"Well, here we are," said the black girl, as they drew up in front of "The Green Parrot." "Kantza-Merada, what a dump! Best you can hope for here, I s'pose. Still, at least we've got a set of private rooms; and you'll get a damn' good supper, banzi, I can promise you that; and a nice drop of Yeldashay. We brought some along with us, just to be on the safe side."
104: AN ACCOUNT SETTLED
Perhaps it was not altogether surprising that Occula had put on weight, thought Maia, herself feeling rather like Sencho as she leaned back against the cushions. During the past two years she had forgotten about suppers like this. The Yeldashay had gone to her head, too, for she was no longer used to it. She felt splendid. They had eaten and drunk and chattered their heads off. At length Occula had dismissed the servants and Maia had recounted all her adventures from the night when her friend had come to her house in Bekla to warn her to get out of the city.
Zen-Otal was fast asleep on another pile of cushions in the corner of the room. Occula had admired him-her unparalleled boy-with polite praise, but was plainly not all that much enraptured. However, Maia had not really
expected that she would be. She realized, now, that motherhood was one of the gods' great tidings to which Occula was simply deaf, and likely to remain so; just as, she remembered, good old Brero, who would never have dreamed of causing her a moment's vexation, had once remarked, "I can tell you all about music, saiyett, in one word: no good." There was no earthly point in letting things like this annoy you: you might as well expect a cat to eat hay. Yet she could remember the time when for her Occula had possessed the wisdom and infallibility of a demi-god-dess. What a shame, she thought, that while Occula had been able to teach her so much, she herself would never be able to communicate to her the first thing about motherhood! She wasn't fool enough to start trying, either. And Occula, she felt sure, must even now be entertaining feelings not unlike her own-what a pity to see her banzi, the one-time Serrelinda, fallen a victim, like all the rest, to the absurd slavery of marriage and maternity!
"I didn' tell you, banzi, did I," said Occula, refilling her goblet and putting her feet up on the supper-table, "that I've got Ogma in my household-have had for over a year? I know she'd want to be remembered to you. I'll give her your love when I get back, shall I?"
"Oh, yes, do! Poor old Ogma-clump! clump! Well, I'll bet she's as happy with you as it's possible for her to be anywhere."
"Of course, I've got more sense than to do what you did, banzi-put her in charge of the place. Nearly cost you your life, didn't it?"
"I suppose you've got some marvelous, charming saiyett, have you?" Maia felt much too replete and happy to take offense.
"Well, yes, I have; but Zuno's the one actually in charge. He'd never dream of leaving me. Well, you never know, of course, but I shouldn' think he would."
"Then Fornis-Fornis didn't take him with her?"
Occula looked up quickly. "Where d'you mean-where to?"
"Wherever she's gone."
For several seconds Occula made no reply. Then, putting her feet down again, she said very quietly and directly, "Banzi, you'd better tell me-how much do you know about-about where Fornis went?"
Maia frowned at her, puzzled. "Well, nothing, I reckon.
We're a bit out of the way here, see. Only old Nasada, that's my doctor from Suba-"
"Yes, I've heard a good deal about Nasada. What did he tell you?"
"Well, he said no one in Suba knew what had become of Fornis; and then he said it seemed strange."
"I'm surprised he hasn' guessed-a man as knowledgeable as that. P'raps he has." She fell silent again, twisting a great gold ring on her finger and apparently deliberating with herself.
"Banzi," she said, looking up suddenly, "if I tell you- everythin'-will you swear by Frella-Tiltheh never to breathe a word-even to your wonderful Katrian husband?"
"Well, of course, dearest, if you ask. But-"
"It's not because I'm afraid of-of anythin' that could come to me from-from livin' men. It's because some things are-well, simply not to be told. But I doan' believe Kantza-Merada would want me not to tell you: not after Tharrin, and not after all we've been through together. When you've heard me out you'll understand. Go on, banzi-swear by Frella-Tiltheh."
"I swear by Frella-Tiltheh the Inscrutable, and by the divine tamarrik seed, never to repeat to anyone what you're going to tell me."
"Good! Listen, then. And you'd better have some more of this Yeldashay, banzi, 'cos you're goin' to need it!"
She refilled Maia's goblet and her own, drank deeply, and began.
"The night you left Bekla, there was fightin' all over the city; the Lapanese, and Fornis's Palteshis. Remember?"
Maia nodded.
"It went on all that night and into the next day. But what finished it was when the Lapanese finally got it through their heads that Randronoth was dead. The news took hours to get round, you see: the fightin' was so confused, all over the place. But once his officers knew for a fact that Fornis and Han-Glat had murdered him, they lost heart. Two of his captains-young Seekron and another man called Mendel-el-Ekna-"
"Ah, he was the one as got us out that night!" said Maia.
"Was he? I'm not surprised: everyone spoke well of him in that business. Well, they got together what was left of the Lapanese and took them back south again. Still, never
mind that for now. I'll come back to that: what I want to tell you about is my part.
"So Form's had the city, and no one to dispute it except Eud-Ecachlon. He was supposed to be holdin' it for Kem-bri, but he was shit-scared, and I doan' blame him, because he hadn' enough men to hope to beat Forms. Those he had he took and shut himself up in the citadel.
"So there was Fornis-and Zuno and Ashaktis and me along with her, of course-in the Barons' Palace, givin' out that she'd restored the rightful dominion of the Sacred Queen in accordance with the will of the gods. And what she meant to do about Kembri and Santil-ke-Erketlis I never knew. Perhaps she didn', either; 'cos matters were taken out of her hands. Andwhod'youthinkdidthat.banzi?"
"You?"
"No; you."
"Mel Occula, whatever d'you mean?"
"I'll tell you. You remember we were talkin' just now about N'Kasit, the leather dealer I sent you to, in the big warehouse? He was one of the best agents the heldril had, you know. He was a heldro agent for five years and no one ever suspected him-not even Sencho. He had a few narrow squeaks after Sencho was killed, though. They searched his warehouse more than once."
"I'm not surprised he wasn't suspected," said Maia. "I remember Zirek calling him a cold fish and that's how he struck me, too: what you'd call imperturbable, like."
"Well, there was another side to him, I can assure you, banzi," said Occula, "as you're about to hear, It must have been next day-yes, it was the next day-after the La-panese had left Bekla, that Fornis sent Ashaktis to tell the chief priest she was comin' down to the temple. I knew what that meant: she was goin' to set about frightenin' him into supportin' her for a third reign as Sacred Queen. I believe she'd have done it, too-she could do anythin', that woman-only it never got that far, you see.
"She set out from the Barons' Palace about an hour later, and she told me and Zuno to attend her. She'd helped herself to your golden jekzha, banzi, and I can tell you it didn' half make me grind my bastin' teeth, comin' along behind, to see her sittin' up in that. Still, it proved a mistake, as you'll hear.
"Soon as we got down to the bottom of the Street of the Armourers, we could see there was somethin' goin' on