Shend-Lador, therefore, when he came, she had received most gladly. When Ogma entered to announce him, she had been struggling once again with "The Deeds of Deparioth." She laid the scroll aside and jumped up eagerly.
He was leaner and browner, and his clothes were more carelessly worn than in the old days. Yet he was the sort
of uncomplicated young man who, without particularly considering the matter, holds it virtually a point of honor always to behave in a light-hearted, cheerful manner. He would have been ashamed for anyone ever to see him looking gloomy, except perhaps at a funeral or some similar occasion. No doubt he had joked his way through the whole Chalcon campaign and done his best to keep his men's spirits up through everything.
"I hope you're as glad to see me, Maia, as I am to see you," he said, as soon as they had sat down. "Well, let's say almost as glad, since you've got all the advantages."
"I couldn't have hoped to see anyone better," she answered.
"No swimming in the Barb tonight, then?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Too shallow for high diving now, is it?"
"I will if you will," she answered mischievously, pouring his wine.
"Why," said he, "you don't think I'd put you to the trouble of saving my life twice, surely? It wasn't worth saving once, you know. All the same, I'm glad you did it. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here now, would I, drinking Yeldashay with the Serrelinda?"
He had a charming aptitude for paying compliments with every appearance of sincerity and conviction. He admired her dress, praised the wine, was enchanted by the cabinet of fishes and insisted on Ogma accepting ten meld. He told a bawdy joke which was really funny, making Maia roar with laughter and slap his hand in mock reproof. For some time longer they talked of trivial things, both aware that they were circling a whirlpool whose center they could not, ultimately, avoid.
It was when he got up and crossed the room to fetch a box of nut thrilsa which he had brought as a present, that she first noticed that he was limping.
"What is it?" she asked, pointing. "Have you been wounded?"
"Oh, it's nothing," he answered, grinning. "I was running much too fast to collect anything serious, believe me. It'll be all right in a week or two."
"But did you walk back with Elvair from Lapan like that?"
"Well, someone had to come with him," said Shend-Lador.
"Shenda," she asked, "what happened? What
"Not getting out of that, is there?" he said, sitting down again and picking up his goblet. He paused. "You really want to hear everything, do you? Only-"
"Yes, I do. I've always liked Elvair: he's been very kind to me. If he's in trouble I'm sorry."
"Well, all I can honestly say, Maia, is that it's a pity for a lot of good lads that he couldn't just have stayed here and gone on being kind to you."
She said nothing, waiting.
"It wasn't too bad at the start," began Shend-Lador after a little. "The men were all in good heart and we went into Chalcon as keen as a pack of hounds on the scent. But before long we found we couldn't seem to come to grips with the enemy; and then we had to face the fact that it wasn't safe even to send out patrols to try and discover where he was, because they simply got cut up. It's appalling country-thick woodland, a lot of it, where you can't see further than a few yards, with torrents coming down out of the mountains every mile or so; not particularly wide, but swift, and very nasty to ford.
"What we wanted, of course, was a battle, but that wasn't Erketlis's idea at all. And the plain truth was that Elvair didn't really know anything about generalship or campaigning. Nor did I, come to that, but we had experienced officers who did. There was a regular officer, Kap-parah, who struck me as particularly useful-a crafty professional survivor if ever I saw one. But Elvair wouldn't hear a word from him.
" 'You know the mistake, don't you?' this Kapparah said to me one night when we were by ourselves. 'The mistake is obliging Erketlis by charging up and down this Cran-forsaken wilderness. What we ought to have done was pitch camp somewhere not too far into Chalcon, somewhere where we could be sure of our supplies; burned some villages taken a few hostages and waited. If you're dealing with one of these proud-hearted, feudal heldril like Erketlis, sooner or later his people are going to start telling him it's a matter of honor to attack; "Drive the hated invader from our native soil" and all that. Then we could have fought him where we wanted, in a spot of our own
choosing. As it is, we're looking about as ridiculous as a man chasing an untrained puppy. Just what the puppy wants, of course.'
