"My father would rest in peace. And you-p-you've got dangerous enemies here-it's common knowledge. You'd have none, would you? And it would do more than anything else to reconcile Urtah to Bekla."
She started up from beside him. "What are you saying, Euda?"
"And I've already put it to Kembri that as part of the arrangement-as a sign of the Leopards' approval and goodwill-he should release Bayub-Otal on a firm promise that he'll give no more trouble. Kembri said he felt sure you'd be delighted. You'd realize, he said, that the arrangement would solve all manner of problems, for you and for Bekla. But apart from that, to be the first lady in the land-"
"Euda, are you asking me to marry you?"
"I'm asking you to marry me and to become High Bar-oneness of Urtah: for the sake of my people and myself. That's why I came to Bekla. And I assure you it's with my father's full approval."
Moaning, she sank down on the grass, her face buried in her hands. "O Cran! O Cran and Airtha!"
He stroked her hair. "What's the matter? It's a shock, Maia, is that it? I suppose I've done it clumsily. I'm afraid I'm not stylish and dashing, like Elvair-ka-Virrion-I know that. I'm just a heldro; I don't know how you go about these things in Bekla-"
"No, no; 'tain't that. Oh, I dunno what to say! You can't want me-a girl from Sencho's-"
"Don't talk like that! That's all past and over! I'm speaking to the renowned, heroic beauty Maia Serrelinda." Then, as she said no more, her face still in her hands, he went on, "Are you afraid of it? You shouldn't be. Do you know what they think of you in Urtah? Let me tell you some-
thing. Only the other day, on my way here, I was talking to one of my principal tenants, a prosperous farmer down towards the south-west of the province. It seems his daughter knows you-a girl called Gehta. She met you when you were with Bayub-Otal on the way to Suba. 'She saved us all,' he said. 'I'd give her half my farm if she asked me for it. Why, if once those Terekenalters had got across-' "
With a dazed air, Maia, who could scarcely take in what he was saying, rose to her feet. "I-can I think it over, my lord? I need time-"
"Does it need thinking over? To be High Baroness of Urtah?"
"I-oh, don't think as I don't feel all the honor you're doing me, Euda. No, it's-"
"I'm old, is that it? The upper city's smart and gay-"
"Oh, don't talk like that, my lord! It's not right for a high baron's heir to be talking like that-"
"Perhaps it's not. No, you're right, of course. Well, you'd be able to change me a good deal, I expect; a girl like you. If ever there was a girl who was obviously favored by the gods-"
Maia, realizing that with this rather awkward, insensitive man their talk could hardly come to an end unless she were to bring it about herself, made a supreme effort to regain her composure.
"You'll understand, my lord-Euda-that this is all a surprise to me; unexpected, like. I feel sort of confused. I can't talk any more just now. Would you mind leaving me?"
"But what shall I tell Kembri?" he asked.
At this she could flare up, her tongue loosened naturally and spontaneously.
"Kembri? What in Lespa's name has Kembri got to do with it? This is between you and me, isn't it?"
He took it without a retort. "I'm sorry. When shall I see you again?"
"I'll send you a message. You in the same lodgings- down by the Tower of the Orphans?"
"No; but do you know, I went back there this morning-just to see the room where we were so happy together that afternoon last Melekril? You won't have forgotten?" She shook her head. "I'm staying in Kembri's house this time."
"Are you? I see." But still she couldn't feel for him the contempt which would have risen up in Occula.
She kissed him on both cheeks. "Good-bye. I'll send my soldier, like I said."
He raised his palm to his forehead, did the heir of Urtah, and walked away through the garden, leaving the Serre-linda pacing back and forth on the grassy shore.
75: AND GETS AN ANSWER
She could not sleep. The silence and the clear, bright moonlight seemed as though enclosing and holding her fixed, immobile-like a stone in the jam, she thought wryly. Every now and then would sound faintly the voice of the watchman on the Peacock Wall. Once she heard swans' wings overhead, and once a quick, harsh clamor as something alarmed the duck on the Barb. Whatever shall I do? she thought. What shall I do?
She had said nothing to Milvushina. She had not the least doubt that if she were to tell her about Zen-Kurel, Milvushina would be sympathetic and her secret would remain safe. No, it wasn't that. It was, rather, that she could not bear the highly probable prospect of Milvushina advising her to forget Zen-Kurel-advice which anyone would give, or so it seemed to her. That was beyond question, she thought, the advice she would get from Occula. She writhed to imagine Occula's generous, unselfish delight at the news of Eud-Ecachlon's proposal. "High Baroness of Urtah, banzi? You're jokin'!" Yes, High Baroness of Urtah-a sixteen-year-old peasant girl from the Tonil-dan Waste. And not only on account of her beauty-not this time. She remembered how she had told Zenka, that night in Melvda-Rain, of her resentment that everything seemed to happen to her on account of her beauty, and how easily and confidently he had taken it in his stride and set it aside. "You wouldn't like it much if I said you weren't beautiful." And then-oh, how her tears fell at the memory!-he'd made love to her again-like a hero, like a god, like an overflowing fountain of joy and sincerity and-yes, regard-the like of which she hadn't known existed. "When it comes, my girl," old Drigga had said to her once, "you won't have to worry about whether it's real or not. True
love's like lightning-there's no doubt about it." No, she thought wretchedly, no doubt about it. What am I to do? O Lespa, what am I to do?
Kembri had been clever, she thought: he was an adroit politician. And-yes-in his own grim way he was being kind to her-as kind as he was capable of being to anybody. She was as sure as she could well be that the idea had originated with him and not with Eud-Ecachlon. The very way Eud-Ecachlon had put it was enough to tell her that. And to do Kembri justice, he'd given her clear warning. Besides, to himself it must seem that he was treating her generously indeed. The marriage offered the solution to several problems, a most shrewd stroke of policy from every angle, public and private; to say nothing of the confidence he must feel in her as suitable for such a position from Bekla's point of view. By implication it was a bigger compliment than she could ever have expected to be paid to her. And Eud-Ecachlon-that decent, dull, not-too-sure-of-himself man, fated but not gifted to be a High Baron, burdened with the memory of an unhappy, ludicrous failure in love which had clouded him for years-he stood to get a bride whom thousands throughout the empire would give their eyes for.
So much for the protagonists. But politically, Kembri would have disposed, smoothly and irreproachably, of his greatest stumbling-block to Milvushina as Sacred Queen. He would have no need, now, to run the risk of killing a girl whose murder, even if only suspected, would bring the whole city about his ears; while from the point of view of the Leopards the Serrelinda ought to prove just the thing for Urtah. The Urtans would be delighted and flattered to get her. She would attract their loyalty and strengthen Eud-Ecachlon's position as High Baron. She might even, in some unforeseen way or other (if Karnat were to die, say, and the power of Terekenalt weaken), prove contributory to bringing about a peaceful re-unification of Suba with Urtah. There would be plenty of older people in Kendron-Urtah who remembered Nokomis. Kembri could not, of course, be aware of her, Maia's, acutal blood-relationship to Nokomis, but the odds were that he had already learned of the striking physical resemblance. Yet the blood-relationship, if she were to reveal it, would constitute no bar to her marriage with Eud-Ecachlon. They were cousins. His father had been her aunt's lover; nothing more than