His strange, alarmed reaction when he had first seen her at Bayub-Otal's lodgings--after two days in his company it struck her as oddly out of character. This rather grim, unexcitable man, who seldom wasted a word--for some reason the mere sight of her had put him in fear, and that to such an extent that Bayub-Otal had had to check him. Try as she would, she could think of no plausible reason. First time anyone's ever been afraid of me, she thought, without it was Nala.
She was feeling warmer now. Resting her forehead on her forearms, she relaxed, breathing slowly and deeply. Her thoughts began to wander into fantasy. She imagined herself back in Bekla, a famous shearna, her fortune made; living with Occula in their own house; sought after, receiving and refusing whom she would; lying late, rising in the afternoon, calling their maid to help her bathe and dress for the evening. Five hundred meld a night. A thousand meld a night! A great, soft bed all covered with silk--ah!-- soft as--the lake--floating--under the waterfall--scent of water-mint--wavering down, deep water. Deep.
Her body was jarred by a thudding blow. For an instant it formed part of her dream as a kind of explosion, shattering from about her the lake, the sun and the sky above. She struggled against it, trying to hold on to the lake, trying to stop the fragments dispersing. Then came the inrush of shock and she leapt wide awake as a second thud jolted her against the stony floor of the cave.
It was gray daylight; not yet sunrise, but fully light enough to see. A man was standing over her. For a moment she thought it was Pillan; then realized with terror that it was a stranger, a man she had never seen in her life. As she sprang to her feet, stumbling over the hem of her cloak, he grabbed her by the arm, jerking her up and forcing her round to face him.
He was bearded, dark and stocky; broad-featured, perhaps forty years old, with the weathered appearance of a soldier or a hunter. There was about him also the air of a man accustomed to command.
Ruthless and hard he certainly looked, yet no ruffian. His eyes, as they stared into hers, had a look of assurance and authority, as though he were one who seldom needed to use violence except in the last resort.
He was wearing a padded leather surcoat, a sword at his belt and a helmet of smooth, hardened leather.
His left hand gripped Maia's arm: his right was holding a dagger, its point towards her.
Speechless with fear and the shock of her awakening, she now saw that this stranger was not alone.
With him were two younger men, similarly armed. One of these, also holding a dagger, was kneeling beside Pillan, whom he was shaking awake. The other, black against the light, stood at the mouth of the cave, his sword drawn in his hand.
The dark man spoke in an accent strange to Maia, but perfectly intelligible. "What are you doing here? Who are you?"
The unfamiliar cadence, which seemed all of a piece with his bellicose appearance, frightened her still more. For an instant the thought whirled across her confused mind that perhaps he was not human. Old Drigga had told her of forest demons who had power to take the semblance of men, yet always with some revealing imperfection-- ears, hands, voice or the like.
Cowering from him, she would have fallen, but his grip literally held her upright: as her eyes once more met his, he shook her so that she lurched against him.
"Come on, answer me! Who are you?"
Pillan was awake now. The man kneeling on the floor had his knife at his throat.
"I think this is a Suban, sir."
The dark man, without relinquishing his agonizing grip on Maia's arm, was about to answer when Bayub-Otal's voice spoke from the back of the cave.
"Lenkrit! What on earth are you doing here?"
The dark man, startled, let go of Maia, who fell against the cave-wall as Bayub-Otal, still wrapped in his cloak, came forward, stepped over Pillan and stood smiling in the light from the cave-mouth.
"You'd better sit down, Lenkrit. And for Gran's sake put your knife away. You're terrifying the poor girl."
"Anda-Nokomis!" replied the dark man, staring. Then, so suddenly that, far from reassuring her, it only added to Maia's dreamlike bewilderment, he burst into a great shout of laughter. "Anda-Nokomis! O Shakkarn, and we nearly cut all your throats! That'd have been a right start to the war, that would! Here, Thel, get up, man! Get up and let that fellow alone! What's his name, Anda-Nokomis--I remember him--Billan--Tillan--something or other?"
