Maia (Beklan Empire 1)

"So you came in here by yourself? That must have taken some courage."

"She's the Serrelinda, sir, ain't she?" said one of the men.

"We'll escort you as far as the Blue Gate," said the captain. "I've got to g

o back there, anyway."

Before she could reply the door opened and two of the three soldiers returned. With them were Bayub-Otal and-- and--O Cran!--her heart missed a beat and she actually staggered, clutching at the captain's arm for support. Yes, it was indeed Zen-Kurel.

If the sight of Zirek had caught her unprepared, the sight of Zen-Kurel utterly overwhelmed her. She stood crushed and shattered by the recognition, tears streaming from her eyes.

Not infrequently it happens that a person--or even a place--deeply loved and lost, becomes in memory more an idea in the heart than a precise visual recollection. It is as though what has been clung to and valued were not the outward semblance, the visible form--that is only the shell of a nut--but rather what it signifies. Thus, the mem-ory of home is less the actual look of the place than the recollection of security and of being cherished. To a girl, the memory of her lover may well transcend his bodily and facial appearance--left far below, as it were--to signify rather the delight of love-making and of being understood and esteemed more deeply than she had ever believed possible. Actually to set eyes on him once more in the flesh often has an unexpected impact, for in absence the mind had retained only vaguely the details of features; yet now these, which during separation were confined in some shadowy kennel of the memory, come bounding forth, pell mell, like released dogs jumping on a homecoming master and stopping him in his tracks.

Yet Maia's case, though of this nature, was in addition grievous and horrifying beyond expression. What she felt was like the infliction of a wound. Her first, spontaneous association was of a ballad that old Drigga used to sing-- a ballad which, when she had been a little girl, had more than once frightened her to tears. It was the chilling tale of Terembro, the dead lad who returned to visit his former love by night.

The very words came back to her; she could hear them, sung in old Drigga's quavering voice.

"O my dear heart, my dearest lover,

Where's that color you'd some time ago?"

"O the grave has worn me and the clay has torn me;

I'm but the ghost of your Terembro."

Bayub-Otal, tall and raw-boned as he had always been, looked more or less as she remembered, though plainly suffering from cruel privation. But Zen-Kurel; her beautiful Zenka, the handsome, light-hearted, devil-may-care young officer who had made her laugh for joy at nothing, had teased her out of absurdity and then teased her back into it, in whose secure arms she had lain in tears of happiness! Ah! gods! nothing in her life had ever remotely approached what she underwent in the moment that she recognized this groping, helpless wreck of her former lover. It was not possible, she thought, to suffer like this. It was beyond the frame of the world and the order of things appointed: the gods must surely intervene to stop it. Yet they did not.

Zen-Kurel was hollow-faced and very pale, skeletal in appearance, breathing in gasps and shivering continually. His eyes were half-closed, his cracked lips dry and his mouth fallen open. The soldiers had each drawn one of his arms round their necks and were gripping his wrists; otherwise he would have fallen. His knees were bent and his head hung forward on his chest. He did not look up as he was brought into the room, and seemed unaware of his surroundings.

The sight shocked everyone present. One soldier uttered an exclamation of horror, cut quickly short.

After a few moments Mendel-el-Ekna said to Maia, "You say you mean to take them out of the city--both these men?"

With a great effort she controlled herself. "Yes; I must."

"Well, it's for you to say, saiyett: I'm at your orders. But that man--he's a Katrian, isn't he?--do you think he can do it? He's very bad indeed: anyone can see that."

"If only we can get them both away--just a few miles, captain--I'll be able to look after them. I'd be more than glad of your help."

"Very well; you shall have it." He turned to one of his men. "That damned swine of a governor--go and make him give you a stretcher. We'll get them as far as the Blue Gate for a start."

The stretcher, made of poles and sacking, was stained with what looked like dried blood. Maia recoiled from the thought of its probable use in the routine of the prison.

Zen-Kurel had shown ho sign of recognizing her, but for the matter of that she doubted whether he had any idea at all of where he was or of anyone around him. Bayub-Otal, however, took her hand, looking at her gravely.

"We owe this release to you, Maia?"

"Yes, Anda-Nokomis."

"Strange! You say you're going to take us out of Bekla?"

"Ah, that's if we can; only it's risky, see?"

"I believe you. Who are these men?"

"Lapanese."

"Lapanese? Where's Kembri, then?"

"Gone south to fight Erketlis. The Lapanese are in re-volt--they mean to take the city before Fornis can."

"Then I suppose we may--But Zen-Kurel's in a very bad way, Maia: I only hope he can survive."

