In the instant of diving Maia had recognized the watcher below her. It was the Sacred Queen.
These Beklans were no swimmers: that she had known all along. To them, a girl who made nothing of plunging twelve feet into deep water seemed almost miraculous. All round her, from both banks, arose cries of wonder and acclamation. Waving, she turned on her back, arching her breasts clear of the surface and then, with hands gently fanning beneath her, eased herself smoothly towards the center of the pool.
The water was warmer than she had expected. It really was a lovely night for a swim. Should she, after all, simply swim away down the length of the Barb? Ah, but the High Counselor? And then again, she'd better not lose touch with Elvair-ka-Virrion, who'd promised to keep her out of trouble. Still, all these rich people-she might as well show them a thing or two now she'd started. One thing might lead to another, as Occula was always saying.
Swimming towards the shore, she stopped some yards out and lowered her feet, but found no bottom. A small crowd had gathered on the bank, as near to her as they could get. One young man knelt, miming anguished longing and holding out his hands in mock entreaty, while another took off his gold chain and held it up, offering to give it to her if only she would come ashore and let him put it round her neck for himself.
Exhilarated, she began to tantalize them, jumping herself up and down in the water and opening her arms in invitation.
"Who's going to join me?" she cried, laughing up at them. "Isn't there a single one of you man enough to come in and catch me?"
"It's too deep, Maia," called Shend-Lador. "Come a bit further in, where we can wade!"
He pointed along the curve of the shore. After one quick look to make sure of her direction and the distance, she dived under, swam a dozen strokes and came up to find herself just in her depth and about twenty yards out from the bank.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" she called to Shend-Lador. "You're afraid to come in and catch me!"
For answer he began taking off his clothes, tossing them here and there and then sitting down while two of the girls, shouting with laughter, pulled off his shoes and breeches. Four or five other young men followed his example.
"What's the reward, Maia?" shouted a young gallant with a wreath of scarlet trepsis round his shoulders.
Before she could speak, Elvair-ka-Virrion's voice answered.
"Anyone who catches her can have her-that's the reward!"
Already Shend-Lador and three more had leapt into the water and were wading out towards her. One of these, an aider man, tried to clutch Shend-Lador and pull him back,
but himself overbalanced and fell his length amid roars of delight from the spectators. Maia, waiting until the last possible moment, swam a few lazy strokes further out. Shend-Lador plunged after her up to his neck, whereupon she turned and slipped shorewards past him, stroking his cheek with her fingers and gliding away as he made a clumsy grab which missed her by a foot.
Now she was swimming back and forth between them as they floundered and clutched this way and that; pretending to offer herself and vanishing under water just when they all felt sure she must be caught; coming up behind Shend-Lador and nibbling his shoulder before he had even realized she was there. Then, swimming inshore again, she stood up no more than knee-deep, displaying herself in the moonlight, imploring them to make haste, for she felt so lonely and feared she would never be caught at all. At this a big, bearded man, still in the act of undressing, leapt off the bank in his breeches and came splashing towards her. Maia, diving quickly, pulled them round his knees as he lunged forward, groping. Shouts of laughter and derision rose from the bank as her prank revealed that he had plainly been very eager to catch her indeed.
Although their admiration and her own sense of supremacy were delightful, nevertheless she could not help beginning, now, to feel a trifle weary of the game. She had hoped that there might have been one swimmer among them at least. As it was, the whole lot of them together couldn't have caught her if they'd tried all night, and her common sense told her that however desirable she might be, they would soon get tired of being made to look fools. Yet how best to bring it to an end? She had not foreseen that Elvair-ka-Virrion, in his high spirits, would take it upon himself to offer her as a prize. All the same, she thought, she'd have had no real objection. They were all rich and high-born, else they wouldn't be here. The story would have got around and likely increased her popularity; and besides, there'd almost certainly have been a generous lygol into the bargain. She could simply have picked out a man she fancied, let herself be caught in some amusing way and then done what was expected of her. But what put all this out of the question was the High Counselor. Ah, and it must be about time she was getting back to him an' all. Perhaps he was already asking where she'd got to?
If he were to miss her and then learn that she'd been- She thought of Meris. Oh, Cran, there was no time to be lost; no, not a minute! She'd better just swim straight back along the lake-they'd never let her go else-never mind her clothes-she could always ask a slave to go and fetch them back from Elvair-ka-Virrion.
Suddenly, cutting through the hubbub, there came a different kind of cry-quick and desperate, a yell of fear cut short in a choking gasp. Shend-Lador, in his eagerness to reach her, had missed his footing and was struggling in deep water. As she looked, his head went under, reappeared for a moment and vanished.
Most of those on the bank were still running about laughing. Only a few had seen what had happened, and these were shouting helplessly and pointing to where Shend-Lador had disappeared.
Maia, reaching the place in six or seven strokes and diving instantly, came upon him a few feet below the surface. He was still struggling, but feebly. As she seized him he grabbed her in panic and she bit his hand as hard as she could. He let go and she kicked upward, got his head above water, turned on her back and dragged him some five or six yards towards the bank. Splashing and jerking, he clutched her again and almost pulled her under; this time she could scarcely break his hold,and, having done so with difficulty, was forced to let him go while she recovered herself. They were both in their depth now, but he could not stand unaided. She put one arm round him, trying to reassure him as he leant upon her, vomiting water over her shoulder.
"All right, Maia, leave him now. You've done enough!"
It was Elvair-ka-Virrion, together with some other young man whom she did not know. Together they took Shend-Lador between them and began wading back towards the bank. Maia, swimming, reached it before them, put her hands on the stone coping, vaulted out and turned, sitting with her legs in the water. She felt exhausted, and now noticed for the first time a deep scratch along her arm. It was bleeding and it hurt. No one was paying any attention to her. They were all gathered round Shend-Lador as Elvair-ka-Virrion heaved him up onto the grass.
"What's your name, child?"
She looked up. Standing over her was the Sacred Queen,
gazing down with the same intent, unsmiling expression that had startled her in diving from the zoan tree.
Maia, having no idea what it was correct for her to do, and aii-too-conscious of her wet, bleeding, dishevelled nakedness, scrambled up and knelt at the queen's feet.
"I said, what's your name?"
"Maia, saiyett. Maia of Serrelind."
"Stand up."
Maia did as she was told. The queen was only slightly taller than herself. She was wearing a white cloak over a pale-green robe gathered at the waist with an enamelled belt, in which was sheathed a pair of silver knives. A little way behind her stood a dark, middle-aged woman in a plain but very fine dress of gray silk who must, Maia realized, be in attendance.