Who will take it upbn themselves to condemn what followed as lewd or unnatural? The Shilluk of the White Nile, perhaps, whose custom it once was to wall up their king, together with a nubile virgin, to die in the dark of hunger and thirst? The ancient Carthaginians, who sacrificed children by fire to a calf-headed image, playing music the while to drown their screams? The inhabitants of Quilacare in southern India, where every twelve years the king, standing on a high scaffolding, would cut off his nose, ears, lips and genitals, scattering them among the people before cutting his own throat? Or the Christian peasants who on St Stephen's Day hunted down wrens along the hedges? The celebrant who to one is clearly nothing but a capering, mud-smeared charlatan of a witch-doctor, to another is a dread figure of power, expert by long study in dangerous

communion with ghosts and gods. What to an alien is indecency, to the devout and instructed is a symbolic enactment of the magnanimity of the immortals, by whose mercy men live and in whose grace they hope to die.

Before the eyes of the rulers and dignitaries of Bekla, Fornis lay beside the god, kissing and stroking him like any lass with her mortal lover. She fondled his shoulders, his smooth-plated belly and gleaming thighs. Then, laughing with mischief and half-pretending shame, as girls will in play, she performed for him such other things as are done by lovers in the mounting excitement of desire. So realistically did she enact her part that Maia, utterly absorbed, felt her own loins moisten and her breath come short.

As she gently caressed and drew apart the overlapping bronze scales so cunningly fashioned by Fleitil, the god's zard lengthened and grew rigid in his lady's hand, at its full extent locking with a minute click, inaudible to the watchers but to the queen the signal that she needed to hear. Thereupon, mounting her lover and drawing his jointed arms about her shoulders, she sank down astride him, crying out ecstatically and displaying to her worshippers, in the plunging of her thighs, all that they needed, for their spiritual renewal and fulfillment, to behold: and in what ensued she displayed the most skillful artistry, for not only did the great crown remain in place round her glowing hair, but never once did she lose the sacred thing which she had received.

Maia, hardly aware of what she did, turned and pressed herself against Sednil, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and at the same time pushing him back into the shadows. An hour ago it had briefly occurred to her to wonder why Nennaunir should have been at the trouble of seeking out this lad and asking him to run the risk of taking them into the temple. She knew now all right, no danger. Whatever it was that he might have done, Nennaunir evidently felt she owed him a good turn; and at this moment Maia felt no least objection to performing it for her.

"Sednil! Oh, Sednil-"

"Well, that makes things a lot easier, banzi," remarked Occula composedly. "I knew it was goin' to be one of us, but I'm not really in the mood, myself. You could charge him double if you like-he's got nothin'."

"Not here, not here," muttered Sednil. "Your dothes'd

get dirty and it'd show. There's a room along the gallery. But we'll have to be quick! We haven't got long."

Coming out into the yard, Occula and Maia made their own way back to the precinct, where Durakkon and some of the other nobles, in accordance with custom, were tossing handfuls of small coins among the crowd. After the girls had stood waiting for a considerable time in the blazing sun, the tryzatt of the litter-bearers came out to summon them back to the rear of the temple. Sencho, who had decided that it was not necessary for him to appear a second time in the hot, crowded precinct, had been lying down in the chief priest's private apartments. Here, having deigned to spend three-quarters of an hour over a light meal, he was ready for the girls to help him to his litter.

The return to the Peacock Gate was arduous for the soldiers who, partly through heat and the weight of their burden and partly on account of the crowds, were several times forced to put the litter down. While the High Counselor had been taking his ease in the temple, the sentinels lining the roads had been dismissed, and again and again it was necessary for the tryzatt to go ahead to clear the way. Sencho, however, drowsing in the cushions, showed no particular impatience, merely telling Occula to close the curtains and leave him undisturbed; and the good-natured tryzatt, emboldened by the High Counselor's lethargy to act on his own initiative, lent Maia his cloak, remarking tactfully that it would keep off the dust. Maia was glad to cover herself, having already attracted more than enough unwanted attention while crossing the Caravan Market.

"Nice bastin', banzi?" asked Occula as they plodded uphill in the wake of the litter. Her sarcasm was no more than teasing, but Maia, sweating and uncomfortable, was quick to resent it.

"Yes, it was!" she replied sharply. "And you needn't be so damned spiteful, either. I was sorry for the poor boy, that's what. He's a prisoner in that place, isn't he? He was desperate for it."

"He wasn' the only one," said Occula. "Cran! you were like a damn' cat on a roof-just with watchin' that cruel, wicked woman, that's what."

Maia was about to retort when something in Occula's

voice checked her. Turning her head, she saw that the black girl was on the verge of weeping. She took her hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry, dear. I don't wonder it upset you. You hate her, don't you?"

"Of course I hate her!" cried Occula. "Didn' she murder my father-"

"Hush, love, hush! Someone'll hear-"

"And you mark my words, banzi, one day I'll-"

As the black girl bit on her fingers, Maia could see the tears falling on the back of her hand.

"Seven years! Seven years, and Zai's spirit-"

"Try not to take on, dear! You're not yourself-it's the sun and all the standing about. Anyhow, thank goodness here's the gate, and about time, too. Oh, I shall be glad to go in the pool when we get back, won't you? I hope he'll let us have a bit of a rest, seeing as we've got to go to that Barb party tonight. I wonder whether- O great Cran! Occula! Look! That's Meris over there! Meris! And the pedlar man-what's he called? Zirek. Look! going through the gate now!"

"Strikes me you're the one's been in the sun, banzi. How the hell can it be Meris when you know perfectly well she's been sold into the back of beyond?"

"But I tell you it was Meris, Occula! They've gone now, but-"

"Banzi," said Occula, gripping her wrist and turning upon her with a look of desperation, "shut up! Doan' ask me why-just shut up! Tell me about your lake in Tonilda, go on! Tell me about Tharrin-tell me about any damn' tiling you like!"

Maia, frowning with vexation, made no reply, and together with two or three other groups of nobles and attendant slaves they passed on under the arch into the upper city.

"Banzi," said Occula presently.

Maia went on humming the wine anthem without replying.

"Banzi."

"Well?" Maia felt tired and sulky. "Got yourself into a better temper?"

"There's somethin' else I've just thought of, and it's very, very important. Piggy may sleep this afternoon- probably will, I dare say. But if he sends for you, doan'

let him have anythin', d'you see? Tell him it's the wrong time of the month, tell him you've broken your wrist, hurt your mouth-tell him anythin' you like. But whatever you do, doan' let him have anythin'! You can get away with it. He'll take it from you."

"But why, Occula?"

"Never mind. Just do as I say. Anyway, p'raps you woan' have to."

In the event this last proved correct, Sencho, carried to the small hall, told Terebinthia that he would sleep until sunset, when he was to be awakened for the supper party. He confirmed that Maia and Occula were to accompany him. The following day he wished to see Lalloc about buying a girl to replace Dyphna.