"That's still U-Makron, I hope?" asked Nasada and, as the lad nodded, "It must be-oh, two years, I suppose, since I was last at Lukrait."
"And two months and three days," replied the lad, smiling. "You don't remember me, then, U-Nasada?"
The old man frowned, thrust forward his head and stared piercingly at him, making a comical act of it. Then he smiled and put a hand on the lad's shoulder.
"Yes, I do-you're Bread or Crumb or something, aren't you?"
"Kram." He looked delighted.
"That's it; Kram. I scratched your arm for you, didn't I? But I had to leave before I knew what came of it. Did it work?"
"Yes, it did. For about three days after you'd gone I felt terrible. Everyone said you'd poisoned me-"
"I had."
"My mother was ready to kill you. Then I got well and I've never had a day's fever since."
Nasada nodded. "I thought it would probably suit you. It doesn't suit everybody."
"You mean I'll never have the fever again?"
"Well, that I can't promise," said Nasada. "But if I scratch you again in about another three years, you ought to be safe for a good long time."
Following Kram's boat in the failing light, they now began another bumping, winding course through the swampland.
"Have you seen Anda-Nokomis, then?" asked Tescon. "Was it he who told you we were coming?"
"He and U-Lenkrit arrived late last night," replied Kram. "Too late to try to get through here, I'd have thought, but they managed it. U-Makron saw them, but they left again soon after dawn this morning." After a pause while they negotiated a wide, reedy mud-bank, he added,
coming down to Melvda with you tomorrow; and one or two more as well."
"Aren't you too young?" asked Nasada.
"No one's too young to strike a blow for Suba, U-Na-sada," said the second youth. "Besides, Anda-Nokomis told U-Makron that everyone-every single man-who goes will get his reward." He laughed. "So we're not going to miss ours!"
Emerging at length from among the trees, they saw ahead of them the outskirts of a village which to Maia looked much like the one they had left that morning. By the waterside were moored boats, nets spread to, dry, a rickety-looking watch-tower and two fish-breeding ponds closed off by means of wicker hatches. A path led up through trees to the village itself, about two hundred yards away on slightly higher ground.
Nasada told Kram to take the girls straight to their sleeping-quarters while he went to pay his respects to Makron. The lad led them up the path to the village, which Maia could now see was not only larger than the other but also somewhat more prosperous-looking-though that wasn't saying much, she thought. Still, at least there seemed to be fewer sores and rags and more cheerful children. One little girl, aged about nine, ran up to them of her own accord and asked smilingly, "Who are you?" Maia smiled back, but thought it best to leave Luma to answer her in their own dialect.
Their hut, too, was a pleasant change for the better. It was quite spacious, and had been fumigated by burning some sort of herb which had left a clean, sharp smell. The ladder was new and firm, and the floor had been covered with fresh rushes. As they entered, an elderly woman sitting by the window stood up, put a quick question to Kram and, having learned that they were whom she had thought, came forward to greet them. She seemed to have put on her best clothes for the occasion, being dressed not in the usual sheath-like smock, but in a faded, blue, woolen dress a little too large, which could only have come from somewhere beyond Suba. Her gracious, unhurried manner suggested that she was-or felt herself to be-a lady of some standing. Maia hoped she would not converse for long, since all she herself wanted was to wash, eat and sleep.
"My dear," said the old lady, taking her hands, "Anda-Nokomis told us-we were most pleased-that you-"
Suddenly she stopped, catching her breath. "Oh!" Still holding Maia's hands, she stared at her intently, with an air of amazement. "Anda-Nokomis told us, but I never imagined-of course, it's more than sixteen years now-"
"Excuse me, saiyett," said Tescon, who had followed them into the hut, "but U-Nasada asked me to explain to you that Maia hasn't been told anything about this yet. He's going to have a talk with her later this evening."
"Oh, I see." The lady, who in any case had recovered herself almost at once, took this smoothly in her stride. Still gazing at Maia, however, with a kind of mannerly-controlled wonder, she went on, "We're very glad you'll be staying with us tonight. You too, my dear," she added politely to Luma, who put her palm to her forehead but made no reply. "One of my girls will bring you some hot water" (I can't believe it! thought Maia), "and then she'll get your supper. Please don't hesitate to ask for anything else you want. My name's Penyanis, by the way," she added smilingly. "I'm U-Makron's wife. I hope you're not too tired after your journey?"
