Efraim had been acquainted with Maerio for years, under the formal circumstances imposed upon all visits between kaiarkal households. At first he considered her frivolous and eccentric. She lacked all erudition, she was clumsy with the vials, and she seemed always to be restraining herself from some reckless spontaneity, which caused Singhalissa's eyebrows to twitch and Sthelany to look away in ostensible boredom. These very factors induced Efraim to cultivate Maerio. Gradually he noticed that her company was extraordinarily stimulating, and that she was remarkably pleasant to look at. Forbidden thoughts wandered into his mind; he ejected them from loyalty to Maerio, who would be shocked and horrified!
The Kaiark Rianlle, Kraike Dervas, and Maerio flew over the mountains to Benbuphar Strang; on the morrow all would journey to Port Mar. Rianlle, Jochaim, Efraim; and Destian gathered in the Grand Parlor for an informal talk; bobbing their heads behind etiquette screens they discreetly took small cups of arrack.
Rianlle was at his best. Always a remarkable speaker, on this occasion his conversation was brilliant. Like Singhalissa, Rianlle was most erudite; he knew the Fwai-chi signals and all the trails of their "Path through Life"; he knew the Pantechnic Metaphysic; he had collected and studied the insects of Eccord, and had indited three monographs upon the subject. Additionally Rianlle was a notable warrior, with remarkable exploits to his credit. Efraim listened to him with fascination. Rianlle was discussing Dwan Jar, the Whispering Ridge. "It has occurred to me," he told Jochaim, "that here is a site of sublime beauty. One of us should make use of it. Be generous, Jochaim; let me build myself a summer garden with a pavilion on the Dwan Jar. Think how I would rest and muse to the wild whispering sound!"
Jochaim had smiled. "Impossible! Have you no sense of fitness? My eiodarks would drive me forth for a madman if I agreed to your proposal. Additionally, I am bound by a covenant with the Fwai-chi. Certainly you are making a joke."
"No joke whatever. Truly I covet that bit, that trifle, that insignificant wisp of land!"
Jochaim shook his head. "When I am dead, I can no longer oppose; Efraim must then assume that responsibility. While I live, I must deny you your fancy."
Rianlle said: "It would seem that by the process of dying, you withdraw your opposition. I would not have you dead on that account, however. Let us talk along easier subjects..."
The group had flown into Port Mar, and as usual taken accommodation at the Royal Rhune Hotel, where the management knew and respected their customs...
Efraim raised his head from his hands and looked wildly around the table. Taut faces everywhere; eyes fixed upon him; silence: He closed his eyes.
Recollections came soft and slow now, but with a wonderful luminous clarity. He felt himself leaving the hotel in company with Destian, Sthelany, and Maerio for a stroll through Port Mar, and perhaps a visit to the Fairy Gardens, where Galligade's Puppets provided entertainment.
They walked down the Street of Brass Boxes and across the bridge into New Town.
For a few minutes they strolled along the Estrada, peering into the beer gardens where the folk of Port Mar and students from the college drank beer and devoured food in full view of everyone.
Efraim at last asked direction from a young man emerging from a book shop.
Seeing the party to be Rhunes, he volunteered serving as their escort to the Fairy Gardens. To everyone's disappointment the entertainment was at an end.
Their guide introduced himself as Matho Lorcas and insisted upon ordering a bottle of wine, along with suitable etiquette screens. Sthelany raised her eyebrows in a fashion reminiscent of Singhalissa and turned away. Efraim, catching Maerio's eye, sipped the wine, protected by the propriety of the screen. Maerio, greatly daring, did likewise.
Matho Lorcas seemed a person of buoyant disposition and irrepressible wit; he refused to allow either Sthelany or Destian to sulk. "And how are you enjoying your visit?" he asked.
"Very much," said Maerio. "But surely there is more excitement than this? We always think of Port Mar as a place of wild abandon."
"Not quite accurate. Of course this is the respectable part of town. Doesn't it seem so to you?"
"Our customs are rather different," said Destian frostily.
"So I understand, but here you are in Port Mar; why not attempt the Port Mar customs?"
"That logic does not quite follow," murmured Sthelany.
Lorcas laughed. "Of course not! I wondered if you'd agree. Still - don't you have any inclination to live - well, let us say, normal lives?"
Efraim asked: "You think we don't live normal lives?"
"Not from my point of view. You're smothered in convention. You're walking bundles of neuroses."
"Peculiar," said Maerio, "I feel quite well."
"I feel well," said Efraim. "You must be mistaken."
"Aha! Well, possibly. I'd like to visit one of the Realms and see how things go for myself. Do you like the wine? Perhaps you'd prefer punch."
Destian looked around the table. "I think we'd better return to the hotel.
Haven't we seen enough of New Town?"
"Go, if you like," said Efraim. "I'm in no hurry."
"I'll wait with Efraim," said Maerio.
Matho Lorcas spoke to Sthelany. "I hope you'll wait too. Will you not?"
"Why?"
"I want to explain something which I believe you want to hear."
Sthelany languidly rose to her feet and without a word moved off. Destian, with a dubious look back at Efraim and Maerio, followed.
"A pity," said Lorcas. "I found her extremely attractive."
"Sthelany and Destian are both most stately," said Maerio.
Lorcas asked with a sly smile, "And what of you? Aren't you stately too?"
"When ceremony makes demands on me. Sometimes I find Rhune ways rather tiresome.
If Efraim weren't here I'd try that punch. I'm not ashamed of my inner workings."
Efraim laughed. "Very well. If you will, I will too. But wait until Destian and Sthelany are out of sight."
Matho Lorcas ordered rum punch for all. Efraim and Maerio drank first behind the screens, then spluttering with embarrassed laughter, brought the goblets into the open and drank.
"Bravo!" declared Lorcas soberly. "You have taken a long step on the road to emancipation."
"It doesn't amount to all that much," said Efraim, "I'll buy another round.
Lorcas, what about you?"
"With pleasure. Still, it wouldn't do for the two of you to stagger into the hotel drunk, would it?"
Maerio clasped her head. "My father would turn purple. Of all the folk alive he is the most rigid."
"My father would simply look the other way," said Efraim. "He seems rigid, and of course he is, but essentially he is quite reasonable."
"So, you two are not related?"
"Not at all."
"But you're fond of each other?"
Efraim and Maerio looked sidewise at each other. Efraim laughed uncomfortably.
"I won't deny it." He looked again at Maerio, whose face was twisting. "Have I offended you?"
"No."
"Then why do you look so doleful?"
"Because we must come to Port Mar to tell each other such things."