"We must get him out of here," she answered. "Away from Fornis, that's the first thing. Look, they're ready to go."

Mendel-el-Ekna himself accompanied them, with eight men. It was not until they came out from the Shilth into the western end of the Sheldad that Maia grasped the full extent of the chaos. Far and near, the entire city was full of flame and clamor. Frighteningly close, in the half-dark-ness, a running fight was going on between two bands of soldiers; yet she was quite unable to tell which side was which. All around them rose shouting and the clash of arms. Dead bodies sprawled in the road and wounded men were crying out and cursing. The captain remained entirely unmoved.

"Nothing to worry about, saiyett: our people have got things well in hand. Whatever you do, just keep going."

As they stumbled on, it became clear that the whole length of the Sheldad was taken up with the fighting.

Soon they were forced to a halt. Gangs of rogues and beggars, more dangerous than wild animals, were dodging among the soldiers, robbing whom they could and looting booths and shops. In doorways Maia could see grim-faced men with cudgels in their hands, plainly ready to defend their premises against all comers. From upper windows screaming women were pelting raiders trying to break in below. In several places fires had started, and above the all-per-vading din rose sounds of crackling flames, falling beams and the intermittent crash of collapsing roofs. A lurid glow blotted out the stars.

"Do you know your way through this damned place?" shouted the captain in her ear.

"Best go down to the Slave Market, I reckon," she answered, "and then try to get up the Kharjiz and past the temple."

Once out of the Sheldad they met with less trouble. What isolated fighting they came upon they were able to avoid, while almost all the looters and footpads who saw them sidled off, daunted by the sight of their breastplates and weapons. They had one brief skirmish, however, with an armed gang too drunk to realize they had met their match. Mendel-el-Ekna went for them with grim relish, dropping two in the gutter before the rest took to their heels. Twenty hectic minutes later they reached the Blue Gate.

Here a noisy, milling crowd were being held in check by a line of Lapanese soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder, spears extended and swords stuck ready to hand into the timbers at their backs. The captain's men, with some difficulty, forced a way through for Zen-KurePs stretcher. The tryzatt in command of the spearmen, sweating and helmetless, saluted Mendel-el-Ekna with a look of relief.

"Any chance you can give us a hand, sir? Count Seekron's orders, to let no one through the gate, but they're all in a panic to get out of the city and I don't know how much longer we can hold them."

"Where

Suddenly, from near the front of the crowd, a voice shouted, "Maia! Maia!" Turning, she saw Zirek and Meris trying to push their way towards her. She gripped Mendel-el-Ekna's arm, pointing.

"Captain, that's the man and the girl I told you about; the ones who were with me. Please get them over here if you can!"

"Bring them into the guard-room!" shouted the captain to two of his men. "And you'd better get in there, too, before you get hurt," he added to Maia. "Go on; I'll see to your friends!"

Thus, after the lapse of a year--and hardly in better case--Maia entered once more the guard-room where she and Occula had been befriended by the soldiers on that sweltering afternoon when they had trudged into Bekla behind Zuno's jekzha.

Two minutes later she was joined by Zirek and Meris. Meris had a swollen lip and a cut on one arm.

"Right; now we've got to get you out," said Mendel-el-Ekna. "Can you walk?" he asked Bayub-Otal.

The Ban of Suba shrugged. "When I can't, I'll stop."

"Then the quicker you're all gone the better. Serrelinda, I can spare you two men to carry the stretcher. But get him to some sort of shelter as soon as you can, do you see? Otherwise he'll die. And then send my men straight back; I need them."

She kissed his hands and thanked him with tears in her eyes, but he made light of it.

"Oh, I'd do more than that for you, Serrelinda. Don't worry, I'll tell Lord Randronoth we got you and your friends away all right. See you when you get back."

The tryzatt opened the postern and in the flickering darkness they slipped through behind the line of spearmen. Immediately the door shut to behind them. In front, on either side, stretched the high, backward-tilting walls of the outer precinct, leading down to the caravan roads be-low.

"Which way?" asked Bayub-Otal as they reached it. He spoke gaspingly, through clenched teeth.

"That's for you to say, my lord," she replied.

"I'd say south, my lord," said Zirek. "But it might be best to get off the road soon. I reckon the less we're seen thebetter."

"Then south it is," said Bayub-Otal.

Ten minutes later Maia looked back. The eastern walls of the city showed as a black line, beyond which the glow of flames shone luridly on the base of a canopy of smoke. The hubbub, diminished by distance, had become an ugly, throbbing din, like that of some swarm of gigantic insects roused to anger.

"A devils' playground," she whispered, gazing.