questions or offered help, but although the Subans always answered her courteously, she soon grasped that she was more hindrance than use and might as well accept that she was about as valuable as a tailor in a smithy.
Together with her anxiety about the future, she was now beginning to feel, more acutely than at any time since leaving Bekla, two further deprivations. One was of the luxury and comfort of the High Counselor's household, which had softened her and to which, she now realized, she had become more accustomed than she had supposed. During the first two or three days she had enjoyed standing up to the journey, never envisaging that anything could go wrong with Kembri's plan. Now, however, it was no longer a matter of bearing hardship with the prospect of reward. Gone forever were the delicious meals, the soft bed, the clothes and jewels, the ready availability of Ogma to do whatever was wanted, the admiration of the Leopards and her own future as a dancer. Oh, and above all, she had lost Occula! "Kantza-Merada blast this damned, dirty sink of web-footed bastards!" she whispered under her breath.
Her other need was simpler and deeper. She wanted a man. Ever since Tharrin, she had hardly been without one for more than a few days. She remembered how once she had been cross with Occula for taking her up short when she had talked about randy goats in the upper city who couldn't go without. "Banzi, you think men are randy and you're not? Doan' you know it goes far deeper with girls? Men-they talk and boast about it and we doan': and you take all that at face value. But men have a sort of silly notion there's somethin' clever about doin' without. Food, drink, sleep, women-oh, doan' they just love to boast that they're brave, brave soldiers who can go without if they're put to it? So can we. But when did you ever hear a girl boastin' about goin' without? Girls who have to go without bastin' just feel sorry, not proud. One day you'll find out that I'm right."
She'd found out now, she thought. On and off for hours she'd been tormented, not by any longing for this man or that-not for the devouring potency of Kembri, the elegant style of Elvair-ka-Virrion, the lewdness of Sencho-but simply for the thing itself. Her mind kept dwelling on the actual physical sensations, like that of a near-starving person obsessed with food; and the recollection of her suf-
ferings-the river crossing, her wounded shin, the leeches- only seemed to sharpen it, as Sencho had once told her that girls were often sharpened by a good whipping. Oh, I'd take just about any man! she thought; that I would!
Lying prone on the raised, flat stern and trying to turn her mind to something else, she began considering the strangeness of coming, in this wilderness, upon so unexpected a person as Nasada. He puzzled her. It was nothing to do with his having no sexual interest in her. After all, neither had Zuno; nor had Sarget on the night of the senguela, whatever might have been his private feelings. Maia had no general objection to men not showing desire for her. Her dislike of Bayub-Otal stemmed not from this, but from his actual rejection of her advances-that and the contemptuous way in which he had spoken of what he regarded as her degradation in the High Counselor's household. Nasada, on the other hand, she not only liked-and wanted him to like her-but also intuitively trusted as she had never trusted anyone else. This was not simply a matter of his being a doctor and having taken the trouble to come to see her last night. No, it was an attraction the nature of which she could not really explain to herself. He was wise, yet he didn't talk down to her. He made her feel secure. She wanted to get to know him better, to talk to him, to tell him more about herself, ask him all manner of questions and hear what he had to say in reply; to be-well, to be his friend. He made her feel she was valuable as a person, not just as an expensive and beautiful concubine. She didn't desire him-oh, no, the very idea was out of the question; that would spoil it all; nor did she entertain any hope that he would help her to escape from Suba. Yet he had put new heart into her, and a feeling that she could face the future. If he had not been with her now-if there had been no one but Luma and Tescon-she was not sure but what she mightn't have been driven to some desperate turn.
She came out of these reflections as Tescon spoke.
"Well, Shakkarn be thanked, that's the worst of it, U-Nasada. Here's Dark Entry at last."
For some time they had been paddling cautiously through a watery grove of huge trees stretching out invasive roots under the shallow water, many of which extended for yards and were like submerged rocks on which a boat could ground or even hole itself. As Tescon spoke he made two
quick strokes on each side and the kilyett, immediately gaining speed and thrusting its bow into a kind of deep cavern of overhanging branches, came out beyond into slow-moving, open water-the first flowing water Maia had seen since they started. The breadth across to the opposite side-another line of trees and reeds-was about thirty yards. Looking one way and the other as Tescon, back-paddling, turned the boat through a right-angle and headed it into the current, she saw the vista of a long channel, for all the world like a track through a forest, extending away in each direction.
Tescon glanced at her. "This is the Nordesh. Runs clear all the way to Melvda."
She smiled and nodded. He settled back silently, letting the boat drift with the current and using his paddle merely to keep it on course. Luma, further forward, fell once again into the same monotonous drone which Maia had heard the day before. Proper high-spirited bunch, aren't they? she thought. Wonder where we're going to stop for the night? As she looked up into the green gloom, they approached and passed beneath a great, black turtle, motionless on a branch overhanging the stream. She fell to wondering how they mated and whether they enjoyed it.
All that afternoon, at the speed of a man strolling, they traveled on down the Nordesh. What with the humidity, the unvarying sameness of the stream and the tunnel of trees above, the journey became almost like a trance. Su-bans, Maia felt, seemed no more conscious of tedium than the water-fowl among which they lived; nor, for the moment, was she disposed to blame them. To her, one part of Suba seemed as monotonous as another and she was in no particular haste to arrive at any destination- Luma, for her part, showed less interest than an animal in what lay around them, sitting with bowed head for half an hour at a stretch, and merely nodding, or murmuring "Shagreh," when anyone spoke to her. Maia wondered why she couldn't go to sleep and be done with it.
The light-such as it was-was at last beginning to fade when, as they drifted round the curve of a long, regular bend, they saw ahead of them another kilyett, smaller than their own, moored against the right bank. At first it seemed to be empty, but on coming closer they saw two youths stretched out in the bottom, either asleep or dozing, Tes-
con hailed them and they both sat up quickly, one calling out "U-Nasada?"
Nasada answered, whereupon they untied their boat and took up their paddles.
"We're from Lukrait," said one, palm to forehead, as Tescon, who could steer the heavy kilyett to an inch, slid alongside. "Our elder sent us to wait here and guide you in when you came."
"That's still U-Makron, I hope?" asked Nasada and, as the lad nodded, "It must be-oh, two years, I suppose, since I was last at Lukrait."
"And two months and three days," replied the lad, smiling. "You don't remember me, then, U-Nasada?"