The man to whom she was conducted was a handsome young priest-no eunuch, but on the contrary possessed of a warm, reassuring manner; so that she found herself liking and (rather to her surprise) trusting him. He began by asking her to tell him, in confidence and without reservation, the entire matter on her mind, but this she felt unable to do.
"There's someone I hope to meet again," she said. "I believe I shall, but I want to know when and how."
"A man or a woman?" he asked, smiling.
"Well-a man."
"Where is he?"
She shrugged. "I wish I knew. Far away."
"So is there no ordinary, day-to-day likelihood of your paths crossing?"
She paused, troubled by the question. Yet there could be only one answer. "No."
"Do you believe that he will seek you out?"
"He would, but it's not in his power. He won't have forgotten me, I know that."
"Saiyett, if the god and I are to help you, you must make the effort to be frank. Do you love this man? Who is he?"
She shook her head. "I can't tell you no more. Here's the money. If you can help me, I shall be grateful: else we'll have to leave it."
He nodded equably, accepting her at her word, and proceeded to the usual astrological questions about her age and the approximate dates of her first menstruation and loss of virginity. This done, he asked her to throw a handful of brightly-colored sticks-red, blue and green- into a basin of sand; then to look at a sheet of gnarled bark and tell him what likenesses she perceived on its
surface. At length he left her, retreating into a little alcove where he stood for several minutes in silence.
"This is all the god vouchsafes," he said at last, returning to where she sat waiting. "It's little enough, but then you have told me so little, saiyett. You will meet this man again if you yourself seek him; and else not. Also the god says, 'Opportunity is all.' "
" 'Opportunity is all'?" she repeated, looking up at him in perplexity.
He bowed. "I wish you well, saiyett. Believe me, I have done my best for you."
Anyone might have said as much, she thought, going over it in her mind while Ogma prepared a coot bath and laid out for her two or three robes from which to choose for the evening. She had been invited to supper by Mil-vushina and, since she had been expressly told that no one ehse would be there, was naturally curious to know what she was to hear-or to be asked.
Anyone might have said as much. Still, that was nothing unusual. After all, doctors frequently advised, "Go to bed until you feel better" and lawyers (or so she had heard) often said, "You have a weak case and might as well not proceed"; and took their fees for saying those things. Well, to hear from a professional nothing more than the obvious at least clarified your mind and stopped you thinking in circles. "If you seek him…" Yet how was she to do that? "Opportunity is all." Was she to make it, then?
"Zenka," she asked silently, "won't you tell me, darling?" But for once he made no reply in her heart, only smiling as he had smiled in the lamplight at Melvda when he had promised that he would always love her and begged her never to forget him.
Rather abstractedly, she selected a plain robe of very pale gray and a contrasting necklace of tawny ziltate beads from the Telthearna; a present from some admirer. No doubt, she thought, their price had lined some Ortelgan pocket; perhaps Ged-la-Dan's.
Milvushina received her warmly and affectionately. The old reserves which had at one time constrained their relationship had entirely vanished, due-or so Maia felt- not only to their closer acquaintance and happier fortunes, but also to a certain mutual dependence which each felt without actually saying as much. Milvushina, an aristocrat to her finger-tips but nevertheless a girl from the back of
beyond, her man gone to the wars and her servants all Beklan, often found herself, even now, somewhat out of her depth. From Maia she could seek advice without breach of confidence or loss of dignity. Maia, for her part, was more than glad of a friend who, unlike the shearnas, was not for ever concerned with men, basting and the material advantages to be gained therefrom. Nennaunir and Otavis were warm-hearted, unenvious and the most easy-going and tolerant company imaginable, yet she not infrequently felt-to her own surprise and self-annoyance-that there were things about which she could not speak to them. Nennaunir, who admired her success, was plainly ready to stand by her anywhere; would have lent her money if she had needed it, lied for her or spoken up in her defense against anyone. Yet she could not have talked to Nennaunir about Zen-Kurel.
