Although her Suban accent would have marked her out instantly in Bekla, Maia could nevertheless understand her well enough-better than she could understand Luma- and guessed that in years gone by she must have spent some time in one of the cities of the empire. She herself, of course, had virtually no experience of talking to ladies of consequence, but for the few minutes until the hot water arrived she did her best and felt she had come out of it at least passably; perhaps because the old lady seemed almost bemused merely by looking at her, and on that account hardly concerned to pay any very close attention to anything she actually said. Soon she took her leave, hoping they would be comfortable and once more begging Maia to ask for anything she lacked.
An hour later Maia was feeling, if not altogether at ease, at least less uncomfortable than at any time since leaving Bekla. Her shin seemed almost to have stopped hurting. She had washed from head to foot with soap, combed her hair and cleaned her teeth with a frayed stick. The supper, though nothing more than fish, eggs, and fruit, had been good and Penyanis's maid had served it well. The wine, too, had been a delightful surprise, for it was Yeldashay- even Sencho might have appreciated it-and there was
plenty of it. Having thanked and dismissed the maid, she refilled her cup and stood at the window looking out into the twilight, where supper fires were burning behind the huts and lamps shone from windows. In the cool, mud-smelling mist beyond, the frogs were rarking far and near, and a belated heron flew slowly over, with back-bent neck and trailing legs. "Go on-fly to Serrelind," she said aloud. "Tell Kelsi her sister's in a mess and needs her." And oh! wouldn't she just about be glad, she thought, to see Kelsi come walking up through the village now, in her sacking smock and bare feet?
Whom she actually saw a moment later was Nasada, deep in conversation with an even older man who was walking beside him, leaning on a stick. At once she waved, called out "U-Nasada!" and then, mischievously, "Sha-greh?"
He looked up and raised his hand. "We're coming to see you."
"Luma, help U-Nasada and the other gentleman up the ladder."
"Shagreh."
A minute later they were in the room and Luma, at a few murmured words from Nasada, had left it. Nasada smiled at Maia, nodding approvingly.
"Well, you don't look as if you'd come twenty miles down the Nordesh. You look as if you'd just come from your upper city in a litter."
She curtseyed, tossing back her combed hair.
" Tisn't true, U-Nasada, and I reckon you know that; but it's nice to have anyone say it, specially you."
Nasada turned to his companion. "Were you ever in the upper city, Makron? It must be a dangerous place, don't you think, with girls like this about?"
"I've never been to Bekla, Nasada," answered the old man. "But now I've seen
"Well, I suppose we shouldn't go on talking about her like this, us two old storks," said Nasada. "I'd better introduce you. This is U-Makron, elder of Lukrait-Maia of Serrelind."
Maia curtseyed again and raised a palm to her forehead. "Thank you very much for the beautiful wine, U-Makron."
"Oh,, you liked it?" he said. "That's good. King Karnat sent it to me a year or two back, but we're not really expert in such things here, you know. I'm glad to have been able
to give it to someone who appreciates it. Still, I dare say you've been used to better in Bekla?"
She shook her head and smiled. "None better, sir."
There were several stools in the room. She motioned to them to sit down, rinsed two cups and poured more of the wine. The elder inquired about her escape from Bekla and the dangerous Valderra crossing, and went on to deplore the discomfort of Suba to anyone not used to its mists and marshes. To all of this she replied as she hoped he would wish.
"And-er-you grew up in Tonilda?" he asked at length. "On Lake Serrelind? That's near Thettit, isn't it? You've really lived there all your life?"
"Almost all sixteen years of it, U-Makron!" she smiled.
"Something over sixteen years since you were born?" said he, sipping his wine with a thoughtful air. "Well, I myself never saw Nokomis, you see, though my wife did." He paused. "She tells me it's more than strange. I'm glad to have had this chance of seeing
"Good-night, U-Makron." (And I wonder what he'd call me if he knew how I lived in Bekla?)
As Makron went down the ladder Nasada picked up one of the lamps and put it down by Maia's bed.
"You've had a long day: why don't you lie down? You'll be more comfortable."
She did so. He remained standing, sipping his Yeldashay and looking down at her.
"You'd like a man in that bed, wouldn't you?"
