"Ogma, will you tell Jarvil, please, to ask for my soldiers to come this afternoon, as soon as it begins to get cool? I'm going to the temple to see the chief priest, tell them."
Maia took this committal decision as unreflectingly as she had plunged into the Valderra. It was like mucking out the cows: the thing had got to be done and that was all there was to it. The thought that she could still desist, and the implication of what she was going to do-these notions crossed her mind only momentarily, to be brushed aside. How closely Fornis might be in the chief priest's confidence was something that it hardly occurred to her to consider, just as on the river bank she had given herself no time to think.
Having arrived at the temple precinct and been deferentially handed down from her jekzha by Brero, one of her soldiers, she climbed the broad steps to the portico watched by a small crowd, some of whom had followed her from the Caravan Market. The Tamarrik water-clock was just upon four hours after noon and even as she alighted, the purple-lacquered kynat released its silver ball to roll down the spiral and be caught in his cup by the divine child. Once she would have stopped to watch. Nowadays her public status required an air of more detachment and composure. Without turning her head, she passed between the two center columns and, as the acolyte seated at the bronze doors rose and bowed, gave him her most gracious smile (he was no eunuch, she sensed) and asked to see the chief priest.
Nothing could have been more courteous than her reception. A senior priest escorted her up a staircase to a pleasant, cool room on the south side of the temple, sent a slave for serrardoes, thrilsa and Yeldashay, and sat down to converse with her until the chief priest should appear. Maia, who not unnaturally felt herself to have gained a good deal in poise and self-confidence since the days of Sencho, replied to him with what she hoped was restraint and assurance about her own health, the water-ways of Suba, the iniquities of the Chalcon rebels and the certainty of their early defeat by Elvair-ka-Virrion. At length the bead curtains at the doorway clashed lightly (reminding her on the instant of Terebinthia: she nearly found herself springing to her feet) and the chief priest entered, followed by an attendant, who remained standing by the door. The other priest bowed and left them.
Apart from Durakkon, this was Maia's first encounter, since her return, with any leading representative of the Leopard regime. There was no least trace of hostility, but nevertheless she began almost at once to sense that certain atmosphere of which Nennaunir had warned her. Last year she had been just a little girl for the basting, no one's enemy, a nobody whom there was no reason to harm. Now, the chief priest-who had last seen her trembling, dishevelled and filthy from days of imprisonment-was plainly wondering, behind his careful air of being honored by a visit from the city's beautiful heroine, what she wanted from nim and what her real purpose might be. Quite early on in the conversation he contrived to stress the salutary and beneficial detachment of the temple from imperial politics and the value to the city of a priestly order of integrity which served Cran first and the secular rulers second. Maia could not help wondering whether, if he really supposed that she had wanted to sound out his view about herself as a possible successor to the Sacred Queen, she would have been quite such a fool as to come and do it face-to-face in a formal interview of this kind.
"My Guardian," she said, using the correct and formal style of address to the chief priest by ordinary citizens, "it's only a small matter I've come to ask you about. You'll no doubt remember the black girl, Occula, who was brought here the day before I came myself to be-er-prepared for my journey to Suba. You know, I expect, that she and I were close friends: we were in the High Counselor's household together. Now that I've recovered my health, naturally I want to take up with my friends again. May I ask you whether Occula's still here in the temple, and if not, where she is?"
"Well," he replied slowly. "Well-what do you think yourself-don't you think-while these difficult times last- that's something of a matter-isn't it-which ought to remain, perhaps, between the temple and the Lord General? As you know, the girl-your companion, you tell me- was involved in the murder of the High Counselor, wasn't she?"
"It's not for me to contradict you, my Guardian, but I reckon otherwise. In any case, I beg you to take pity on my anxiety about a dear friend to whom I owe more 'n what I can say. At least please tell me whether you positively know her to be dead-that is, whether she died here
in the temple during the time I was gone from the city."
He made no reply, only looking down at the table, patting it with his fingers in a gentle rhythm.
"If she is dead, my Guardian, surely it can do no possible harm to tell me? It seems-well, a small thing to ask, like."
He evidently thought so, too. She could discern in him a certain feeling of anti-climax. This public idol and acclaimed beauty, this new, unassessed and still uncommitted personality in the upper city's endless currents of power-maneuver, had sought him out for a talk. Yet now it transpired that apparently all she wanted to know was the whereabouts of a black concubine.
For an instant she saw him almost imperceptibly shake his head in perplexity. Then he looked up, smiling.
"If I positively knew her to be dead, Serrelinda, I would tell you as much: I hope that helps you."
"Then she is not?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you any more."
"Where is she? Is she-?" But here she checked herself. She dared not even imply that she knew about Fornis.
He smiled again and spread his hands, as though embarrassed by a question that she should really have known better than to ask.
She covered her lapse, speaking of other things, and a few minutes later thanked him and took her leave, the chief priest courteously wishing her all prosperity and summoning yet another priest to escort her from the temple.
"One more-oh, very trifling thing, my Guardian," she said.
He turned at the door.
"There is a young man here, serving a sentence. His name is Sednil. He used to be a friend of someone-well, of someone I know."
He smiled patiently. "I believe-I can't really be certain-that we have three or four men here-of that kind. My officer of the household would know, of course, and I'm sure he'd be very ready to talk with you. It would- er-be most pleasant for him, I'm sure."
He was gone, leaving her, thus put out of countenance, to cover her embarrassment by conversing with the priest. They returned along the corridors and down the staircase.
Arrived in the principal interior court below, where numerous suppliants, priests and servants were coming and going about their business, she had just contrived some
remark about the swallows flitting in and out under the cornice when suddenly she caught sight of Sednil emerging-in a furtive manner, or so it seemed-from a doorway opposite. He was stooping under a great pannier strapped to his back, which appeared to be full of masons' rubble or something of the sort. It was, in fact, a few moments before she recognized him, but in those moments he had nevertheless already attracted her attention by reason of being easily the dirtiest and most wretched-looking person in the whole court. Indeed, it was rather startling to come upon such an object even casually present in a beautiful and imposing place designed and used expressly to confer credit on the city.
Maia, inclining graciously towards the priest as an indication of thanks and farewell, walked swiftly across the court and touched Sednil on the shoulder. Starting and jerking up his head, he plainly did not remember her for a moment. Then, uncertainly, and plainly not in the least knowing what he might have to expect, he said, "Maia! Well-of course I'd heard-" but on the instant broke off, turning away. She had the impression that if it had not been for the heavy basket he would have shrugged his shoulders.