"And then, before Lord Kerith-a-Thrain had had time to speak to him, the High Baron--I heard him very plain-- he said 'Keep the men here, Kerith, I'm going out to talk to her about my son. I shan't need to take anyone with me.'
"Well, then, Lord Kerith, he tried to argue, my lord, but I won't waste your time with that. In the end the High Baron walked out between the two armies all by himself, and we saw him go up to the queen, and the two of them was talking and then they disappeared together--back through the enemy's line, I mean.
"Well, we was stood there a goodish time and then at last the High Baron came out and walked back to us: and he said to Lord Kerith-a-Thrain, 'She's promised to release my son. She's asked that we divide into two parts, as a sign of good faith--one here and one over there.' So Lord Kerith-a-Thrain said, 'I don't like that, my lord,' but the High Baron said, 'I want my son out of her hands: she's sworn by Frella-Tiltheh to do us no harm. Do as I say.'
"Well, so then he went back, my lord, and Lord Kerith-a-Thrain broke us into two lines, facing inwards, I suppose about three or four hundred yards apart. And we stood watching while the queen and her Palteshi officers led their army forward between us. The High Baron was walking beside her, and a young man as must have been his son, I suppose.
"And then, my lord, when they'd got fairly in between our two lines, the queen suddenly called out, and the men who were with her--four or five of them--they turned and set upon the High Baron and the young man and cut them down, and the queen stood and watched them do it.
"When Lord Kerith-a-Thrain saw that, he called out to attack them and so we did. But there weren't enough of us, you see. I'm certain we could have held off any sort of attack they might have made on us, but we simply hadn't got the numbers to make an attack ourselves--specially split in two like we were. There wasn't the coordination, like, you see, and most of the lads were that shaken by what they'd seen--well, there was something uncanny about it, my lord; hundreds standing watching and the High Baron going along that quiet and trusting--almost like he was a kind of sacrifice, as you might say. I can see it now, and the queen standing over his body on the ground. We was going in all anyhow and-and--well, it didn't work out, my lord, that's all.
"I never seen the end of it, because Lord Kerith-a-Thrain told one of our tryzatts to send two men back to Bekla at once with the news. So me and a mate of mine, Crevin, was told to get back here as quick as we could. I won't say I was sorry to be picked, either. Tell you the truth, I was glad to get out of it. We've never stopped, Crevin and me, for well over twenty-four hours. I'm all in and that's a fact."
"Where's Crevin now?" asked Randronoth sharply.
"Gone to the Barons' Palace, my lord, to report to Lord Eud-Ecachlon."
Randronoth turned to Maia. "This may turn out all to the good: Fornis is bound to have had losses. You've done well," he said to Brero. "Here's twenty meld. You'd better go and get yourself something to eat and drink."
"Why can't he bathe and eat here?" asked Maia.
Randronoth shook his head. "No, not here."
She felt angry. "Why not?"
"That's all right, saiyett," said Brero, before she could remonstrate further. "I'll just be getting back to quarters now. I expect we'll meet again when things are quieter. I hope so, I'm sure."
He saluted, turned on his heel and left the house.
And now what? wondered Maia. But she could not think clearly, could not dispel the dreadful picture in her mind's eye--the brown, dusty plain in the fierce heat, the divided, inward-facing ranks of the Beklans watching uneasily; and between them the gray, stooping figure of Durakkon, with his son, pacing beside the Sacred Queen--yes, in all truth as though ensorcelled, she thought. Who else but Form's could have exercised this power to make a man hand himself over to his own destruction; and then devised so stylish a public ceremony of treachery and murder? What pleasure and satisfaction it must have given her! Far more than the relatively paltry affair of Tharrin.
And what now? What now? Assuming that Fornis's Palteshis had succeeded in beating off the Beklan attack and getting between Bekla and Kerith-a-Thrain, they would probably reach the city some time tomorrow; certainly no later than the day after. Yet before then Randronoth's men would have arrived.
What would Eud-Ecachlon do? He would presumably be forced to make common cause with Randronoth: he would have no choice. And he would probably have been safe enough in doing so, too, thought Maia, had his enemy been anyone but Form's. For Maia, who had thought she knew the Sacred Queen, was now beginning--as had others in the past--to descry in her undreamt-of, far horizons of cunning and cruelty, and attribute to her insuperable powers. If Fornis intended to take Bekla, no doubt she possessed the demonic means to do so.
