At this the poor wretch clearly felt himself--and whatever authority he might have tried to exercise--at a disadvantage.
"Well, no, not exactly, saiyett. But you see, it's early for anyone to be calling, and what with the doings at the temple and that, they weren't expecting--that's to say, the doorkeeper--"
--Had slipped away for a drink and a chat, she thought. It might have been fore-ordained. She gave the man two meld, at which he stared and bobbed his head.
"It doesn't matter: I shan't be more than a few minutes. I wish to speak with Her Sacred Majesty's personal steward. I know where to find him, so you can get back to your work."
She made her way along the jade-green colonnade, from the central ceiling of which hung the huge, winged figure she dimly recalled from the morning of her first arrival. It was, she now saw, an image of Canathron of Lapan, that vindictive dragon-god with serpent's head and condor's wings, flying inviolate through the midst of his nimbus of flames--fire being his natural element. Canathron was not worshipped in Bekla, except by such immigrant merchants and craftsmen as had come there from Lapan, and Maia could only guess that this must be an old treasure of the house; a gift, perhaps, or relic of some reign of a former Sacred Queen who had been Lapanese. She walked beneath it with mistrust and apprehension.
She knew nothing of Canathron, except that he was reputed to be pitiless to his enemies. Might he in some way, perhaps, be a tutelary guardian of the house? Yet not even Canathron--no god or goddess whatever--would condone the unspeakable treachery and wickedness which she had come to avenge at the cost of her own life. At this thought she raised her eyes boldly to his jeweled ones staring down, held his gaze a moment and then passed on to the foot of the staircase.
Climbing the two flights to the gallery at the top of the house, still she met no one. She had been half-afraid of coming upon the lad with the great hound, but all was quiet as could be. Knowing her way, she went along the corridor to the door of the queen's bedroom, laid her hand on the hilt of her knife and strode in without knock or call.
Occula was lying on the bed, playing with a white kitten: she was alone in the room. As Maia entered she started, and the kitten, taking fright, jumped down and ran away.
"Banzi! What the hell are you doin' here?"
"Where is she?" asked Maia.
"Banzi, have you gone out of your mind? Who let you in? Tell me what you're doin' here."
"Where is she?"
"D'you mean Fornis?" All in a moment Occula had leaped up, seized Maia by the shoulders, pulled open her cloak and disclosed the knife in its sheath. As she tried to take it from her Maia resisted fiercely, biting at her wrists. For fully a quarter of a minute the two girls struggled silently. Finally Occula stood back, panting.
"Banzi, just you give me that bastin' knife and get out of here! D'you realize she'll be back any minute and if she finds you here with that thing she'll have the perfect reason to see you put to death!"
"That's one thing she'll never see," answered Maia, "because I'm going to kill her first."
"Oh, for Cran's sake!" cried the black girl. "You never used to be such a damn' fool! Who let you in? Who knows you're here?"
"Don't matter. Once she's dead they can all do what they like. Or I will first."
Occula buried her face in her hands and moaned.
"O Kantza-Merada! I can't make you go if you woan'-- not without bringin' the whole place round us. Will you come with me to another room?"
Maia shook her head.
"But what's put you out of your senses like this, banzi? At least tell me that." She moaned again. "D'you realize every minute you stay here-- Banzi, my own dear little banzi, for the sake of everythin' there's ever been between us, tell me what's happened, only be quick about it!"
Maia told her of all she had done to save Tharrin, of her visit to the prison that morning and of what Pokada had told her about the earlier, clandestine visit of Ashaktis. As she spoke of seeing Tharrin's body in the cell she began to cry again but then, dashing away the tears and clenching her fists, she ended, "And now the gods have appointed me to kill her: that's for sure. Otherwise, how did I get in here so easy?"
"Banzi," said Occula, taking her hands, "you're wrong; and I'll tell you for why. I'm the one that's goin' to kill her; same as I killed Sencho. I'm the one the gods have appointed to put an end to these wicked people. I'm goin' to do it in my own way and my own good time; and when I'm done I'll walk out alive--you wait and see if I doan'. But it's a tricky business--for anyone that wants to stay alive, that is. The difference between you and me is, I know what I'm doin' and you doan'; not a bastin' thing. You'd just be throwin' your life away for nothin', because I'm goin' to get Miss Folda, and that damned Shakti woman, too. And I'm halfway there, banzi; I'm halfway there now! Doan', doan' go and throw your life away just because of poor Tharrin. She's guilty of far, far more than killin' Tharrin. She's guilty of every wickedness under the sun; murder, and treachery, and fraud--"
"Fraud!" cried Maia. "Poor Tharrin put that clean out of my head! Ten thousand meld!"
