At last the worshippers seemed driven to despair. The priestly chorus, prostrating themselves round the edge of the pavement, proclaimed, in a sobbing lament, that the god must himself have become the victim of winter and accordingly would never return. The chief priest, casting off his robes to reveal, beneath, the leather jerkin of a slave, called aloud upon any man or woman whatsoever who would come forward to save the empire in its peril. At the same time the candles round the arcade were extinguished and from outside the wailing of mourners was heard. As they ceased and all became silent, the god, in the dim daylight slanting down from above, lay alone among his unavailing gifts.

After a pause, during which the frightened weeping of a young girl-too young to be present, perhaps-could be plainly heard from among the women's seats, the silence was broken by a sudden, heavy knocking on the great door of the temple. The chief priest, rising to his feet, looked about him in apparent surprise. Taking up his staff, he made his way out and could be heard ordering the door to be opened. A few moments later rose the sound of girls' voices singing as they approached. Then a beautiful little child, about eight years old, crowned with spring flowers, ran into the middle of the pavement, flung out her arms and cried, "The Sacred Queen! The Sacred Queen!"

The girls, dressed alternately in green and in white, their arms laden with blossom (the scent of which rose up to Maia), entered, as had the priests, in two files, singing, as they came, that the empire was about to be delivered, since they were now bringing to the god the most precious gift in heaven and earth. When at length they too halted,

each was standing beside one of the prostrate priests, whom she raised to his feet, smiling at him in comfort and reassurance.

The girls, all young and beautiful, mimed this part of the ceremony with an air of happy gaiety, to which the priests responded by showing first astonishment, then disbelief and finally, puzzled expectation as their new companions turned towards the eastern entry, each raising one arm, both in indication and in greeting. The chief priest resumed his robes. Then, as he knelt to receive her, trumpets sounded and Queen Fornis herself entered alone.

Since becoming Sacred Queen of Airtha, Fornis had had the shrewdness to modify considerably the ways of her youth and to appear in public only to planned effect. (Maia, for example, had never yet set eyes on her.) She took the greatest care of her appearance and now, although in her thirty-fourth year, still possessed the flawless skin and almost luminous auburn hair which had made so deep an impression on the eleven-year-old Occula in the palace of Senda-na-Say. Together with these she had retained an extraordinary, energetic vitality, which was manifest in her manner, her movements and everything she did. A kind of swift, confident power and domination emanated from her, exhilarating in their effect and to most of the people evidence enough, together with her beauty, that she must be god-favored, the veritable talisman and luck of the empire.

As she now appeared, pausing for a few moments under the eastern arch, Maia heard Occula, beside her, utter a kind of stifled moan. She turned quickly towards her, but the black girl had already controlled herself and was once more looking down in silence, biting her lip.

Queen Fornis was dressed in the white, full-skirted robe of a Beklan bride and carried a long, trailing bouquet of green-and-white golian lilies, the first flowers of spring. In this she conformed to tradition. Like Sencho, however, she did not hesitate to modify old forms of dress to her taste. Her present robe, like the one in which Occula had first seen her, was half-transparent, ornamented with green ribbons at the sleeves and shoulders and gathered at the waist with a broad, green sash. Upon her head was the crown of Airtha, most sacred and costly of the temple treasures, its aquamarines and huge, irregular emeralds catching the light of the re-lit candles as she stepped for-

ward onto the central pavement. Maia, staring, caught her breath.

"Never seen her before?" murmured Sednil in her ear.

Shaking her head, Maia became aware of Occula leaning towards her on the other side.

"Those emeralds are Zai's," whispered the black girl through clenched teeth.

"But the crown's old, surely?" answered Maia.

"I doan' care," said Occula. "That big one in the middle- I've held it in my hand-I'd know it anywhere."

Now began a ritual of question and answer between the chief priest and the beautiful lady. Who was she, he asked, and whence had she come, professing power to save the empire and revive the year? In a clear, musical voice, with no more than a trace of Paltesh in the accent, she replied that Airtha of the Diadem had spoken to her, bidding her have no fear to put herself forward, for the goddess had appointed her as her chosen vessel.

Yet why did she think she could succeed where all other attempts had failed? Because, she answered, Airtha possessed her. This was even now Airtha of the Diadem speaking through her lips; she who had power to succor all things living, yes and even to raise the dead in the world beyond. She had come to awaken the god by bringing him the most precious gift in the world.

At this the chief priest prostrated himself; yet, giving as justification his sacred responsibility, he still wished to learn what warrant she might have for saying that she was the chosen incarnation of the goddess. To this she made no spoken reply at all, merely standing motionless while two of her maidens came forward, took her flowers and then divested her of her robe. It was fastened down the front with gold clasps, and as it fell open and was smoothly drawn away from her shoulders and arms, leaving her completely naked, neither her easy posture nor the calm, joyous expression of her face altered in the slightest degree. "Here is my warrant," she seemed to say. "Judge for yourself, since you have sought to know. Before, in using mere words, I was making a concession to your human nescience."

The chief priest, veiling his gaze, as though dazzled, with a forearm before his brow, begged her to deign to tell them what gift it might be-this greatest gift-which she

had brought to waken the god and rejuvenate his power. And to this she answered "Love."

Thereupon began, somewhere beyond, a low, barely-audible throbbing of zhuas. The chief priest and his followers withdrew, while the queen's attendants re-grouped themselves under the eastern arch, singing as they did so the wedding hymn with which all brides in Bekla were customarily escorted to the marriage-chamber. Meanwhile the little girl, unaided, extinguished the candles for the second time and then, once more raising her arms to the assembly, preceded the women out of the temple.

The queen, left alone with the sleeping god, turned, walked slowly to the side of the marble couch and, kneeling down, took his bronze fingers in her own. Maia, watching spellbound and recalling what it felt like to act before an audience a part of this nature, could detect in her manner no hint of artificiality or of anything that did not appear spontaneous and natural. Bending forward, Fornis kissed the god's lips and then, lying down lightly and easily beside him, put one arm round his shoulders and pressed her body against his.

And now it was all that simple Maia could do not to cry out in fear, for as she watched, the god's bronze eyelids slowly opened, disclosing blue-irised, black-pupilled eyes which, though unmoving and lacking speculation, appeared nevertheless most startlingly alert. The figure, too, seemed to be raising itself from the hips, and as it did so the queen, stretching one arm behind the head of the couch, picked up a cushion to support its shoulders.