"I will forgive you. In fact, I have your comfort so much at heart, both of you, that I'm going to make you an offer. Would either of you like Meris's room?"
"Meris's room, saiyett? You mean, change over, and her to have ours?"
"No, that isn't what I said. I asked whether either of you would like Meris's room. If one of you would, then the other can stay in the room where you are now and have it to herself--for the time being, at all events."
"What about Meris, then, saiyett?"
"Meris is to be sold. In fact, she has already been sold."
"Cran and Airtha!" said Occula, startled out of her usual deferential manner. "Bit sudden, wasn' it?"
Terebinthia made no reply.
"Who to, saiyett?" asked Maia.
"That doesn't concern you," replied Terebinthia. "Well, am I to have an answer or not?"
Occula and Maia looked at each other.
"I'd really prefer to stay with Maia, saiyett," said Occula. "We--well, we're quite happy as we are, you know."
"Very well: as long as you realize that that means when another girl's been bought, she'll have Meris's room to herself. I don't want to hear any complaints from either of you. And now, something else: suppose I were to agree, Maia, to your going out, do you think you could behave properly and do us credit?"
"Going out, saiyett?" Maia looked up nervously.
Terebinthia, with the complacent air of one who has something unexpected and pleasant to disclose, sat down and called to Ogma to bring some wine, evidently waiting for Maia to question her further. Since Maia said nothing, however, but only continued to look at her with apprehension, she finally turned towards Occula and remarked, "Apparently Maia doesn't want to go: perhaps you'd better go instead, Occula. What do you think?"
"I've no idea, saiyett, until you tell me," replied Occula rather pertly.
Maia drew in her breath, but as usual Occula had judged Terebinthia's mood correctly and was sailing with the wind.
"Somethin's pleased you, saiyett, hasn' it?" went on the black girl. "Woan' you be kind enough to tell us what it is, instead of teasin' my poor little Maia, who really doesn' deserve it after all she's done for the High Counselor?"
She put one arm round Maia's neck and kissed her. "Ask her, banzi," she breathed in her ear. "She wants it."
"Well, always do the best I could, saiyett," said Maia. "Where'm I s'posed to go, then?"
"Somewhere--very exalted," replied Terebinthia deliberately. "That is, if I choose. You may think, Maia, that just because some important personage has taken a fancy to you, I have no say in the matter. But I could quite easily advise that I don't think you're ready yet for an honor of this kind, and that would be the end of it."
"But wouldn' that rather depend, saiyett," asked Occula, "on how badly the--er--personage wanted her?"
"Not at all," replied Terebinthia. "It would depend on what the High Counselor, whose property she is, thought of my advice."
"Saiyett," said Occula, "I doan' think Maia's quite grasped yet what this is all about: but I have. The plain truth is, isn' it, that someone who saw her at the banquet has asked the High Counselor whether she's--well, available; and you're pleased about it, aren' you?"
Terebinthia nodded. "Yes. Yes, on the whole, I am. And Maia certainly ought to be." She paused.
"Now listen, Maia. First of all, if you've got any idea of trying to run away when you get outside, don't. It would be a shame to see a girl like you hanging upside-down, which is what happens to runaway slaves."
"Run away, saiyett?" replied Maia incredulously. "But I'm better off here than I've ever been in my life!"
This was uttered with such obvious conviction that Terebinthia dropped the matter.
"Now the next thing. Do you know the rules?" she asked.
"The rules, saiyett?"
"No, of course she doesn'!" cried Occula. "She doesn' even know what you're talkin' about. Oh, saiyett, do tell us who it is! I'm like a goat in heat to know!"
"All in good time. Maia, do you know what a lygol is?"
"No, saiyett. Well, that is, I've sort of heard the word, but--"
"A girl like you can expect to receive not less than a hundred meld as a--well--a token of esteem, after a visit of this kind. That's called a lygol. But you are not a girl in a pleasure-house, do you see? You're the property of the High Counselor, lent as a favor to another personage of importance. You don't ask for a lygol, either in advance or afterwards. You accept whatever you're given with graceful thanks." She took a step forward and, putting a hand under Maia's chin, lifted her face to her own. "And the rule in this household is unusually generous. You're allowed to keep two-fifths of it. The rest is a matter between the High Counselor and myself; do you see? So don't try to be clever. You'll only wish you hadn't, and I'd hate to see you finish up like Meris."