"You're better off without that lot, banzi, believe me. There's certain to be trouble, but at least you'll be able to say you never touched a meld of it. Now answer me: do you want to die horribly and quite unnecessarily for ten thousand meld and a poor man you can't help any more?"
Maia was silent. The telling of her bitter story to her dearest and most trusted friend had done much to set things in proportion and to bring home to her impulsive heart the grim reality of the price she had thought herself ready to pay for revenge on the Sacred Queen. To die by torture or to stab herself to the heart: neither would bring poor Tharrin back to life; and as for Randronoth's nine thousand meld, well, it had never been hers and she had never reckoned it would be. Anger and humiliation at being hoodwinked and tricked by Fornis--were these, perhaps, as much a part of her motive as her grief for Tharrin? Her resolution began to waver.
"Banzi, love," said Occula, "there's no time to lose. She'll be back any minute, and if I know anythin' about it she'll be like a goat on the loose. You doan' know what she's like after these little sprees down at the temple. I can hardly stand it myself, an' that's sayin' somethin'. If she finds you-- Banzi, give me that knife, and then I'll call Zuno to get you out of here. I suppose the knife's your soldier's, is it? I'll get it sent back later, somehow or other."
Maia was about to give Occula the knife when the black girl, who had gone over to the open door, suddenly turned, facing back towards her with an expression of utter terror and dismay.
"Banzi! She's back! She's only just along the corridor! O Cran save us, she'll be here in a minute!" She looked frantically round the room. "Get in there, quick! Get in that closet and doan' make a sound!"
Maia, with no feelings now but panic and desperation, slipped into the closet and lay down as Occula pushed the door shut. A few moments later the Sacred Queen entered the room.
It was clear that Fornis was wrought-up and in some kind of abnormal state. Her eyes were wide and her lips glistening and parted. She was panting and flushed and her hands trembled. As the black girl turned away from the closet and took a step towards her she mouthed "Occula! Yes!" in a kind of swift gasp, and then stood waiting, apparently for some attention there was no need to specify.
Occula at once went to the door and closed and locked it. Returning, she faced the queen and in a contemptuous tone, as though rebuking a slave, said "You're dirty! There's blood on your arms, you bitch!"
"Lick it off!" replied Fornis quickly. "Lick it off, Occula, lick it off!"
Occula complied, the queen holding out her arms, staring before her and standing still as a post while she did so.
The closet door had swung slightly ajar, but Maia, though terrified of discovery, did not dare to pull it to, for the queen was only two or three yards away from her. Form's, however, seemed in no frame of mind to notice anything. As Occula finished what she had been told to do, she sank to her knees on the floor, wiping her wet arms on her face and salivating down her chin.
"Well, and did you enjoy yourself down at the temple?" asked Occula in the same insolent tone, standing over her with her hands on her hips.
"OhJ--Two of them I did myself--how they screamed!" The queen clasped Occula round the waist.
"Get on with it, Occula! Hurry up!"
Occula spat in her face, pulled off the crown of Airtha, walked across to the mirror and adjusted it on her own head. Coming back, she ran her hands through the queen's elaborately-dressed hair, disheveling it until it hung round her shoulders in an unkempt tangle, and then, stooping, gripped the hem of the purple robe and tugged it roughly over her head.
Fornis, her lips twisted in an unnatural grimace, remained kneeling on the floor. Occula, opening a drawer, took out a coarse, sacking smock--the kind of garment commonly worn by kitchen-slaves too mean ever to appear except among their own kind--a floor-cloth and a hearth-brush. She was closing the drawer when Fornis, with a kind of moaning excitement, prompted her. "My shift, Occula, my shift!"
The black girl, crossing the room in two strides, seized the top of her embroidered silk shift between her hands, ripped it from hem to shoulder and tossed it into a corner.
Then, flinging the smock and implements on the floor, she went over to the dressing-table, sat down with her back turned and began polishing her nails.
Eagerly and hastily the queen put on the sacking smock, which was stained, ragged, and so rank that Maia could smell it from where she was crouching in the closet. Beggars in the lower city smelled less disgusting. Dragging over an earthenware jar of water standing in the far corner of the room, Fornis began washing the floor on her hands and knees.