He sheathed his knife and, stepping forward, flung his arms round Bayub-Otal's neck and embraced him.
"Pillan. Who's with you; just these two lads, or are there anymore?"
"No, just the three of us. This is Thel, and that's Tescon. Their fathers are both tenants of mine. You'd better come back here now, Tescon. If you never saw him before, this is Anda-Nokomis."
Both the young men, smiling, stood in front of Bayub-Otal, raised their palms to their foreheads and then offered him their daggers, holding them by the blades. Bayub-Otal, also smiling, took each in turn for a moment and then returned it to its owner. Pillan, who had uttered no word since he was woken, was now standing behind Bayub-Otal with folded arms.
"And the wench?" asked the dark man.
Bayub-Otal, as though recollecting himself, went quickly across to Maia, put his arm round her and supported her to a low rock near the cave-mouth.
"You've frightened the life out of her, Lenkrit. She's still trembling and can you blame her? What happened, Maia? Did they rush you or didn't you hear them coming?"
"I--I was asleep, my lord: I'm very sorry."
"That's right!" cried Lenkrit, with another great laugh. "All the damned lot of you, sound as toads in a winter ditch! Lespa's stars, Anda-Nokomis, it's lucky for you she is a wench: else we'd likely have knifed the lot of you in your sleep and that would have been that. What's she doing here, anyway?"
"Either you're rather forgetful, Lenkrit, or else you're rather unobservant," replied Bayub-Otal. "Your lads here are too young, but you're not. Take another good look at her now."
Lenkrit turned and regarded Maia steadily in the now-clear light. When he next spoke it was in a quieter, rather hesitant, tone of voice.
"I--see, Anda-Nokomis. I wonder I didn't before. But the light was bad, of course, and we were all a bit flustered. And then, poor girl, someone's been knocking her about, haven't they? But--well, it's incredible--amazing! Your sister, is she? I never knew you had one."
Bayub-Otal shook his head. "As far as I know, she's no relation at all. Her name's Maia and she comes from Tonilda. Strange; isn't it? In Bekla she belonged to that brute Sencho: she was--well, in his household."
Lenkrit drew in his breath sharply. "Was it her that killed him, then? And
you got her out? Is that it?"
"No, she didn't kill him, but she was being questioned by the priests. She managed to escape from the temple and we got her out of Bekla with us the night before last."
Lenkrit took Maia's two hands in his own and kissed them.
"Well, Shakkarn be praised I didn't kill you, Maia." Then, seeing her puzzled expression, he turned back once more to Bayub-Otal. "Hasn't she been told?"
Again Bayub-Otal shook his head. "Not yet. And not until I say." Then, abruptly, "Have you got food? Let's talk while we eat. Maia, I must explain to you. This is Lord Lenkrit-Duhl, the Ban of northern Suba. He and I are old friends, but what he's doing here I don't know any more than you do. No doubt he's going to tell us."
They sat down and the two young men, opening their packs, took out hard bread, cheese and dried tendrionas. Maia, who was still feeling badly shaken, did her best to swallow a few mouthfuls. She had grasped little of the conversation, but at least she knew that she was no longer in danger of her life.
"You were in Bekla when Sencho was killed, then, Anda-Nokomis?" asked Lenkrit.
Bayub-Otal nodded. "I was in the gardens that night. So was she--she was actually one of the girls attending on him."
"So of course they arrested her: I see. And they've been setting about her, by the looks of it. They didn't arrest you, though?"
"They would have, but two nights ago I got a warning to clear out. I bribed the tryzatt at one of the gates and we were away before dawn. But what can you tell me, Lenkrit?"
Lenkrit wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tossed what was left of his bread to Thel to put back in the pack.
"Karnat himself s in Suba now. He must have got about six thousand men there: and Suba itself s been preparing since the end of Melekril."
Bayub-Otal nodded. "That was why I stayed on in Bekla-- to do my best to mislead them and disarm suspicion." He held up his right hand in his left and let it drop again. "More useful in my case than reporting to Karnat for sword-practice, wouldn't you agree?"