As Terebinthia said this, staring into Maia's eyes, she looked, for a moment, so appallingly omniscient and malevolent that Maia, with a little cry, drew back, trembling.
"Of course I won't, saiyett!"
"Then we understand each other," said Terebinthia, patting her cheek. "Now, as you know, the High Counselor doesn't keep litter-slaves. In the normal way you'd walk, accompanied by Jarvil or one of the house-servants. However, you can't do that in the rain; you wouldn't arrive fit to be seen. A covered jekzha will be best. When you arrive there'll be someone like me, and she will pay the jekzha-man, do you understand? Be ready about two hours after noon tomorrow. In fact, I'll come and dress you myself."
She drained off her wine and turned towards the door.
"But who is it, saiyett?" cried Occula, running after her and seizing her arm. "Who is it? Who is it?"
"Oh, yes, to be sure; I'd quite forgotten," said Terebinthia, pausing in the doorway. "I'm glad you reminded me. It's--the Lord General Kembri-B'sai."
With a light clashing of the bead curtains she was gone, leaving Occula and Maia staring at each other across the cushioned bench.
"Lespa's stars, banzi!" said Occula. "Do you realize, my girl, what you've been and gone and done?" She caught Maia's two hands, swung her round and bowed to her like a dancing-partner. Then, imitating Terebinthia's voice, "The Lord General Kembri-B'sai!"
"Oh, don't!" cried Maia desperately. "Oh, I only just wish it had been you, Occula! Whatever am I going to do?"
"How about lying down on your back, with your legs apart?" said Occula. "For a start, anyway." She ran a hand through her wiry curls. "After that your guess is as good as mine. But do try not to make a mess of it, s
weetheart, woan' you? It's one hell of an opportunity."
26: KEMBM'S PLEASURE
Maia, a green silk cloak thrown over her pale-blue metlan, silver necklace and bracelets, was met in the covered forecourt of the Lord General's house by the same gracious, fair-haired woman who had opened her litter on the night of the Rains banquet. Her easy, professional affability was so welcome and reassuring that Maia forgot to ask her to pay the jekzha-man, who stood about stamping his feet and coughing until told sharply to go and see the porter.
Thereupon the saiyett led Maia through the courtyard and up a different staircase, which led into a long gallery. Brilliantly-colored, woven hangings covered the whole length of the wall opposite the windows, and in front of these, at regular intervals, stood seven jewelled and painted statues representing the gods and goddesses worshipped throughout the empire: Cran, his hair cloven with lightning, his arms lifted in the act of parting the sky from the earth; Airtha of the Diadem, big-bellied and smiling, suck-ling a crowned infant at each golden breast; Shakkarn, horned and hoofed with topaz, his bearded mouth frothing sulphur as he thrust forward like a spear his ruby-headed zard; white Lespa, a rippling, floating vision of mercy, crowned with stars and bending forward in the act of scattering dreams from her opal-studded basket upon the sleeping earth; Shardik the bear, his eyes two smoldering garnets, one huge, clawed paw raised to smite as he ramped upon his terraced Ledges; Canathron, glaring from a thicket of copper flames and raising aloft his serpent's head and condor's wings; and lastly Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, cowled, her face invisible, poised on Crandor's summit as she pointed with one lean finger to the tamarrik seed sprouting at her feet.
Maia, following her guide and stealing past these tremendous presences in so much awe that she scarcely dared to glance at them--for if asked, she would not have been at all sure that they did not embody the actual deities themselves--came to a dark-and-light, zig-zag-panelled door which recalled to her the decorated walls of the dining-hall above. Here the saiyett stopped and, turning to Maia with a smile, made her a little, ironical bow as she held open the door with one bare, white arm.