She fell asleep at last, just as first light was breaking and the mynahs and starlings were beginning to murmur along the ledges outside. She dreamt of the river and the soldiers who had carried her to Sendekar, but when she woke could find little meaning or comfort in the dream. Poor Maia was young enough to feel ashamed of what she was going to do; nor did it occur to her that this shame was creditable.
Brero, like the good fellow he was, could sense that something was wrong. He stood fidgeting on the little terrace as Maia, who had summoned him, at first remained silent, hesitating for the last time before sending her irreclaimable message. There were three possible ways of doing it. (Ah, rope, knife or poison, she thought bitterly; these being the options traditionally offered in the empire to someone compelled to commit suicide.) Either she could send Eud-Ecachlon a letter of acceptance, or she could herself go to Kembri's house and tell him; or else she could invite him to come and see her again. Not having much confidence for writing a letter (and not, of course, wishing to employ a scribe) and having no particular desire to encounter Kembri, she had decided on the last, and accordingly had packed Ogma off to the markets of the lower city for the makings of a slap-up dinner. It really was like being executed, she thought. If it had to happen, then it ought to be endured with style and courage. Yet now, with Brero waiting uneasily before her, she hung back, looked
at the ground, drummed her fingers on her knee, began to speak and then broke off.
"Brero, I want you-I want you to-"
"Yes, saiyett?"
These were the last moments of her youth, she thought. She had only to speak, now, and her life would cease to be her own, for ever. Her tongue was like a knife, about to cut away all that was past, which would thereupon float away and disappear behind her. There'd be no delay, either; she felt sure of that. Kembri would not lose any time in making the news of the betrothal public throughout the city.
She stood up and turned aside, filled with an uncontrollable anguish. In the act of trying to speak her lips trembled and for a few moments her sight actually clouded over. She realized that Brero had taken her arm and led her the few steps back to the bench.
"Very awkward times, these, saiyett; very awkward for everyone."
She looked up into his rugged, kindly face, not sure whether he meant something specific or was only trying as best he could to express a vague sympathy.
"I don't know whether you've heard the news, saiyett, but what they're saying in our mess is that Santil-ke-Er-ketlis has actually defeated Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion somewhere in Yelda, and our lads are falling back into Lapan. You wouldn't happen to know, I suppose, whether that's true?"
What's that to me? she thought. "No, I haven't heard anything, Brero. If I do I'll pass it on to you."
He hesitated. "Saiyett, I can see you're a bit upset, like; and that's none of my business, of course. But for what it's worth, I'd like to warn you-though I hope you won't tell anyone it came from me-that I'm not the only fellow in our mob as reckons there's going to be a whole lot of trouble, and 'fore very much longer too."
He paused, but she was too much preoccupied to prompt him.
"Only we sometimes get to hear things, saiyett, before they're given out by the heralds, you see; and sometimes, come to that, things that never
plenty of action since I first joined up-but it's a good soldier who knows how to look after himself, as they say. If you could use your influence-that's if you're satisfied, saiyett, as I hope you are-I'm sure I'll be very grateful."
Recalled to her self-possession by this harmless and understandable bit of self-seeking, she smiled.
"Of course I will, Brero; don't worry. Now could you please be so kind as to go to the Lord General's house, ask for Lord Eud-Ecachlon of Urtah and tell him I'll be honored if he'll come to dinner with me a little after noon today?"
"But whatever kept you so long, Ogma? Oh, yes, I'm sure you must have taken great care to get all the best you could find. I know you always do-those brillions look lovely, and so do the trout-only now it's so late in the morning. Lord Eud-Ecachlon will be here quite soon and you'll need all of an hour to get dinner ready. Do make a start as quick as you can, there's a dear."
