Elvair-ka-Virrion, his face dappled by the light shining through the tracery, again caught her eye, nodded and led her back into the corridor, closing the door silently behind them.

"You'll know him again?"

"Yes, my lord; who is he?"

"His name is Bayub-Otal: he's a natural son of the High Baron of Urtah."

"A natural son?"

"He might very well have had no standing in Urtah at

all. He might have been sent away-brought up as a peasant-and no wrong would have been done either to his mother or himself. But she was a great beauty and a much-admired and very charming woman-to say the least. The High Baron loved her passionately-more than he loved his wife, for that was nothing but a political marriage between baronial families. Bayub-Otal's mother was a Suban dancing-girl. When she died-well, never mind how she died-the High Baron was heart-broken. That's why Bayub-Otal's always been treated as though he were a legitimate son. And if it had remained under Urtan dominion, he'd have stood to inherit Suba. He'd been promised Suba: that was what his father intended for him."

This last was of little interest to Maia: but what she had actually seen was.

"That other man-he was cutting up his meat for him?"

"Bayub-Otal has a withered hand. It was-injured, when he was a boy."

As they walked back down the corridor Maia was silent. At length she asked, "What-what sort of a man is he?"

"That I can't tell you, Maia: I've had very little to do with him. They say, though, that he's full of resentment and that he's no fool."

"And I'm to deceive him?"

Elvair-ka-Virrion stopped short and turned to face her.

"Who said that? Not I!"

Half-child as she was, she gave way to a touch of impatience.

"Reckon you did!"

"I did not. Maia, understand, you're simply to make him like you, talk to you, want to see you again-nothing more than that."

"But why, my lord? I mean, what for?"

"Never mind. Trust me, it'll all turn out very much to your advantage. Now I'm going to leave you. Wait here a minute or two, then go down this staircase and Sessen-dris-you know, my father's saiyett-will be waiting for you. Go in and have supper with the Urtans. Remember, I hardly know you-I've only seen you at Sencho's. Sail your boat well, pretty Maia! I'm sure you can. Thank you for my pleasure. It was much the best I've ever had in my life! I'm not going to spoil it by giving you a lygol, but believe me I'll do far more for you than that one day."

He kissed her unhurriedly, tilting her face between his hands, smiled and was gone.

Sessendris, seated in a cushioned recess opposite the foot of the staircase, looked up at her as she came down the stairs.

"You're becoming quite a regular visitor, Maia."

"Thank you, saiyett. Come to that, I'm beginning to feel quite at home."

She'd best start acting her part directly, she thought. For all that this woman wassupposed to know, she had no reason to feel nervous. Rather, indeed, the reverse, for had she not just received a favor with which any slave-girl in Bekla would have been overjoyed?

Sessendris evidently felt this too, for she showed every intention of keeping on the right side of a girl who was so clearly on the way up.

"Is there anything you need before you go in? There's a nice, big mirror in that room over there; and you're welcome to use this comb, if you like-it's my own."

As they walked across the lobby together she went on rather archly, "Well, and which do you like best-the son or the father?"

Maia, turning her head for a moment to look her in the eye, gave her a smile which meant "You surely don't expect me to answer that?"

"No preference?" persisted Sessendris teasingly.

Maia tossed her head. "Spring's nice. So's summer, isn't it?"

The polished silver wall-plaque was, if anything, bigger than the one at the High Counselor's. She surveyed herself in it with no little satisfaction. She was wearing a dress of soft, fine wool-blue flecked green, with an open weave. The effect of the pale-green satin under-skirtwas to make the wool above it appear of a different shade, lighter and greener than the bodice. Her only jewelry was a necklace of the creamy, dusky-streaked beads of semi-precious stone called eshcarz, which the Ortelgans dived for in the Tel-thearna and traded in Bekla, together with their rope and feathers.

Sessendris obligingly held a towel for Maia to dry her hands.

"I expect you're feeling pleased, aren't you? I wouldn't be surprised if you received some more favors tonight."

"I'll need to eat something first, saiyett," answered Maia.

"I'm that sharp-set, I'd say no to Shakkarn himself until I've had some supper."

"Of course: you're used to plenty of that at the High Counselor's, I dare say." Sessendris spoke as pleasantly as ever. "I notice your black friend's putting on a little weight, isn't she?"

"Urtans seem to like her, anyway," replied Maia.

"Really?" Sessendris seemed surprised. "How do you know?"

Maia bit her lip. Here was a fine start to a career of adroit deception! And Sessendris must, of course, know of the existence of the upstairs room overlooking the hall.

"Well, Lord Elvair-ka-Virrion said to me as the Urtans had told him they'd heard of her from someone in Thettit, that's all. That's why he asked the High Counselor to let her come tonight."

To this the saiyett replied with a nod, and Maia could only hope that it had sounded convincing.

Strolling unhurriedly through the colonnade and down the steps, she helped herself to a crown of jasmine from a tray held by a slave. Several young men turned to stare at her, but Elvair-ka-Virrion, who was talking with Nen-naunir and another girl, did not give her a glance. Going across to the supper tables, she stood demurely on the carpeted dais, letting another slave make her up a plate as he thought fit. Holding this in one hand and a full goblet in the other, she glanced around her, pretended to notice Occula for the first time and went towards the table where the Urtans were sitting.

She walked slowly, for she was feeling rather nervous and wanted to begin by observing the Urtans at closer quarters and if possible weighing them up a little. She noticed at once that of the five, the two older men-Eud-Ecachlon and the dark, detached Bayub-Otal-were obviously of higher rank. Not only were their clothes finer, but there was about them an unmistakable air of accustomed authority, of which the three others were clearly sensible even in the midst of their merriment and high spirits.

Eud-Ecachlon, a man already, to Maia's eyes, middle-aged, was of medium height, rather thick-set, with touches of gray in his hair and beard. Something in his rather slow movements and the steady gaze with which he sat listening to one of the younger men suggested to her someone of

stolid dependability-even, it might be, a shade slow; not a quick mind or a natural leader. Without giving the impression of being a fool or not up to his position, he nevertheless had the air of a conventional, perhaps rather uninteresting person, content with and even preferring things as he had always been used to them.

Still, never mind 'bout him, she thought as she drew nearer to the table. It's t'other as matters to me.

Bayub-Otal had also turned towards the young man who was speaking. The sight of him at closer quarters confirmed the notion she had already formed. This was a keener, tenser, more restless character altogether; and also, in some way or other, a man apart. There was, or so she vaguely sensed, something in him awry; a kind of estrangement from natural, spontaneous life, as though if he were to laugh it might be because he thought it appropriate to do so rather than because he could not help it. A kind of invisible veil or screen seemed to lie between himself and his companions. Energetic and clever he certainly looked, yet somehow clouded with-with what? She could not tell, yet her spirits faltered. She knew nothing, she felt, about such men as this. Was he really at all likely to fancy her? She rather doubted it. If he did not, she had no idea of how to go about inclining him to do so.