"Still, both girls had better be tortured," said the chief priest. "Don't you agree?"
Kembri made no immediate reply. The truth was that for various reasons he felt disinclined to consent.
Judicial torture in Bekla (which by law could be used only upon slaves) was a function of the priesthood of Gran. Kembri had never liked the chief priest, whom he had always suspected of being in some sort of secret understanding with Sencho. It now appeared to him that the chief priest--a celibate but not a eunuch--seemed distastefully eager for a little torture--more so than he would have been if the suspects had been laborers rather than pretty girls. As concubines these two were above average and likely to become excellent shearnas. They were popular. One of two of the young Leopards, in fact, had already mentioned to him privately that they hoped he might be able to avoid torturing them. Besides, they were valuable property, no less than jewels or silver. Sencho had left no heir and everything he had possessed now belonged to the state-- strictly speaking, to the temple: but Kembri himself and other Leopard leaders would come in for a cut. The idea of torturing, and thereby ruining, or at least gravely damaging, a couple of girls worth fourteen or fifteen thousand meld apiece, simply on the chance that they might know a little--not much--more than they had already told, struck him, on balance, as more loss than g
ain. What he was really seeking at this juncture was clear evidence against Santil-ke-Erketlis, which was more likely to be obtainable from arrested Tonildans than from secluded Beklan dwellers like these girls.
Lastly and most important, what the Tonildan child had said about Bayub-Otal had just suggested to Kembri an entirely new means of gaining information, which he felt strongly ought to be made all possible use of.
The governor and the chief priest were awaiting his answer. He thought quickly. It would hardly do simply to set aside the chief priest altogether and order the release of both girls: better to settle for releasing the Tonildan, who in any case was almost certainly innocent and for whom he now had a special use. The black girl, against whom suspicion was stronger, would have to be relinquished to the priests.
A pity, but there it was.
"The black girl, yes," he replied. "As for the Tonildan, though, I'd like to tell you something that's just occurred to me with regard to Bayub-Otal. If I'm not mistaken, it could turn out very valuable indeed."
Once more Maia, this time with unchained hands and no soldiers behind her, sat on the bench facing the Lord General. Until this moment, she had been close to hysteria and collapse. Only her fear of her questioners had enabled her to control herself sufficiently to answer them. During the past few days, since the killing, she had suffered unspeakable agonies of terror and anxiety, unable to eat and scarcely to sleep, anticipating every dreadful conclusion to what had become a continuous, waking nightmare. Often she called to mind the ghastly corpses which she and Occula, on their way to Bekla, had seen hanging by the road; and at such times, crouching in the cell where they had locked her, she would cover her face and rock to and fro, sobbing and calling on Lespa and Shakkarn to put an end to her fife. The knowledge that she was innocent comforted her no more than it has ever comforted any helpless person in arrest under a despotism. What she knew was that she was in dire trouble, that the authorities were looking for culprits and that she had no influential friend to speak for her. She had given herself up for dead and hoped only that the horrible business might somehow be over quickly.
Throughout all this time her one coherent thought had been for Occula, whom she had not seen since they had parted in the moonlit gardens by the Barb. Occula, she now realized, must of course have played a vital part in the killing of Sencho, the killing itself having been carried out by the pedlar Zirek, no doubt helped by Meris. Yet this--or so it seemed to her--could be proved only if she herself were to tell all she now knew--of the messages passed by means of the pottery cats, of the old woman in the sweet-shop, the omen of the hunting owl and her own brief glimpse of Zirek and Meris in the crowd near the Peacock Gate. Only these could condemn Occula, for to all appearances it was plausible enough that she and Sencho should have taken the boat up the lake to a secluded place. Maia, of course, was ignorant that Kembri and Sencho themselves had sent Meris to the Lily Pool in Thettit or that Zirek, as an agent of Sencho, had been ordered to collect her from there and take her to Chalcon. She supposed that if only she herself could succeed in maintaining the appearance of one who knew nothing, there could be no case against Occula, since Sencho had enemies enough for forty men.
She had come back into the room full of dread. Yet now, facing Kembri for the second time, she almost at once perceived intuitively--as does any accused or suspect, if it occurs---a certain easing of the atmosphere. At first with incredulity, for she was superstitiously afraid even to entertain the idea, she sensed that apparently it was no longer their intention to fasten guilt upon her: their questions were no longer directed to suggesting that she might have devised the swimming game as a distraction to cover the murder. Then it occurred to her that Elvair-ka-Virrion must have corroborated what she had already told them about his part in it.
"We know, because the soldiers and the black girl have told us," said the Tonildan governor, "that in fact Bayub-Otal didn't speak to the High Counselor about buying you."
This came as a surprise to Maia who, ever since Occula had warned her, in the gardens, not to return to Sencho, had continued to suppose that Bayub-Otal must have asked him to sell her. Yet if he had not, this only made it all the more vital that no one should learn that Occula had sought her out and told her to keep away. She said nothing.
