Still he said nothing, and she burst out, "I warn you, U-Pokada, I'm going to make a public matter of it. I'm going to see you ruined for this." She snatched up the parchment, which was still lying where he had left it on the table. "Here's a pardon, sealed by the Sacred Queen herself, for a man who was in your charge-"
He was trembling now, the big, fleshy hulk of a man, fear written all over him, even his silver earrings shaking in his head.
"Saiyett-saiyett-"
"Yes?" But he said no more. "Well, what?"
"Saiyett, I tell you-what I'm going to tell you-it-it puts my life in your hands. I tell you, and perhaps you get me hanged upside-down-if I tell you-"
"You mean you
"No, saiyett, no? I didn't murder him, no! I'll tell you the truth, I'll trust my life to you because I believe what everybody says, that you're a kind-hearted, good lady. Once you know the truth, then you're not going to be angry any more, you're not going to ruin me, because you're just and fair-"
She stamped her foot. "Stop this stupid nonsense! Say what you have to say and get on with it!"
Pokada, having shut and locked the door, went over to
the window, which he closed after peering outside. Then he sat down on the bench beside the table.
"Saiyett," he whispered, "do you know a Palteshi woman in the upper city? A woman close to the Sacred Queen?"
"Ashaktis, do you mean? A dark, middle-aged woman, with a Palteshi accent?"
"Sh! Saiyett, sh! We've got to whisper-"
Still angry, but nevertheless affected by his fear, she lowered her voice. "Well? What about Ashaktis, then?"
"Saiyett, it was very early this morning: it was only just light. I was up, with two of my men, preparing for the executions. Only there are things we naves to see to-the priests come-well, I don't need to tell you about that. But then Elindir, the man on the gate, he comes and beckons me to one side, so no one else can hear, and he says there's a woman come; and then he gives me a note with the queen's seal which says I'm to see her at once. But Elindir says she won't come further than the gate."
He stopped, as though expecting Maia to reply. She said nothing and after a few moments he resumed.
"I went to the gate-house and there was the woman all muffled up-her face, too-nothing I could know her by again except her voice, her Palteshi accent. She said no one was to know that she'd gone into the prison. She hid behind a curtain while I called Elindir and told him she'd left. She told me to do that, and then to send him away again on some errand.
"Then she showed me another note from the queen, saying that I was to take her to the prisoner Tharrin in his cell. No one was to see her on the way. So I sent away the two men who were waiting for the priests, and took her to Tharrin myself. He was sleeping, saiyett, and when I woke him he smiled and said 'Is it Maia come?'
"The woman told me to go away and wait up the passage, by the far door. And then after-oh, not very long, saiyett-five minutes, I suppose-she came back up the passage and she said 'Now give me back both those notes.' So then she had both the notes herself, you see, and I took her back to the gate and let her out. And the last thing she said, saiyett, she said 'If the queen gets to hear one word from any living soul about my coming here, you'll hang upside-down, do you understand?'
"And then, not ten minutes later, we found Tharrin dead, just like you saw. Seven years, saiyett, seven years
I've been governor here and not one condemned man has ever been able to kill himself before."
Still Maia said nothing. "Saiyett, I've told you because you said you'd see me ruined. But now you know the truth, you won't want to do that, will you? If the Sacred Queen gets to hear-"
"No, I won't say anything, U-Pokada," replied Maia listlessly. She stood up. "I'll go now. Come to the gate with me, please."
"Saiyett," he said, "there's one thing you can comfort yourself with. At least you saved him from worse: he didn't have to go to the temple. And you and I, We're no worse off, are we, as long as we both say nothing?"
Her jekzha was gone, and rather than wait while another was fetched she put up her veil and walked away, down through the reeking lanes of the Shilth towards the Shel-dad. Whether anyone spoke to her or tried to accost her she had no idea. In the Sheldad she found a jekzha and returned to the upper city.
The knife-blade was strong-too strong to bend or break on bone-and its point was very sharp. When she had told him that she would only need it for an hour, Brero had lent it to her without asking any questions. It was belted on her left side and her cloak hid it completely.
She had put her diamonds in their box and buried it in the garden. She would have liked to give them away-to Occula or even to Nennaunir-but that would have meant explanations and anyway there was no time. Delay was the last thing endurable now.
