Turning to Luma, she took her by the shoulders.
"Listen," she said, speaking firmly and unsmiling, "make a fire, bring the biggest pot you have, fill it with water and boil it. Do you understand?"
It took her some time to convince the girl that she meant what she said. Apparently everything here was governed by the time of day, and this was neither the time for lighting fires nor for boiling water. Luma had not expected to be set to work at this time. What did the young saiyett want water for? Hadn't she just bathed? Finally Maia had to threaten to take the matter to U-Nasada and also to report it to Anda-Nokomis as soon as they reached Melvda. At this Luma sulkily fetched the old woman and together, grumbling, they lit a fire and boiled three or four gallons of water. This Maia made them carry up the ladder into
the hut. Although a good deal of it was spilled on the way, enough was left for her purposes.
As best she could, she washed herself (including her hair) from head to foot, and then her clothes and sandals. After this she put her wet clothes back on her wet body and felt a good deal better. She had already thought about the next problem-supper. She called Luma in from beside the fire, where she was sitting with the old woman. It was clear enough that she had forfeited any liking the girl might originally have felt for her, but she was past caring.
"Luma," she said, "will you bring me some supper now, please?"
"Shagreh." Abruptly, the girl turned to go. Maia called her back.
"I want three hard-boiled eggs" (holding up three fingers) "and five tendrionas with the skins left on. Nothing else. Do you understand?"
"No eggs, saiyett." Explanations were clearly about to follow, but Maia checked them.
"If there are hens there are eggs. That man was eating eggs for his supper. You boil me three eggs. Shagreh?"
"Shagreh, saiyett."
Even in Suba, thought Maia, it would surely be difficult to contaminate shelled eggs and rinded fruit. It was a poor enough supper, but better than getting infection of the bowels.
She was finishing her meal by the dimmest and smokiest of lamplight when she heard someone on the ladder. "Luma?" she called. There was no immediate reply, but after a short pause a man's voice asked, "Can I come in?"
Maia, carrying the lamp over to the entrance, recognized Nasada. Putting out a hand, she helped him up into the room. As she did so she noticed, to her surprise, that he was now dressed like any Beklan, in a clean, if much mended, robe, and that the muddy smell which she had noticed that morning was no longer perceptible. The hand clasping hers, too, though rouph and hard, was dean.
She looked at him rather timidly in the flickering light, not sure how she should address him, for in spite of his short stature arid squat build he possessed a peculiar dignity which made her feel-as she certainly had not for many months past-younger than her sixteen years. She wondered why he had come; not, she felt intuitively, for the reason which would have brought many men. As this
thought crossed her mind it was followed by another and stranger one, namely that although the one thing she would have thought she would have leapt at was for some influential man to show himself attracted to her, for some reason she would have felt disappointed if this man had done so.
"Why, your dress is wet-wet through," he said, looking her up and down from under his bushy eyebrows. "Did you go in the water in it, or what?"
She laughed. "Oh, no, U-Nasada. I've just washed everything and I've nothing else to put on, see?"
"Well, then, we must get you something," said he decidedly. "It's not healthy to have wet clothes here, even though you mayn't feel uncomfortable. The girl should have lent you something."
He called to Luma, but neither she nor the old woman appeared to be within earshot.
"It doesn't matter, U-Nasada," said Maia. "I only washed them for fear of infection. They'll dry off soon enough."
"You're afraid of infection here?"
With anyone else, she would have been worried that he would think she was slighting his country or his people. But there was something reassuring in his plain directness. He had asked the question because he wanted a truthful answer.
"Very much, yes."
"I heard you'd been in the water. Well, you weren't to know: it must have been upsetting for you. Is that what's made you worry about infection?"
She nodded. "Well, yes-partly."
"I don't wonder. You'd better let me have a look at those leech-bites. It's not likely you've taken any harm, but it's best to be sure." He smiled. "I'm a sort of doctor, you see; the only sort there is here, anyway."
"I know. Bayub-Otal-Anda-Nokomis-told me."
"I'll get the girl to come in."
"What for, U-Nasada? I don't mind if you don't."
Suddenly she felt absurdly light-hearted. It was all so unexpected. With this man she could be her natural self. Not only was he not seeking anything from her; he would not, she felt sure, criticize or judge her-not even in his own mind-whatever she might say. In a word, she trusted him. She felt more at ease than at any time for days past- than at any time, indeed, since she had last been with
Occula. It was a reassuring feeling, a feeling of release; and being Maia, she acted on it with characteristic, impulsive gaiety.
"It's kind-it's very kind of you to have come," she went on. "Oh, this is so wet, I can't pull it off. D'you mind helping me?" She laughed. She couldn't help thinking it was funny that he should have supposed that she might want another girl to be present. It did not occur to her that perhaps he himself might have preferred it.
If so, he made no more of it, but helped her off with the damp, clinging dress and shift as smoothly as even Terebinthia could have done.
"You feel quite easy and natural with nothing on, do you?"
"Oh, that's what U-Lenkrit asked me on the river bank." She found herself pouring out to him the story of the Olmen crossing, for it still rankled.
"So that was all the thanks I got," she ended.
"Well," he said, "they were the ones who lost dignity there; not you."
"Lost dignity, U-Nasada? That seems a funny old way of looking at it."
"Well, maybe," he answered, smiling at her in the most relaxed way as she sat naked before him. "Anyway, I'd better have a look at the bites. How many were there, do you know?"
"Well, three for certain-the ankle here, and the back of the knee, and this thigh. But might be one or two more for all I know."
"None between your legs-I mean, in the private parts? Only that can be serious, especially if it goes unnoticed: we'd better make sure. You don't mind that, either? My hands, I mean?"
Lying down on the bed, she answered, "I shan't bite, U-Nasada."
"Bite? Like the akrebah, you mean?"
"No; like the Sacred Queen's dog." And while he examined her she told him the story of Fornis's unhesitant handling of the guard-hound which could have bitten either of her hands through.
"Well," he said at length, "I'm as good as certain you've got nothing to worry about, though it might be as well to make sure tomorrow. My eyes are every bit as old as I am, you see, and though doctors often have to work by
lamplight, it's not ideal. You're not to go putting those wet clothes back on: you're to get into bed now, Maia of Serrelind. That was my other reason for coming-to make sure you get a good night's sleep. Will you take a sleeping-draft if I make one? It's not very strong."
"Yes, I'll do whatever you say, U-Nasada." She drew up the ragged coverlet and put a cushion under her head.