"However, we'll leave that for the moment," interposed Kembri, in a tone which brought to Maia an immediate sense of relief. "I want to talk to you again, Maia, about this conversation you say you had with Lord Bayub-Otal in the gardens that night. Are you sure that he said that if you wanted to leave Bekla you had only to tell him?"
"Yes, my lord; I'm absolutely certain about that."
"And do you like Bayub-Otal?"
"No, that I don't, my lord. One time I thought I did; but now I hate him!"
"Why?"
Maia hesitated. She could hardly reply, "Because I offered myself to him and he rejected me."
"Well, never mind," said Kembri briskly. "If you hate him that'll be all to the good, as long as you never let him see it. He's almost certainly a secret enemy of Bekla. We believe he may very well have entered into some sort of agreement with King Karnat, and that's what we need to learn more, about, do you see?"
"Yes, my lord."
"We're going to let it be known publicly that both you and the black girl are being held here for further questioning, and in fact it will be made to look as though you've been questioned in the usual way. Then, late tomorrow night, you'll make your way to Bayub-Otal's lodgings. Do you know where they are?"
"No, my lord: I've never been much in the lower city at all."
"No matter. It'll be very late--after midnight. Someone will guide you there and leave you outside. Then you'll wake Bayub-Otal, tell him that you've escaped from the temple and beg him to help you to get away from Bekla. After that you'll have to rely on your own wits."
"You mean, he'll take me away with him?"
"That's what we hope."
"But, my lord--" She was perplexed. "Suppose I do find out something--say he gets a message from this king or something p' that--how'm I to pass it on to you?"
"That'll depend entirely on yourself. You'll have to find the best way you can. It's a matter of keeping your head. You may have to get back here alone. You may even have to kill him first. I repeat, this is risky work, Maia. But it's of great importance; and if you succeed--whatever success may turn out to be--the reward will surprise you--your freedom and more besides, I assure you. But don't try to run away or betray us, do you see? because that would turn out very badly for you in the long run: very badly indeed."
"No fear of that, my lord: I'll do all I can. Only could I--?" She stopped uncertainly.
"What?" asked Kembri.
"Could I sleep now, my lord? Only I'm that tired, I can't hardly think."
"Very well," said Kembri. "I'll tell you more tomorrow."
The girl, about to get up, suddenly hesitated.
"Occula, my lord! Occula never done anything! You'll let her go?" .
"We ask the questions, not you," interposed the chief priest. "She's being held here for questioning. That's enough!"
The girl half-rose, gripping the edge of the table. Kembri was about to call in the guards to remove her when the door was opened from outside by a soldier who, raising his palm to his forehead, announced "My lord, the Sacred Queen!"
Next moment Queen Fornis, attended by the same dark-haired woman whom Maia had seen with her by the Barb, entered the room. The three examiners rose to their feet, Kembri motioning to Maia to go and stand against the further wall.
The Sacred Queen was dressed in a clinging robe of vivid purple, the crimson hem of which fell almost to her silver, bead-embroidered sandals. Her amazing hair, now piled on her head, was held in place by two jewelled combs and by a gold chain wound in and out of the tresses. Round her neck, on a second, finer chain, hung a silver leopard as big as her thumb. Her fingernails were lacquered crimson and on her left forefinger was a spiral ring in the
form of a gold serpent with ruby eyes.
Unhurriedly, she crossed the room and then motioned to her woman to drag Kembri's heavy, carved chair into the sunlight by the window. Having seated herself, she remained gazing towards the Lord General with a slight smile and an air of complete composure. Looking at her, Maia received an overwhelming impression of assured, self-seeking potency. It was as though she were possessed by an intense, ruthless force, at this present moment less evil than simply inhuman; a force which, like an animal, would unthinkingly and of its very nature pursue its object with no thought of anything beyond self-interest. The mere sight of her was disturbing, conveying as it did a sense of one possessing both more and less than normal human nature.
Maia realized furthermore that the three men, now seating themselves once more in response to her gesture, also felt--to some extent, at any rate--the same disquiet as herself.
"Well, Kembri," said the Sacred Queen at length, with a certain air of having waited long enough to be sure that no one was going to have the temerity to speak first, "have you found out the truth about the High Counselor's death?"
"Partly, esta-saiyett. But before we can be sure we shall need to examine several of those about to be arrested in the eastern provinces."
She spread her hands. "You have to do all this in order to work yourselves up to kill Santil-ke-Erketlis? Why not simply go and kill him?"
"I've already considered that, esta-saiyett, but Chalcon is remote, difficult country. We shall need to raise a special force for the purpose. In my view the real question is, once we openly declare Erketlis to be an enemy, how much support will he be able to attract to himself? We don't want to turn him into a heroic victim of Leopard tyranny throughout the eastern provinces. If only we can get positive proof that it was he who planned Sencho's death, then we've got law on our side: we can declare him a traitor and call him to account. Many more people will think twice about supporting him then."
She nodded absently, as though bored with all this reasoning, and merely waiting for him to be done.
While he was still speaking she made a gesture of dismissal to her woman, who raised her palm to her forehead and went out.