Randronoth was speaking. "What did you say?" she asked him dully.
"I said, 'I'm going up to the roof to watch for Seekron. Will you please come with me?' "
"I want to lie down," she said. "I feel bad."
"Tell your slave to bring a mattress up, then."
There was an awning over one corner of the roof, and here she lay in the hot, windless shade, hands pressed over her throbbing eyes. The Sacred Queen was coming: Zenka was in her power. And not only Zenka, but Anda-No-komis, towards whom her feelings were now utterly changed. She was a Suban by blood; he was not only her cousin but her rightful lord, to whom accordingly she owed a sacred duty of service and loyalty. Yet how could she hope to help either of them now?
Her very thoughts had become hysterical. She was obsessed by the figure of the approaching queen, the queen never at a loss for some vile, unforeseeable stratagem.
To her the queen no longer seemed a human opponent, but a kind of inanimate doom: a black pit; or rather, perhaps, a flexible, sticky web, in which the more one struggled the more one became enmeshed, until at length the victim hung inert--whether dead or dying was of no consequence, though the latter would afford the queen more enjoyment. So terrible now to Maia was this access of helplessness and despair that had it not been for Randronoth's enforced restraint she might, despite her love for Zen-Kurel, have fled from the city--yes, alone and on foot--anywhere, so long as it was away from Fornis. She did not believe that the combined forces of Randronoth and Eud-Ecachlon--she did not believe that any power on earth--could prevent Fornis from entering Bekla and putting her to death.
Once more--after how long she could not tell, though opening her eyes she saw that the sun was westering;--she was roused from her desolation by the sound of knocking below. She would have got up and looked over the parapet, but Randronoth, gripping her arm, held her where she was, himself kneeling beside her and waiting. After less than a minute they heard Ogma calling from below.
"Can't I go down?" she said.
"No: tell her to come up here."
Before Ogma had uttered a word it was plain that her news was bad. She stared from one of them to the other as though afraid to speak. Maia, catching her fear, started forward.
"What's happened? Who is it, Ogma?"
"It's--it's Lokris, Miss Maia," stammered Ogma, but said no more, as though to remain silent might somehow prevent the news from being true.
"Lokris? From Milvushina?"
"Oh, Miss Maia, she's been taken bad! She's in labor before her time! Lokris says the midwives are there and the doctor too, and they're afraid for her. She's in a bad way, Lokris says: and she's asked for you to go to her as quick as you can."
"Milvushina!" cried Maia. "Oh, why didn't I think of it before? I might 'a guessed!"
"Seems as 'twas all the upset and worry, Miss Maia; Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion coming back the way he did--"
"Yes, of course--"
"Lokris says ever since he got back, miss, he's shut himself up alone in the Barons' Palace. He wouldn't go to the Lord General's house. So in the end Miss Milvushina took Lokris with her and went to the Palace herself, but he wouldn't see even her; and that's where she was took ba
d. That's where she is now."
"Oh, my lord--Randro--" Maia collected herself. "Ogma, go down and tell Lokris to go back and say I'm coming at once."
As soon as the girl had gone she turned back to Randronoth. "Randro, I promise you--I swear by Frella-Til-theh I'll say nothing to Eud-Ecachlon or to anyone else. I swear I'll come straight back here--oh, within the hour if you say so--only please let me go to Milvushina!"
He shook his head. "This is war, Maia: Seekron will be here before sunset. Eud-Ecachlon--Elvair-ka-Virrion-- they're the enemy. I can't let you go anywhere where you might talk to them."
"But if I don't go it'll look more suspicious! Surely you can see that?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "By tonight the city will be in my hands. Until then you must stay here. Anyway, what good could you do?"
"She's my friend and she's in bad trouble! Oh, Randro, you said you loved me!"
"This is no time to argue, Maia."
Suddenly in the midst of her frenzied fear for Milvushina, an idea came into her mind; one so simple that she could only wonder that it should not have occurred to her before. This was Randronoth that she was dealing with-- Randronoth who had paid nine thousand meld.
She sat down and dried her eyes. After a little--he was still looking out southward--she said, "Well, I can see your point of view, Randro. It is war, and I know you've got to think of your men first. I'm sorry you reckon you can't trust me, but there it is: I must just try and accept it, mustn't I? Shall we go down, now, and have a drink in the garden? I could do with it, I know that. One of your soldiers could watch for half an hour, couldn't he?"