She felt drowsy. Her deft fingers recommenced their work, then faltered and paused, lying still as she leant back in the soft, resilient thickness of the piled net and closed her eyes. The breeze, the wavelets lapping on the shore, the leaves of the ash-tree, the flies darting in the bright air--all these were in motion above and around her, so that she herself seemed like a still centre, a sleeping princess, motionless save for the gentle rise and fall of her bosom under the self-mended dress.
She woke with a start, conscious that someone was standing beside her. She half-sprang up, then lay back, laughing with relief as she realized that it was only Tharrin.
"Oh--Tharrin--oh, you give me such a turn! I'd dropped off for a moment. Don't matter, I've done most of it, look. It's done proper, too--won't go again in 'urry."
He lay down beside her, leaning on his elbow and gazing up at her intently. As he still said nothing she felt a touch of nervousness.
"What's up, then, Tharrin? Nothin' wrong, is there?"
At this he smiled. "No, nothing," he answered, laying a hand on her bare forearm. "Nothing at all."
"Well, go on, look at it, then! I've made a good job of it, you c'n see that."
He began picking over the mended places, lifting the net in his two hands and idly testing the knotting between his fingers. She saw that they were trembling slightly and felt still more puzzled.
"You all right? What's matter then?"
Suddenly he flung one entire fold of the net over her from head to foot and, as she struggled beneath the mesh, pushed her back into the piled folds, laughing and pressed his hands down on her shoulders. She laughed, too, for she had often romped with him before; but then quickly shook her head, throwing one hand up to her face.
"Ow! You caught me in the eye, Tharrin--do look out--"
"I've caught a fish! A golden fish! What a beauty!"
"No, honesty Tharrin, it hurts! Look, does it show?" And, still lying under the net, she turned her face towards the light, pulling down her lower eyelid as the water ran down her cheek.
"I'm sorry, Maia fish! Oh, I didn't mean to hurt you! Here, let me kiss it better."
He took her head, wrapped in the net, between his hands and kissed her eyelid through the mesh.
"Want to come out, pretty fish? Ask nicely!"
She pouted. "I'm not bothered. I'll come out when I please!"
"Well, I'm in no hurry either, come to that." And with this he pulled aside the fold, lay down beside her and drew it back over both of them.
"You've caught me too, you know, golden Maia. Look, here's something nice. I brought it specially for you."
Fumbling a moment, he held out to her a lump of something brown and glistening, about half as big as his fist. At the smell, at once sweet and nutty-sharp, she began to salivate once more.
"Go on; try it! You'll like it. Look!" He bit off a piece and lay nibbling, crackling the brittle stuff between his teeth.
Maia copied him. The taste was delicious, filling her mouth and throat, suffusing her with the luxury of its sweetness. With closed eyes she bit, chewed, swallowed and bit again, her smarting eye quite forgotten.
"M'mm! Oh, it's gorgeous, Tharrin! What is it?"
"Nut thrilsa. Nuts baked in honey and butter."
"But these aren't ordinary nuts. Where do they come from? Oh, do give me some more!"
"No, these are serrardoes. The black traders bring them to Ikat from heaven knows where--far away to the south. Want some more?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Come and get it, then!" Very deliberately, and holding her gaze, he put a piece lightly between his front teeth, then took each of her hands in one of his own, fingers interlocked, and held them back against the net.
Slowly, realizing what he meant and why he had done it, Maia raised her head and placed her mouth against his. His arms came gently round her shoulders, clasping her to him, and as she drew the sweetmeat into her mouth his tongue followed it, licking and caressing. She offered no resistance, only breathing hard and trembling.
Releasing her, he smiled into her eyes. "Was that nice, too?"
"I don't--I don't know!"
"And this?" He slid his hand beneath her torn dress, fondling one breast.
"Oh, you shouldn't; don't!" But her hands made no move to pluck his away.
Pressing himself against her from head to foot, lithe and strong, he once more took her hand and drew it downward between his legs.
And now indeed she cried out in earnest, suddenly realizing what before she had only half understood.
Feeling, with a kind of panic, what he had meant her to feel, she thought--like a young soldier for the first time face to face with the enemy--"This isn't a game any more--this is what really happens--and it's happening to me." For long moments she lay tense in his arms; yet she did not struggle.
Suddenly her body felt full and smooth and sufficient-- like a new boat pushed down into the water. It was as though she were standing back, regarding it with satisfaction. It was sound: it floated. Her body, her beautiful body, which could swim miles in the lake--her body would take care of everything. She had only to allow it to do what it had been created for. Sighing, she pressed herself against Tharrin and waited, shuddering as he caressed her.
The moment he entered her, Maia was filled from head to foot with a complete, assenting knowledge that this was what she had been born for. All her previous, childish life seemed to fall away beneath her like broken fragments of shell from the kernel of a cracked nut. Tharrin's weight upon her, Tharrin's thrusting, his arms about her, were like the opening of a pair of great, bronze doors to disclose some awesome and marvelous treasure within. Only, she herself was at one and the same time the doors, the fortress and the treasure. Catching her breath, moaning, struggling not against but with him, as though they had both been hauling on a sail, she clutched him about, crying incoherently, "Oh, don't--don't--"
At this, he held back for a moment.
"Don't what, my darling?"
"Don't stop! Oh, Cran and Airtha, don't stop!"
Laughing with delight, he took her once more in a close embrace and entirely at her word.
When she came to herself she was lying in the net and he was smiling down at her.
"I've landed my fish! It is a beauty! Don't you agree?"
She answered nothing; only panting up at him, a child caught at the end of some hide-and-seek game.
"Are you all right, pretty Maia?"
She nodded. The unshed tears in her blue eyes made them seem even bigger.
"Like some more thrilsa?" He put a piece to her lips: she bit into it with relish.
"You like that?"
"Oh, it's simply lovely! I've never had it before!"
He roared with laughter. "What are you talking about-- thrilsa?"