Maia полностью

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, suddenly and briskly, with a complete change of manner. Once more he was pressing ahead. That her love for Zen-Kurel and her (most would say) hopeless purpose were right and unquestionable-with him, all that went without saying. Now, as naturally as though they had been engaged upon some matter such as a journey or a purchase, he was down to considering ways and means.

"I don't know, U-Nasada: I don't know what to do. I've thought of going out by myself to meet the Palteshi army and offering to ransom Zenka."

"With anyone but Form's that might have worked. But once bitten, twice shy, don't you think? If I were you I shouldn't go paying any more ransoms to the likes of her."

"Then what?"

He bent and kissed her cheek, raised her to her feet and himself remained standing until she had sat down once more in her own chair.

"For the time being it all depends on the fighting, doesn't it? I don't know what Kembri's plans are,' of course, but obviously he'll have to send some sort of troops against her, and I think you can only wait for the outcome."

"But the priest said, 'You'll find him if you seek him yourself and then he said, 'Opportunity's everything.' "

"But that works both ways, you know-like a lot of things those sort of people say to you. It could mean 'Wait for the opportunity', couldn't it? And as things stand just at this moment, I don't think you've got one. You're young- eager-brave-you find inaction hard to bear-you want to feel you're doing something-anything. I know that feeling. But I think you must wait and see what comes of the fighting."

"But by then it could be too late, U-Nasada!"

"No, I don't think so. Your Zen-Kurel's a Katrian hostage: that's to say, he's being held by Fornis to ensure that Karnat won't attack Paltesh. People are usually reluctant to kill hostages, you know. It's not like spending money or using soldiers: it's very much a last resort. Once you've killed a hostage, that's that: you've antagonized the other side and got nothing for it. So I'd say, wait here and Zen-Kurel will probably come to you, one way or the other: and that'll be where your opportunity begins. Waiting can be the hardest work in the world, you know. You are doing something for Zen-Kurel, simply by waiting here."

She forced a smile. "Shagreh."

"Shagreh."

"What does it mean, U-Nasada? Every time I thought I knew, next time it seemed to mean something different."

He laughed. "It can mean almost anything you like, including Yes' and 'No', and 'I don't know.' But as you're Suban, at least you'd better learn to pronounce it properly. It's not 'Shagreh': it's 'Shagreh'."

"Shagreh."

"No! 'Shagreh.' "

"I said 'Shagreh.' "

"I know you did. You're still saying it. It's 'Shagreh.' "

"Oh, Nasada, what's the Suban for 'I love you: you cheer me up'?"

"No Suban would phrase it like that. Let me see-"

For the next three-quarters of an hour Maia tied her voice into knots of Suban articulation and inflection, laughing delightedly at Nasada's comic pretenses of impatience and inventing more and more absurd or outrageous phrases for him to teach her. He entered into the game as gaily as though he had been the same age as herself, so that she wondered with admiration and even with regret what he could have been like when he was. After her soldiers had left to take him, in her jekzha, the short distance back to his quarters, she went to bed feeling more hopeful and encouraged than for many days past.

"I'm sorry, Brero," said Maia.

She was most anxious that he should believe her. She would have hated him to think that she did not feel sincere regard for him-for all three of them, but him in particular. "I've done everything I can, honest I have."

It was true; she had. She had even steeled herself to go and see Eud-Ecachlon, whom Kembri, she was told at the Barons' Palace, had left in charge of the musters. She had waited an hour and been treated exactly as she had expected-with chilly correctness and a firm assertion that as matters stood no single available soldier could be dispensed with. "You know, of course," Eud-Ecachlon had said coldly, "that if it were possible I would certainly make an exception in favor of you." Maia had colored, raised her palm to her forehead and left him without another word: so she had deprived herself of discussing any question of substitutes, or of how she was expected to get about without her soldiers.

Now, Brero and his mates were standing before her, equipped for active service-swords on left hips, daggers on right, Gelt breastplates, hard leather helmets and leg-