"Nennaunir. You knew her very well at one time, didn't you? You saw her yesterday and talked about me?"
"Oh, she told you, did she?" For the first time he seemed displeased. "You've only to tell a girl something, and it goes buzzing about the city like a bluebottle."
"But darling, don't be silly; of course she told me. It was to help you! She told me you'd said you wanted me terribly, and would she speak to me about it? That was why I arranged for the auction at the barrarz, so that you could have me." (He'd believe this, she felt sure; and anyway it was near enough true.) "I'm not touching a meld of the money, you know."
Lying down once more beside her, he made no reply, only looking at her with an expression of disbelief.
"It's true, Randro. The money, that's between you and the Leopards--or the army--or the temple. One of them, anyway: how should I know? But it's not for me at all."
"Well, I heard Elvair said that, but I didn't believe him."
"Well, you can. All I'm asking for, on my own account, is the same as Nan asked you for--to get poor Sednil exchanged out of the temple: to take him down to Lapan and see if you can't discharge him early."
He frowned. "Sednil? What's Sednil to you? Why do you so particularly want me to take all this trouble over Sednil?"
At this she burst out at him. "Cran and Airtha, Randro, it's easy enough to see you've never been in trouble, let alone a slave! Can you imagine what it's like to be someone else's property? To possess nothing of your own, to have no rights at all, no say in where you go or what you do or even whether you live or die? That boy's as innocent as you and me" (and a damned sight more than you, she thought) "and if it hadn't been for that stupid ring of yours, as you gave to Nan, he'd be free today. He's Nan's friend and he's my friend. People like us, who've been down on our luck and seen bad times, we try to help each other. Is that so very hard to understand?"
"Oh, I love to see you get angry!" he said. "You really drive me crazy, Maia! All right, I'll get the boy exchanged, I promise you, and I'll have him discharged within three months. I was wrong: put your arms round,me. No, you stay on top. Oh, gods! Ah!"
Later he said, "You know I have to go back to Lapan today? Why don't you come with me? I'll make you--"
Gravely, she shook her head. "No, dear, that's impossible. Don't press me."
"I don't know how I'm going to live without you, Maia. It could easily drive me to desperation, d'you know that?"
"You say that now, Randro; but there's others. You can pretend otherwise."
"Not like you. I've never known anyone like you, Maia. I'll find some reason to come back soon. But if I do get Sednil released--and you can give Nennaunir my word for that--will you spend another night with me as soon as I can get back to Bekla? I shall be eating my heart out until then."
In spite of all she knew of him, she could not help feeling touched. The truth was that Maia had never quite been able to accept the effect of her beauty as something for which she bore no responsibility. (This was why she had behaved so generously and warmly to Selperron in the Caravan Market.) She knew that when Randronoth said that his longing made him feel desperate, he was speaking no more than the truth, and she felt not only sorry for him, but sorry also to have been the cause of it. In a way, she felt that she had wounded him for her own ends and ought perhaps to make some restitution. After all, she had quite deliberately set out to exploit his infatuation, and it had cost him enough.
"Well--"
He gripped her hand. "Yes?"
A promise with no date for fulfillment is always perilously easy to grant, especially for the young. Maia's mind was running with excitement and pleasure on the release of Tharrin. She felt full of the elation of success.
It had been a desperate venture and she had pulled it off. But she owed this to Randronoth--to his obsession and his reckless extravagance. Besides, to refuse would only upset him--just when everything had gone off so well. Nennaunir was going to be delighted, and she herself--well, she felt more than rich enough in spirit to give him a kind answer.
"Yes, darling, of course I will: only you must keep quiet about it. This auction was one thing, but if it gets round that you're counting on going to bed with me next time you come to Bekla, that'll be--well, I mean--I'd be--"
He smiled. "Compromised?"
"Something o' that. Any road, I wouldn't want everyone knowing: so just you remember."
Suddenly she sat up in alarm, listening. "Whatever's that downstairs?"
What she had heard was heavy knocking at the outer door. There followed JarviFs voice and another male voice answering. Randronoth, also listening, nodded unperturbed.
"That'll be two of my men, bringing your money. I sent them orders last night, before we left the barrarz."
"You mean it's really down there? Nine thousand meld, in coin? Oh, Randro! Thank you! Thank you!"
She kissed him more warmly than she had throughout the entire night. "Oh, I must go down and see it!"
Jumping out of bed, she flung her robe round her. Then, turning back to him with shining eyes, "Of course it's not that I don't trust you! You know that. It's just that--oh, I'm so glad! I'm so happy about it!"
He frowned, puzzled. "But you just said you weren't going to get any of it for yourself. Maia, what's all this about? Has it got you out of a mess or something?"
She kissed him quickly. "I'll answer that if you'll answer me another. Nine thousand meld--in ready money. Where did it come from?"
That had stopped him in his tracks all right; she could see that. He paused.
"Never ask me, Maia; you leave that to me. I'm hopelessly in love with you: I had to have you. That's enough for you--and best for you, too, believe me. Come on, I'll go downstairs with you and make sure it's all there. Then we'll have breakfast--I need it--and after that I'll have to go. I wonder whether you'll ever realize how much you've given me!"
She had given him nothing, she thought. He had sought pleasure, he had found pleasure, but she had not bestowed it. How strange that he should be in no doubt that he had acquired something which she had not conferred; and more, that he should be so much dominated by this unreality! Just so, old Drigga had once told her, might two people be together and one see a ghost while the other could not.
; The Sacred Queen's garden was no less fresh and morning-scented than on the day before. The peacock was busy among a handful of cornseed which a gardener's boy was scattering on the sunny lawn, while from somewhere out of sight, behind the purple lam bushes, sounded the clicking of a pair of shears.
Maia, without waiting to announce her arrival, made her way round to the stone doorway. Direct prayers were never offered to Frella-Tiltheh--the unknown and un-knowable--but for a full minute or more she stood silently, with bowed head and outstretched palms, beneath the niche containing the cowled figure of the goddess; so long, in-deed, that at length Brero, waiting behind her, put down the box containing the money and turned aside to watch a squirrel in a near-by tree.
When at length she knocked, Zuno opened the door almost immediately. Pausing only a moment to glance towards the soldier in attendance behind her, he led the way across the red-and-white tiled hall and up the staircase. Plainly, she thought, her arrival had been expected; no doubt the events of the night were already known to the Sacred Queen.
At the top of the stairs he turned and said, "You're to go straight in. She's due at the temple soon, you see, and she won't--" He hesitated. "She certainly doesn't mean to be late."
The bedroom door was standing open. Maia stopped in the entrance, looking in. Fornis was bustling about the room, moving hastily from one place to another, yet to all appearances doing nothing in particular. She seemed both excited and preoccupied. As Maia watched, she spread out her hands in front of her, examining first one side and then the other. Next moment she picked up her comb and looked in the mirror, but almost at once put it down, went across to the window and stood tapping her fingers on the sill. She was wearing a deep-purple robe embroidered with gold thread and her hair, piled high, was enclosed within the sacred crown of Airtha. Now, at close quarters, Maia recognized the great emerald which Occula, in the temple, had known for her father's. Of Ashaktis there was no sign: the Sacred Queen was alone.