Randronoth, however, plainly wanted none of this. It was not for show or notoriety but for that incomparable body (mounted by Sednil for nothing in a dusty attic of the temple) that he had bid nine thousand meld. As a slave handed him his cloak he raised his hand unsmilingly to those around him, walked over to where Maia was still standing beside Elvair-ka-Virrion on the table and, climbing up beside them, put the cloak round Maia's shoulders. Having stooped and picked up the cherry-colored robe, he was about to help her down when Elvair-ka-Virrion stayed him.

"The money, my lord? A mere detail, of course, but we need to know-"

"She shall have every last meld in coin by dawn tomorrow," answered Randronoth. "Where would you like it brought, saiyett?"

"To my house, please," replied Maia.

Now that the horrible prospect of Ged-la-Dan had been lifted from her, she felt light as a summer cloud. She'd done it! Fornis was defeated, Tharrin was saved! All that remained was to spend the night with Randronoth. Weary though she now felt, his craving, she knew, was such that little more than acquiescence would suffice. Smiling in her relief, she kissed him warmly and lingeringly, cheek and lip. "Let's go there now-now-shall we?" And then, with a sudden rush of spontaneous ardor, "Oh, thank you, my lord, for-for winning! I'm that glad as 'twas you!"

Yet during the hours that followed-those hours during which Randronoth seemed almost demented, so that even after his desire had spent itself once, twice and again he could not let be, but must still be caressing and touching her with hands, lips, tongue; embracing and fondling as though the gratification of his lust had been a mere pre-

liminary to the more serious business of satisfying some even deeper need-she could not help wondering, as it would never have occurred to her to wonder last year in Sencho's house, what it was that he supposed he had bought. Her feelings were in no way engaged: her heart was far away; she was indulging him like a child, and this not because she had any particular wish to hold back or give him short weight, but because that was all she had it in her to do. Such as she had to give she was giving him- and little enough to her it seemed. Yet of this shortcoming-a mantled sun, a clouded sky-he was plainly unaware. He knew no better. The strings were not in tune, but this he could not perceive. Once, dropping off to sleep, she dreamed vividly that Zen-Kurel had come into the room and was standing silently beside their bed. She started up with an anguished cry, but Randronoth only laughed, took her by the shoulders and fell to kissing her breasts. Yet hadn't her distress been obvious? she thought, once more acquiescing. Well, if it had not, perhaps that was all for the best.

Throughout the whole night, though he was unfailingly courteous and also showed himself considerate and adept enough, she was roused no more than once, and that at the outset; and this impersonal, animal want once met, fell back upon the kind of pretense that Occula had taught her to employ with the High Counselor. It was not difficult: she remained sincerely amiable and compliant, for the thought of Tharrin saved burned like a bright lamp in her heart, filling it full of tolerance-pity, even-for this poor, besotted man, who could see yet not reach her, his heart like a moth on a lighted window-pane.

<p>64: THE MORROW MORN</p>

Maia, who had slept again for an hour, woke soon after first light to see Randronoth, at her dressing-table, wetting his fingers to quench the smoking lamp-wick he had just blown out. As soon as she spoke he crossed the room, knelt at the foot of the bed, took one of her feet between his hands and began kissing it. She stroked his cheek with the other. "You're up early."

"I'm happy," he answered.

How early, she was wondering, could she practicably expect to gain access to Fornis to ask for Tharrin's order of release? Well, she would simply go to the house as soon as she could, and if that was too early, she'd sit and wait.

He looked up at her, smiling, "I can't do any more- more's the pity. Once I could have."

"Forty-one's no age, Randro." Then, fearing that he might suppose that she had known men of his age more virile, she added, "You've shown me that already. It's silly to try and force yourself, after we've had such a nice time." She patted the still-warm place beside her. "Come back and lie down. There's something I want to ask you; something that's very important to a great friend of mine."

"Which friend?"

"Nennaunir. You knew her very well at one time, didn't you? You saw her yesterday and talked about me?"

"Oh, she told you, did she?" For the first time he seemed displeased. "You've only to tell a girl something, and it goes buzzing about the city like a bluebottle."

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