now-setting moon; lay the empty length of the highway to Dari-Paltesh. Maia's bare feet, used as they had once been to stones and miry lanes, had grown soft during her months in the High Counselor's household. Seeing her shrink, Ba-yub-Otal gave her his arm. Pillan fell in behind them, and as the postern shut to at their backs they set out towards the wooded country west of the Beklan plain.
After following the paved highway for some time they reached its junction with the road running north into Ur-tah. This was not much more than a broad track, its ruts and marshier places mended with stones or felled saplings laid side by side. After some three miles it entered woodland, where trees stood thick about the verge and in places overhung it. The moon had set and in near-darkness Ba-yub-Otal and Pillan went forward warily, with drawn swords. They met no one, however, and within the hour, from an open place, saw first light creeping into the sky on their right.
Soon the track forked and here Bayub-Otal slid off his pack, sat down and turned to Maia with a smile.
"Tired?"
She laughed. "Never in the world, my lord. I can go 's far as you like."
"There wasn't time to offer you food when you came. Would you like some now?"
"Oh, that's kind of you, my lord, but not yet." (The priests had in fact given her a good meal late the previous night.)
"You're probably right." He evidently interpreted her refusal as a prudent wish to put first things first and push on. "We'll both have been missed by now. We'd better not stay on the direct road to Urtah: we'll play safe and lose ourselves."
"What's your plan, then, my lord? Where are we making for?"
"That all depends on the news I get; if I get any. I may or may not go to Kendron-Urtah: but if I do, I shan't take
"Why not, my lord?"
"I'm afraid you must leave the decisions to me." The cold, almost contemptuous note that she knew so well had crept back into his voice.
"But what we have to think about now," he resumed after a few minutes, as they went on down the narrower, divergent track, "is getting into Urtah by back-ways. Once we're actually there-across the Olmen, I mean-we'll be able to take things more easily. We'll be safe then. My father would never give me up to Bekla, and the Leopards couldn't make him."
"How far's that, then, my lord, d'you reckon?"
"Forty miles at least; it could be fifty. But with luck we ought to reach the Olmen the day after tomorrow. Can you do fifteen miles a day for three days?"
"I reckon so, my lord; but I'd go a lot easier if only I had some sandals and if I could get rid of these filthy dirty clothes."
"I think you may be able to, tonight."
Once again she felt what a strange, incomprehensible man he was. He had shown himself ready to risk his life to save-as he supposed-that of one of the most desirable slave-girls in Bekla. Now he was speaking matter-of-factly of not taking her with him to his destination. What was she to make of it? And at this rate how could she hope to obtain any information of value to the Lord General?
Dawn was now breaking along the eastern skyline in a long, smooth band of ochre, and the woodland round them was full of bird-song. The dark-red east turned first to crimson and then, as the sun itself appeared, to a dazzling gold too bright to look at. The zenith became clear blue, while before them the northern horizon lay in a purple haze, foretelling a hot, cloudless day.
Some way ahead, at the foot of an open slope, stood a grove of empress trees, covered with their mauve, trumpet-shaped blooms, and suddenly, as she looked down at them, a kynat, the purple-and-gold harbinger of summer, flew out from among the branches, uttering its fluting call. In the distance shone a soft, yellow mist of wattles in bloom, and beside the track were growing clusters of three-pe-talled trillium lilies. Stooping, she picked one and tucked it behind her ear. The return of summer had been a familiar blessing all her life, and now she responded to it almost unthinkingly, one of thousands of living creatures to whom it meant the restoration of energy and confidence. She was
lucky Maia, secure in her youth and beauty. The dread of torture was gone; the filthy prison was gone. Why look for more just now? Something would happen: things would tum out all right, as they had before.
One thing, however, remained mysterious and disconcerting-the bearing of Pillan. Plainly, he still regarded her with disquiet, though why she could not imagine. From time to time, she noticed him staring at her uneasily but then at once glancing away, as though afraid to look and yet unable not to. Since their setting out, he had not once addressed her directly, and seemed to be taking care to remain at a little distance from her. Once-it was shortly after they had turned westward off the Urtah road-when she had asked him for water, he had taken the bottle off his belt without speaking and passed it to Bayub-Otal to give to her.
