave. You can leave that brute before he does you any more harm. If you want, you can leave Bekla and become--well, become a real woman."
"I don't understand, my lord. What do you mean?"
"Not what I believe you suppose. I won't say more now, but if ever you come to think better of yourself, Maia--if you want to leave Bekla--you've only to tell me--that's if I'm still here to be told."
"If you mean as you want to buy me, my lord, then I think you'd better speak to the High Counselor yourself. Then you--"
But he was gone, turning on his heel and striding away between the bushes and the colored lamps. She stared after him a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and was going on her way when suddenly she caught sight of the Urtan dowager talking to Durakkon himself.
The lady, plainly flustered by Maia's message, immediately excused herself to Durakkon (shows which one she's more afraid of, thought Maia) and hurried away over the lawn. Maia followed more slowly, wondering exactly what Bayub-Otal might have meant. She had better consult Occula, she thought, once they could be alone together.
At this moment she was surprised to see Occula herself approaching along a path through the trees. She was plainly in a hurry, peering here and there and looking, thought Maia, really upset--almost beside herself. Several people turned to stare as she passed them.
Maia ran up to her. "Occula, I couldn't help it! I only just found the old lady--she was talking to the High Baron. She's gone to see Sencho just this minute--"
Occula appeared scarcely to have heard her.
"Banzi! Thank Cran I found you! Look, keep away, d'you see? Doan' go back to him--not on any account! Leave him to me, d'you understand?"
"Oh, Occula, is he angry? Honestly, I couldn't have been any quicker--"
"No, no, he's not angry: I can' explain. But keep away! Doan' go back, that's all! Leave me to see to him."
"But whatever--I mean, how long for?"
"Well--until--oh, banzi, doan' ask!"
Occula paused. Her breath was coming fast and she was trembling. "Hell, I ought to have sent you back home to fetch somethin', oughtn' I? You'd have swallowed that. Look, banzi, just keep out of the way for--well, say, for half an hour."
"All right, dear; if you say so. But are you sure you can manage him by yourself?"
"Yes! Yes! Give me a kiss, banzi; my dear, dearest banzi! Good-bye!"
Maia kissed her and Occula, with what sounded like a quick sob, instantly suppressed, hastened away across the grass.
Maia, once more alone, tried to imagine what could possibly have put her into such a state. It was bewildering. At least, however, she had said that Sencho wasn't angry; that was reassuring.
Suddenly she knew what it must be. That crass, clumsy fool Bayub-Otal had then and there gone and asked Sencho to sell her to him. Yes, of course, that must be it! And Occula had been afraid that if she, Maia, came back in the middle, while Bayub-Otal was still talking to Sencho, he might make a scene, or she might lose her head and start begging Sencho to let her go. Whereas Occula reckoned that if she herself could only spend half an hour alone with Sencho when he'd got rid of Bayub-Otal, she could probably cool him down.
But then, how ought she to act when she did return? Or, simply wait and see; it would all depend. He might be drunk by that time, or Occula might have gratified him and got him off to sleep. Or better still, he might want her, Maia, to gratify him: that would put her beyond any risk of his displeasure.
The mood of the party, she noticed, was beginning to change. Most of the older people seemed to be leaving. Not far away, a little group of obvious heldril were making their farewells to Durakkon, while near-by she could hear a grizzled baron saying something to his wife about the evening having lasted long enough. She turned back towards the lake, and as she did so two young men ran past her, one waving a flagon and calling out the name of Shend-Lador. Evidently the younger Leopards were now intending to make a night of it. Would Sencho be more likely to stay or go? she wondered. On the one hand his greed, now indulged, might dispose him to sleep, but on the other his lust might cause him to remain awake for a while yet.
A little distance away she could hear shouts and laughter. There were cries of "Go on!"
"Go on, Sychar!" Then a splash was followed by ironical cheering. Looking in the direction of the noise, she could make out dark figures dodging about, obscuring and again revealing the colored lamps among the trees.
The swans were no longer to be seen. How nice it would be, she thought, simply to take off her clothes and plunge into the water--just to strike out into the moonlit emptiness for a good, long swim. Of course, this silly old Barb was nothing to Lake Serrelind. How long was it, she wondered--half a mile? Not much more.
The further end was only two or three hundred yards away from Sencho's house. What fun it would be to swim down there--she could do it in half an hour, easy--oh, yes, less--and then just climb out, like one of those water-nymphs in old Drigga's stories, and walk in. Ah, and she could just see Terebinthia's face an' all--
"Maia! All alone? What are you doing now--just going to bathe, were you?"
It was Elvair-ka-Virrion, sauntering alone, apparently at a loose end. As she turned and smiled at him he took her in his arms and kissed her warmly, fondling her body up and down through the smooth, supple material of the tunic.
"Why, my lord, I thought you said as you were going off to see Milvushina?"
"T'maa and his sister have gone. I'm joining them there later. But never mind about that. A moment ago, before you saw me, you were looking as if you'd love to dive in."
"So I would, my lord. Nothing I'd like better!"
"It's deep, you know--deeper than you think. The Pool of Light's more than three times as deep as a man."
"Wouldn't worry me, my lord. Deeper the better!"
"You really can swim, then?"
"In the lake, back home, I used to swim--oh, ever so far."
"Did you?" He stooped quickly, drew one of her arms round his neck and then, with the other under the crook of her knees, lifted her bodily.
"Oh, please don't throw me in, my lord! Not in these clothes--that'd make a right old lot of trouble for me, that would!"
"I'm not going to."