Maia полностью

"Oh. Well-well, at that rate, my lord, I think I'd rather eat first."

"Just as you like." He smiled again. "Just as you like, Maia. You're not a slave anymore, now."

He called from the window and after a little the old woman clambered up into the room, carrying a flask and a clay bowl. These she put down, smiled toothlessly at Maia, mumbled a few words to Bayub-Otal and disappeared again.

"She's gone to get you some bread and fish. People eat a lot of fish here; there's not much else, you see. This will be fish soup, I expect-akrow, they call it." He filled the bowl from the flask. "Yes, it is. It's good, too. I had some myself earlier on."

She took the bowl from him. The liquid was pale yellow, not much thicker than water and surfaced with tiny, iridescent circles like a clear gravy. White fragments of fish were floating in it. Seeing her hesitate, he shook his head.

"You just gulp it down. No spoons here. Pick out the big bits with your fingers, but watch for bones."

She tilted the bowl to her lips. The soup was hot enough, and its taste not unpleasant. It left a coating of grease on her lips and the roof of her mouth.

The old woman returned with wine, black bread and two crisp-skinned, baked fish on a plate.

"Would you like me to break these up for you?" he asked. "It can be awkward till you've got the knack." He laughed. "I'm rather good at it; or I used to be."

He was plainly in good spirits. She watched as he slit each fish along one side with his knife, took out tail, backbone and head in one piece and threw it out the window.

"And that, too, you eat with your fingers," he said, handing the fish to her. "Makes it taste much better, I assure you."

For the life of her she could not bring herself to take it in good part. The room seemed stifling and her headache, if anything, worse.

"Are the people all so poor?"

"Oh, no, these people aren't poor: they just haven't got any money."

She ate the bread and fish, sucked her fingers and wiped them on the coverlet, which from the look of it was not going to take any harm from a little thing like that. When she had eaten a few figs and swallowed down some of the rough wine, her headache grew duller and she began to feel drowsy again.

He watched her, sitting on his stool. "Poor Maia! How many days is it now since we left Bekla?"

She knew that. "This is the sixth day, my lord." "Don't call me that anymore. Call me Anda-Nokomis, like everybody else. Six days-so it is. I don't wonder you're tired out. I'm sure there are very few girls who could have done it at all. You'll need at least another day's rest: but don't worry, Maia-I'll leave you in good hands, I promise."

She stared at him, frightened. "Leave me?" He got up and once more stood looking out the window. After a few moments he replied rather hesitantly, "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you see, it's become very urgent. I've got to get down to Melvda-Rain as soon as I possibly can, and so has Lenkrit. He tells me his son will be there already, with the men from upper Suba. I've no idea what Karnat's planning to do. If he was one of our own people it would be different, but with allies there's always the risk of misunderstanding and ill-feeling. He's got to be able to trust us; he's got to believe that we mean what we say."

Maia could make little of this, except that he meant to go away and leave her behind. Her silent incomprehension seemed to recall to him that he was speaking to her in particular. He came back across the room and sat beside her on the floor.

"I'll explain," he said. "King Karnat of Terekenalt has his army in camp about thirty or forty miles south of here, at a place called Melvda-Rain. We-that's to say the Su-bans-are joining him as allies, which means that Lenkrit and I, as Suban leaders, need to get down there at once. We're leaving now-before dark. We're going by water- all traveling's by water in Suba. We'll get there about midday tomorrow. Once we get clear of these eastern marshes it's more or less straight all the way, down the Nordesh. You'll be following as soon as possible-" "Me, my lord-I mean Anda-Nokomis: why me?" "Oh-well-" He hesitated. "I won't explain now: but I'll see to it that you're told before you get to Melvda." "If I've got to go, Anda-Nokomis, can't I go with you?" "You're not fit to travel tonight, Maia, that's certain. You need more rest and sleep. I've suggested you start tomorrow, in the afternoon. Lenkrit's leaving Tescon, so

that you'll be able to travel with someone who's not entirely a stranger; and I've found a sensible, steady girl to go with you."

"No one else? Just those two?"

He was silent, thinking. "Yes, of course there ought to be an older man as well. I don't know who'd-" Suddenly he looked up, smiling. "Well, of course! U-Nasada's going to Melvda-he can easily wait and go with you! There couldn't be anyone better."

"U-Nasada?"