105: MAIA ANSWERS A QUESTION

"Go on," said Maia, as her friend fell silent. Occula's tale had affected her so deeply that she felt almost as though she herself had been carried into that other world of terror, and now also needed help to recover diurnal reality and mundane things. She wanted-she longed desperately- to hear and chat about living people and their affairs and fortunes. And Occula must need that, too. "Tell me about Bekla. Tell me everything that's happened since I left with Zenka and Anda-Nokomis."

Occula caressed and kissed her, smiling. Her happiness at being once more in Maia's company-at being able actually to see and touch her-was evident enough.

"Homesick, eh?" To all appearances she had resumed her old self, her terrible story cast aside like a black cloak from a brightly-colored robe. But certainly Maia-who if not she?-could sense that this was partly acting; never-

theless it was acting which, given the right response, would soon become reality.

"P'raps. Little bit. Go on, Occula!"

"Well, what shall I tell you?" said the black girl, reaching across for the Yeldashay. "When we got back we found a whole lot had happened. To begin with, Santil had taken Bekla-that was just after the rains began-and Kembri was dead. The way it all came about was like this. Elleroth was forcin' his way up through Purn, and he'd been joined by the Ortelgans-oh, yes, well, of course you know that: I ought to say you did that, oughtn' I? Apparently they only jus' managed to cut through Purn before the rains. What Elleroth wanted was to seize the bridge over the Zhairgen-the road to Ikat-if he could, and cut Kembri off from Bekla. Well, apart from the rains, which put a lot of his men down with fever-"

"Ah!" said Maia. "A few hours of it was enough for me. I was took real bad."

"I'm not surprised. Well, seems Elleroth and Ta-Kom-inion only had about four hundred men between them by the time they actually got to the road. But then they were joined by young Seekron and Mendel-el-Ekna, who were tryin' to get Randronoth's lads back to Lapan after failin' to take Bekla. And that lot, all together, were too much for the men Kembri had left at the bridge. They surrendered to Elleroth.

"Santil had marched north out of Ikat with the idea of attackin' Kembri in Lapan. When he started, he didn' feel there was really much hope of beatin' Kembri and gettin' to Bekla before the rains-he's told me as much himself, actually. Still, he thought he ought at least to try and attack the Chalcon army again as soon as possible, and not just sit around doin' nothin' while Kembri pulled them together. But what actually happened was that with Santil in front of them and Elleroth and the Lapanese behind, they mutinied. There was a commander called Kapparah." Occula grinned. "I've been to bed with him, actually. A real, hardened campaigner if ever there was one."

"I remember Shenda talking about him," said Maia. "He was the one as did so well in the battle on the road, wasn't he?"

"That's the fellow. Well, he led the mutiny. He said that with half a dozen different factions fightin' all over the empire and the whole place in chaos we'd have King Kar-

nat down on us any day-obviously he must know very well what was goin' on-and the time had come to put a stop to it. They killed Kembri, of course; cut him down outside his own tent and sent his head to Santil. I can' honestly say I felt sorry.

"So then Santil joined them and took over the command, and they marched fifty miles to Bekla in the rains- leastways, the ones who got there did. Elleroth wasn' with them, though. Seems he'd got badly cut up in a skirmish. One of his officers, a man called Mollo, saved his life and took him home to Sarkid. D'you know, I've never met Elleroth to this day? I often wish I had. I fancy the sound of him. He's quite a lad, by all accounts."

"Ah, he is that," said Maia. "I liked him very much. I don't think he'd be one to bounce you, though, somehow."

"Oh, no?" said Occula. "Want to bet? He might get the chance yet, you never know. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, Santil takin' Bekla. Well, there were plenty of high-up people in the upper city who managed to change sides quite successfully. Santil's a merciful man, you know. In fact, I'd say a very merciful man indeed, as I'll tell you in a minute. But the real genius behind the side-changin' lark was Shenda. It made his fortune-and mine too, I s'pose, really. For that's how I come to be here now, my dear, drinkin' this bowl of Yeldashay."

"Shenda?" said Maia. "But you were saying just now as Han-Glat was holding Bekla, after he'd got rid of Fomis."

"Yes, well, but this was where Shenda came in. You remember, of course, that Shenda was wounded and stayed in Bekla after he'd come back with Elvair. I told you how he came up from the temple that night to give Fornis the chief priest's message. I've often thought it's wonderful how the most unexpected people sometimes rise to an occasion-especially when somethin' has to be done and there's no one else to do it. Those last few days before the rains, that boy really got busy. You could say he revealed a real flair for diplomacy. Well, but he's a likable lad, isn' he? He talks straight and plain, he always seems cheerful and he's got a knack of makin' people think he's not as clever as they are but all the same he's honest; so they find themselves supposin' they've thought up all by themselves what he wanted them to think but never said in so many words. I've seen him do it again and again now.

"Anyway, Shenda told Han-Glat that he wanted to go

up to the citadel to see his father (his father was the castellan, you remember), and Han-Glat said all right. So off goes Shenda like a dutiful son, but when he got there he talked to Eud-Ecachlon. He told him straight out that he thought tryin' to hold the place for Kembri had become a hopeless business. Shenda said why didn' he surrender to Han-Glat and accept a safe-conduct to go home to Ken-dron-Urtah and succeed his father as High Baron, which was what the gods had always meant him to do?

"Well, poor old Eud-Ecachlon never was very bright, was he? I reckon he could have asked fifty thousand meld for handin' over that citadel to Han-Glat. I would have. I mean, it's quite impregnable, it was victualled for about a year and he could have held it against Santil and Han-Glat put together if he'd wanted. But anyway, he didn'. Probably he just wanted to get back home as soon as he could. Shenda got him to agree to come and talk to Han-Glat.

"Well, so then Shenda goes back to Han-Glat, if you please, and they talked for hours. Shenda pointed out that Sendekar was comin' from one direction and Santil from another and surely the best thing Han-Glat could do was to drive a bargain while he still had time-I mean, while he still had Bekla to bargain with. Han-Glat could see the sense of that all right. Apart from anythin' else, he had himself to bargain with, you see. Han-Glat's an engineerin' genius: there's no one to touch him in the whole empire. Bridges, roads, fortifications-you let him alone for those. That fortress at Dari-it's a bastin' miracle! I saw it for the first time a week ago. Any commander who passed up the chance of gettin' Han-Glat as an officer of works would be crazy.

"So the long and short of it was that Shenda made Han-Glat think that he himself had decided which side his bread was buttered; and he sent out envoys to Sendekar and Santil and said he'd hand over the city and the citadel in return for a high command for himself and no revenge or executions against the remainin' Leopards. Well, they both accepted that quick enough. I mean, the alternative was for Han-Glat to sit comfortably in Bekla through the rains, while they didn'. He's Santil's director of fortifications now: rich and powerful, and everybody's happy.