Maia полностью

"Speak?" answered Durakkon. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, someone's going to have to tell Fornis that a third reign as Sacred Queen is out of the question. And there's no one who can perform that task with authority except the High Baron of Bekla."

There was a long pause. At length, "She has no legal power, sir," ventured Elvair-ka-Virrion, in a tone which was meant to be encouraging yet sounded anything but.

"No; she has her own power, though," answered Durakkon dolefully. Then, recovering his dignity as though with an effort, he said, "Well, Lord General, I'll think it over, and let you know how and when I mean to go about it. You may both leave me now."

The Lord General and his son bowed and descended the steps. Durakkon, turning away from them, remained alone, gazing out from the walls at Lespa's stars now twinkling more brightly above the darkening plain.

Two hours before this, Maia had set about her task of taking Occula's message to the old woman in the sweetshop.

In the event it proved easier than she had dared to hope. Nonetheless, she took a little while to find the shop; and

the jekzha-man (who did not know who she was) had to be placated with extra money for all his stumbling up and down. Finally she made him go as far as Eud-Ecachlon's old lodgings, near the Tower of the Orphans-she could remember that all right, recalling the afternoon when she had acquitted herself so well-and then retrace his steps as though returning to the upper city.

Ah yes! and there, sure enough, was the sweet-shop, on the opposite side of the street, just before it came out into the Sheldad. Today, in fine summer weather, it had a different look, as revisited places often do; yet there was no doubt about it. Maia stopped the jekzha, crossed the street and went in.

The old woman was sitting behind her scales, and her lad could be heard clumping about somewhere in the back. A big, portly man, who looked like an upper servant, was making a great to-do over buying all manner of sweet-meats-no doubt for some supper-party of his master's- and it was plain that the old woman meant to take her time over obliging so good a customer. Maia waited. After a minute or two the lad appeared and came up to her, but she only shook her head, pointing and murmuring something about "your mother."

At last the self-important butler was done and strutted out, pocketing his list and giving an address in the upper city to which the stuff was to be delivered that day without fail. Maia went up to the old woman while she was still bowing and smiling behind him in the doorway.

"Good evening, mother," she said in a low voice, "and may Colonna and Bakris bless you. Last time we met, you told me I shouldn't never have come, so I'll be a bit quicker today. Occula-the black girl who was arrested when the High Counselor was killed-she's still alive and sends you greetings. She says you're to get out now, at once, without stopping for anything."

"I've been expecting it," replied the old woman. "Did she say where?"

Maia, shaking her head, produced a ten-meld piece. "How about Urtah? Now sell me some sweets-anything you like-for the jekzha-man to see when I come out, and I'U be gone."

Two minutes later she was back in her jekzha, out in the Sheldad and turning left towards the Caravan Market. After a few moments, however, she realized that they were

not making any progress. Something ahead had halted the traffic and everybody seemed to be being pressed back against the shop-fronts on either side of the street. Her jekzha-man, jostled by four or five cursing porters, staggered a moment against another, righted himself, slewed round on the axis of one wheel and halted, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Can't you go on?" she said impatiently. "I want to get home."

"Got to wait a bit, saiyett, I'm afraid. Here's the soldiers coming now, see 'em?"

She looked up the highway. Two files of soldiers were approaching, one on either side of the road; but very oddly, for they were side-stepping, facing outwards and pressing the people back against the walls with their spears held sideways. From further up, in the direction of the Caravan Market, there could now be heard a raucous clamor-ugly and malign, it sounded-coming gradually nearer, until one could distinguish individual, strident voices, like nails sticking out of the head of a cudgel.

"Oh, whatever is it?" she asked, frightened. The man did not answer and she rapped sharply on the rail. "What is it? Tell me!"

"Won't be more'n a minute or two, I dare say, saiyett," he answered. "I reckon they're bringing in the prisoners from Tonilda-them heldro spies. I heard tell as they'd be here today."