Richard Adams - Maia

fell for it. Anyway, they all got undressed, right there in the trees. The boys had a bit of fun with them; and about four thousand meld as well."

"See what I mean, banzi?" asked Occula. "Sometimes it's play. Sometimes it's work. When you're lucky it's both. Have fun and make a ton."

"But what happened in the end?" asked Maia.

"What d'you think? The soldiers came, of course. They set a trap for us, and I fell right into it. I thought the fellow didn't look much like a merchant. Still, I got started and then before I knew what was happening the soldiers were into the lads. They killed four or five then and there, and Latto and two others they hung upside-down by the road. They'd have killed me, too, but the tryzatt said I was too pretty and he'd take and sell me in Dari. And so he did- once he'd finished with me himself."

"How d'you come to be here, then?" asked Occula.

"Why, that tryzatt sold me to General Han-Glat," said Meris. "He happened to be in Dari, you see, working on the new fortress. Ever seen it? No? Oh, it's unbelievable! He used to take me along with him and baste me on the battlements when he'd finished in the evenings. That was the best time I ever had, while I was with Han-Glat. He'd got two other girls, but he liked me best."

"How did you come to leave him?" asked Maia.

"Well, once when he was back in Bekla, you see, reporting to Kembri, he saw a girl of Sencho's he fancied, so he offered Sencho his pick of the three of us. Sencho fancied me, worse luck, and we were exchanged."

"What's wrong with this, then?" asked Occula. "Or is it jus' that you've lost Yunsaymis?"

"What's wrong?" answered Meris. "Cran and Airtha! You never get a man, that's what's wrong."

"But you say Yunsaymis got the marjil?"

"Yunsaymis was the same as me-she wanted a man. Sencho doesn't baste, you see-or very seldom. He's so fat he can hardly walk. You have to lie there and do what he wants-drives you half-crazy and then you don't get anything yourself. But when he goes to a party or a banquet, he always takes one or two girls with him. Only you're not supposed to have anything to do with another guest, of course, unless your master offers you. Sencho was very jealous of Yunsaymis-men were always after her, you see. Well, at this party he'd eaten till he couldn't

move and she had to sit there and watch the whole room basting, she said. So in the end she told him she needed five minutes' fresh air, and she went outside and got laid by one of the house-slaves; and he had the marjil all right. He didn't have the whipping, though: Yunsaymis had that all to herself."

At this moment Terebinthia came silently into the room, her bare feet noiseless on the red-and-blue tiled floor. Slowly waving a great semi-circle of white plumes before her face, she looked round at the girls one by one.

"What did U-Lalloc say your name was?" she murmured at length, looking at Occula.

"Occula, saiyett."

"And yours?"

"Maia, saiyett."

"Well, Occula, you're lucky. The High Counselor wishes to play with his new toy. After what we saw this morning I'm sure you'll be able to please him."

"Am I to go to him now, saiyett?"

"I'll take you," said Terebinthia. "No, you needn't get dressed: you'll do very well as you are."

Upon the city the heat lay like a thick, soft filling between one building and the next. In the half-deserted Caravan Market the porters sat idle on their haunches. The very dogs lay panting along the shady flanks of the fly-buzzing, tinder-dry laystalls. The level of the Barb had dropped six feet and more, and the cracked mud looked like a huge, meshed net spread to dry by the waterside. The leaves hung limp and motionless and not a bird was singing in the gardens beside the northern bank.

The highest room in the Barons' Palace, which overlooked the Barb, caught, as the sun sank, the faintest of breezes-barely enough to stir the muslin screens fixed across the window embrasures. The door had been left open and below, at the foot of the spiral stair, one of Kembri-B'sai's personal bodyguard stood posted to ensure that no chance servant or other passer-by should come within earshot.

Durakkon, High Baron of Bekla, having filled his cup

from a porous, moisture-beaded wine-jar standing behind the open door, carried it across to the window and, drinking, stood looking out towards the brown, motionless water three hundred yards away at the foot of the Leopard Hill. Kembri was seated at the table. Sencho lay sweating on a couch, fanned by a deaf-mute slave whose eyes never wandered from the floor.

"What it comes to is this," said Durakkon at length. "We can tell Karnat as often as we like that Suba's his and that the Leopards have never been at war with him: but as long as the Urtans are continually sending raiding-par-ties over the Valderra to cut up his men, he can call us liars. Suppose he were to make that a pretext to cross the Valderra himself and try for Dari, what's to stop him?"

"That's what the fortress was built for," said Kembri. "It's impregnable, and Karnat knows that as well as we do. Anyway, the rains are coming any day now, so even Karnat won't be able to move for at least two months."

"I know that," answered Durakkon. "I was thinking of next spring; but I suppose it'll have to wait." He turned, facing into the room as the faint clangor of the clocks' gongs came up from the lower city. "There are more urgent matters. According to Sencho, we've got difficulties that won't keep through the rains."

Sencho began to speak of the latest reports from his spies in Tonilda. Even after nearly seven years of Leopard rule, several parts of that province had by no means lost their sense of allegiance to the fallen house of Senda-na-Say. The former High Baron's estates had, of course, been sequestered by the Leopards, and Enka-Mordet, Senda-na-Say's nephew, now farming an estate in northern Chal-con, south-east of Thettit, was kept under constant surveillance. Though he had, to all outward appearances, always taken care to avoid becoming a focus for local disaffection, he had recently gone so far as to protest on behalf of his tenants against the increasing incidence of kidnapping and slaving raids in the neighborhood. Similar protests had come in from other parts of Tonilda. Sencho was apprehensive of collusion and the possibility of a concerted insurrection.

"But if we arrest half-a-dozen landowners," said Kembri, "that may only lead to worse trouble. It's only smoldering now. Why not tell the dealers to go easy on Tonilda for a year or two?"

Sencho, motioning impatiently to the slave to place fresh cushions under his belly, pointed out that the problem would be solved when the new farms began to supply the market, thereby enabling the provincial quotas to be diminished. This, however, could not take place for another few years, since as yet the children born on the farms were not old enough to be sold.

"There are too many slaves, that's the truth of it," said Durakkon shortly. "There never used to be these armies of slaves in rich households, eating their heads off, most of them doing far too little, retained for nothing but show-"

"Turning heldro, are you?" asked Kembri, smiling up at him, chin on hands. (Heldril, meaning "old-fashioned people," was a colloquial term for those in the provinces- particularly nobility-not in agreement with the Leopard regime.)

"I'm well aware there's money in the slave-trade," said Durakkon. "It's made fortunes and Bekla's profited by it; but you can't deny that in some ways it's turned the empire into a marsh where there used to be firm ground. The whole place is becoming lawless and dangerous. Every lonely stretch of road's infested with gangs of escaped slaves preying on travelers, terrifying villagers, even fighting each other-"