In the instant that Maia recognized her the jekzha had passed by. The major-domo having succeeded at last in clearing a way, the boys quickened their pace and entered the side-street opposite.
Maia, frantically pushing and thrusting, burst out of the crowd, tripped, fell, got up again and ran after them shouting, "Occula! Occula!"
People were closing in behind the jekzha, blocking her way. Still shouting, she shoved and pulled them aside, so that several cried out angrily. She only ran on all the harder, calling and stumbling but gradually catching up. Another uniformed attendant, bringing up the rear, turned and stared at her as she came dashing towards him.
"Occula! Occula!"
"Get back, woman!" he cried. "What do you think you're doing? Here!" he called to one of the others in front. "This mad woman! Come and--" He stopped her, striking an ill-aimed blow which glanced off her shoulder. She bit his hand. "Occula! Occula!"
They had her by the arms now, two of them. She was struggling. Then, all of a sudden, they were knocked aside by a swinging cuff apiece.
"You bastin' idiots, doan' you know who it is? Let her alone, damn you! Get over there and wait till I call you!"
The next moment she and Occula were clasped in each other's arms. There was a fragrance of kepris and beneath that the old smell, as of clean coal. The gold-embroidered robe scratched her face, but she hardly felt it.
"Banzi! Oh, banzi, banzi, I doan' believe it!"
They looked at each other with tears.streaming down their cheeks. People were crowding round, chattering like starlings, the liveried servants doing their best to hold them back.
"I thought you were in Terekenalt! They said you'd married your officer fellow and gone to live in Terekenalt!"
"No, it's Katria."
"Oh, Katria, is it? Hell, look at all these bastards! We can' talk here. Banzi, are you busy? Were you goin' somewhere?"
"Oh, Occula, how can you ask? No, of course I'm not!"
"Well, get in the damn' jekzha, then. Quick, too, before this bunch of bumpkins trample us both to buggery! Florio!" she shouted to the major-domo. "You'd better try another street or somethin'! The Serrelinda and I want to get back as quick as we can."
"Where are we going?" asked Maia as she climbed in.
" 'The Green Parrot,' " said Occula. "Do you know it?"
It was the most luxurious and expensive hostelry in Keril. The idea of her staying there had not even occurred either to Zenka or herself.
"Well, sort of," she said, "but actually I haven't been to Keril all that often. It's quite a long way up north, see, where Zenka and me live."
"What are you doin' here now?"
Maia explained. "And you?"
"I'm with Shend-Lador. Remember him? He's on a dip-lomatic mission for Santil. What a bit of luck runnin' into you! We're only stayin' here tonight--off to Terekenalt tomorrow. Shenda's goin' to talk to the new king, you see."
"What about?"
"Oh, banzi, doan' be a fathead! How the hell should I know what about? Some sort of trade agreement--frontiers--politics--that sort of bollocks."
"You always used to be political enough."
"I wasn'; I was the vengeance of the gods, for my own personal reasons. That's different; and anyway it's all over. I'm the bouncy girl; remember? Thousand meld a bounce! But I'm well beyond even that now. I'm the black Beklan knockout, dear. Shend-Lador's mistress, richer than forty sheamas on golden beds."
"Oh, Oceula, I'm so glad! You always said you would be."
"Shenda's talkin' to the High Baron of Katria in private this evenin'," said Occula. "So you can come and have supper with me, can't you? You say no and I'll have you knifed and thrown down a well, banzi; I swear I will."
"My little boy--" she was beginning.
"Yes, where have you left him?"
"We're at 'The Keg and Kynat.' My Suban girl's looking after him."
"I'll send Florro with the jekzha to bring them both round to the 'Parrot.' Then he can suck your deldas all the evenin' if he likes, same as old Piggy used to. What's his name?"
"Zen-Otal: they all call him Anda-Serrelinda."
"Of course. Poor old Bayub-Otal's dead, though, isn't he?"
"Yes, nearly two years ago now. He died saving my life, Occula! I'll tell you all about it over supper. Oh, Cran, I'm so happy to see you! Who'd ever have expected it?"
"Well, here we are," said the black girl, as they drew up in front of "The Green Parrot."
"Kantza-Merada, what a dump! Best you can hope for here, I s'pose. Still, at least we've got a set of private rooms; and you'll get a damn' good supper, banzi, I can promise you that; and a nice drop of Yeldashay. We brought some along with us, just to be on the safe side."
104: AN ACCOUNT SETTLED
Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that Occula had put on weight, thought Maia, herself feeling rather like Sencho as she leaned back against the cushions. During the past two years she had forgotten about suppers like this. The Yeldashay had gone to her head, too, for she was no longer used to it. She felt splendid. They had eaten and drunk and chattered their heads off. At length Occula had dismissed the servants and Maia had recounted all her adventures from the night when her friend had come to her house in Bekla to warn her to get out of the city.
Zen-Otal was fast asleep on another pile of cushions in the corner of the room. Occula had admired him--her unparalleled boy--with polite praise, but was plainly not all that much enraptured. However, Maia had not really expected that she would be. She realized, now, that motherhood was one of the gods' great tidings to which Occula was simply deaf, and likely to remain so; just as, she remembered, good old Brero, who would never have dreamed of causing her a moment's vexation, had once remarked, "I can tell you all about music, saiyett, in one word: no good." There was no earthly point in letting things like this annoy you: you might as well expect a cat to eat hay. Yet she could remember the time when for her Occula had possessed the wisdom and infallibility of a demi-god-dess. What a shame, she thought, that while Occula had been able to teach her so much, she herself would never be able to communicate to her the first thing about motherhood! She wasn't fool enough to start trying, either. And Occula, she felt sure, must even now be entertaining feelings not unlike her own--what a pity to see her banzi, the one-time Serrelinda, fallen a victim, like all the rest, to the absurd slavery of marriage and maternity!
"I didn' tell you, banzi, did I," said Occula, refilling her goblet and putting her feet up on the supper-table, "that I've got Ogma in my household--have had for over a year? I know she'd want to be remembered to you. I'll give her your love when I get back, shall I?"
"Oh, yes, do! Poor old Ogma--clump! clump! Well, I'll bet she's as happy with you as it's possible for her to be anywhere."
"Of course, I've got more sense than to do what you did, banzi--put her in charge of the place. Nearly cost you your life, didn't it?"
"I suppose you've got some marvelous, charming saiyett, have you?" Maia felt much too replete and happy to take offense.
"Well, yes, I have; but Zuno's the one actually in charge. He'd never dream of leaving me. Well, you never know, of course, but I shouldn' think he would."
"Then Fornis--Fornis didn't take him with her?"
Occula looked up quickly. "Where d'you mean--where to?"
"Wherever she's gone."
For several seconds Occula made no reply. Then, putting her feet down again, she said very quietly and directly, "Banzi, you'd better tell me--how much do you know about--about where Fornis went?"
Maia frowned at her, puzzled. "Well, nothing, I reckon. We're a bit out of the way here, see. Only old Nasada, that's my doctor from Suba--"