dead in his tracks, stared at her a moment and then cried out "Lespa's stars!" Behind her, Maia could hear him jabbering excitedly to four or five others, and soon (as there would not have been, she felt, in Karnat's camp, even had her likeness been known there) a rag-tag crowd was following at their heels and men were converging from every side. Again and again came murmurs of "Nokomis!" "Nokomis!" They seemed less excited than wonder-struck- almost afraid. No one spoke directly to her or tried to question her. Becoming nervous herself of the unceasing staring, whispering and pointing, she took first Nasada's arm and then, as he turned back to her and offered it, Bayub-Otal's.
"Do they really think I'm Nokomis?" she whispered.
"They're puzzled," replied Bayub-Otal. "They don't know what to think. They can't make it out as yet, but they know you must be a sign from the gods, and that's all that matters. Tomorrow I want to present you a little more formally to the officers."
"How will they take it, d'you reckon?"
"Why, as we all do, of course," he answered. "For the best omen we could possibly have had. And when Suba's free, we'll-"
But now more soldiers were crowding round, and he broke off to speak to them. The continual, muttering excitement, together with the acrid smoke and muddy squalor of the camp, had begun to exhaust and repel her. She did not resume their conversation, and was glad when, soon after, the king called for a boat to take them back to the Star Court.
Here several people, some officers, others older men- contractors and petitioners-were waiting to speak to Kar-nat; but after listening to the first for no more than a few minutes, he broke off to ask Bayub-Otal to arrange for supper to be served within the hour. This seemed to surprise the Subans-as indeed it did Maia, since from what little she had seen of this country, the customary time for supper was either sunset or soon after, and to that it still wanted more than two hours. However, no one was going to disagree with the king, whose fine presence and gracious manners gave him a natural authority accepted by everyone; and Maia had hardly had time to wash the mud from her feet and rinse her eyes and mouth (which felt gritty) before Zen-Kurel was outside the door of the ladies' quar-
ters, presenting his majesty's compliments and hoping that the young saiyett would do the king the honor of sitting near him at supper. It was this that had first made her begin to wonder what his personal feelings might be, but by the time the fruit and rather insipid sweetmeats had been served, she had decided that his warmth stemmed from nothing more than diplomacy. She was the luck of Suba and he was treating her accordingly.
The same, however, could certainly not be said of the young staff officer, Zen-Kurel. He was plainly fascinated by her. Throughout supper he had talked to her warmly and freely in his excellent Beklan, partly about his military service and close connection with the king and partly about her night crossing of the Valderra, which he obviously thought showed great courage on her part. If that was what he chose to think, Maia had no wish to disillusion him. She told him nothing of what had really happened and, as soon as she could, led him on to tell her something of himself. His mother, now dead, had been a Beklan girl (a shearna, she somehow suspected) who had married a Ka-trian baron, Zen-Bharsh-Kraill. They had apparently met in Dari-Paltesh, though he did not say how. He himself had never lived in Bekla, though as a child he had spent several years in Dari. "Of course, that was long before the king occupied Suba." His father was getting on now. One day he would have to go home and take over the running of the family estate in northern Katria. "But not too soon, I hope," he said. "Soldiering-it's a wonderful life, especially now I'm actually with the king. I don't want to stay at home and breed goats-not yet. Or even get married," he added, smiling.
"No, that's dull," said Maia. "Breeding goats, I mean," she added.
Zen-Kurel laughed. "I'm sure you had something better to do in Bekla than breed goats, hadn't you?"
"Yes, I was a dancer. But I've
He did not, and listened attentively as she described it and went on to speak of Fordil's extraordinary skill as an accompanist.
"But if you danced in the Palace of the Barons at Bekla, you must be a very good dancer?"
"Well, I don't know. It was just that there was this party,
see, and I happened to be there. I was surprised how much they seemed to like it. But then if you're attending on the king,
"Well, not really. It's just that I happen to speak Beklan, you see-"
