A minute later they stopped, knee-deep in stiller water, swamp-grass high all round them, trees overhead forming a cave from which they looked back at the turbulent river and the watch-fires burning on the other bank. Men were bending over the dead and a voice was shouting angrily.

Pillan appeared out of the swamp behind them. Lenkrit turned to him.

"Tescon?"

Pillan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Leg's hurt, though."

"Badly?"

"Can't say."

His own forearm was gashed and bleeding. His head hung forward, gaping, grinning for air: a froth of saliva covered his chin. And now before Maia's eyes his bearded face, in the gloom, seemed floating bodiless. Ah! and she was floating too-surrounded-dear Cran! by men tall as trees, their lips moving, speaking without sound, all swirling, spiraling together in a slow vortex.

The next moment she had pitched forward in a faint. Pillan and Lenkrit, grabbing, were just in time to catch her.

Followed by Bayub-Otal and the limping Tescon, they carried her along the muddy track through the swamp, laying her down on the first dry ground they came to. It was almost morning, and in the gray light they could make out, not far off, a group of Suban huts raised on stilts above the mud. Two or three of the villagers had already seen them and were approaching.

Coming to herself, Maia's first sensation was of a humid, fenny odor of mud and old leaves, and a damp air so heavy as to seem hard to breathe. She could feel soft ground beneath her, warm and molded by the pressure of her body; and then the throbbing of her wounded shin. It must be daylight now, for there was red behind her closed eyelids. Recalling the crossing, she realized that they must have carried her out of the river: so now she was on the

other side of the Valderra-in Suba. This knowledge came flooding into her like icy water, bringing with it a sense less of danger than of being utterly adrift, beyond all possible benefit of past experience or common sense. Had Kembri envisaged that she might be taken into Suba? Probably he had supposed that if Bayub-Otal had any intention of crossing the Valderra, he would find it impossible because of the watch on the fords.

Not even at Puhra, when Occula had revealed to her that she had been sold into slavery, had she felt so helpless to envisage how she stood or what was likely to befall her. What sort of a place was this? Would the Subans be friendly, or would she be entirely dependent on the protection of Bayub-Otal? This King Kamat-the arch-enemy of Bekla- was she likely to cross his path?

She knew the answers to none of these questions. The prospect of opening her eyes-of showing that she had regained consciousness and thereby returning once more to all the stress and anxiety of the past few days-frightened her. As long as she remained unmoving, with closed eyes, she had a respite. She lay still; but listened intently.

Some sort of movement was going on near-by. A shadow fell across her eyelids. Then it seemed that two people were kneeling-or sitting, or crouching-beside her. Someone felt her pulse; she was careful to keep her wrist limp and let it drop when it was released. A voice she did not know, but could now recognize as Suban, said, "And how did she come by that burn on her shoulder, Anda-Nokomis?"

Bayub-Otal's voice replied, "Oh, in Bekla, too. That's what their priests call questioning."

"I don't think she's in any danger," said the first voice. "Pulse is steady-breathing's easy-no recent injuries except the shin there. Fine-looking girl, isn't she? And the resemblance-as you say, it's amazing. How was she on the journey?"

"Like a falcon," replied Bayub-Otal. "She never complained, either."

"You say you lost poor young Thel in the river?"

"I'm afraid so."

There was a pause.

"Well, you'd better put her to bed, Anda-Nokomis: I think she's nothing more than tired out; certain amount of fear and strain, too, I suppose."

"She can't have been free from fear for days," said Bayub-Otal.

"But she didn't say so?"

"No."

The voice uttered a sympathetic murmur. "Don't worry, Anda-Nokomis; I'd expect her to recover by tomorrow."

This exchange made Maia feel a good deal less apprehensive. The voice, which was slow, deliberate and rather deep, sounded like that of quite an old man. Obviously he was friendly towards both herself and Bayub-Otal: and she was not going to be made to get up and go on; or not just yet, anyway. To go to bed and stay there-that was more than enough for the moment. Sooner or later she would have to let them see she was conscious, so it might as well be now.

She moaned slightly, drew a couple of deep, sighing breaths, opened her eyes and looked round her. She was lying near the edge of a long, more-or-less triangular patch of rough grass, bordered on either side by dense trees. The point of the triangle was behind her, to her right, and here a track came out from among the trees, leading on past her to a cluster of stilted huts about a hundred yards off. Near these stood a little crowd of dirty, rough-looking people-men, women and children-all staring in her direction. They did not seem to be talking much and were showing no particular excitement. In fact, she thought, they rather resembled cattle in a field gazing at a stranger.

Lenkrit and Pillan were standing a few yards away, together with two or three other men-obvious Subans; short, swarthy and broad-featured-all bare-footed and dressed in the same sort of garment; rough, shapeless smocks made out of some kind of smooth, grayish skin unknown to her.

Bayub-Otal was kneeling beside her, together with an old man with a lined, brown face, deep-sunk eyes and a shock of gray hair. Round his neck, on a leather cord, was a bone amulet in the shape of a fish with gaping, toothed jaws. This, in fact, was the first thing Maia saw as she opened her eyes, for since its owner was bending over her it was hanging forward almost into her face. A good deal of the fetid, muddy odor, she now realized, came from him: at least, it was all around, but it would have been less strong if he had not been there. His look, however, was kind enough. Meeting it, she felt still less afraid, and for one strange, here-and-gone moment even had the no-

tion that she had seen it somewhere before. It expressed not only concern but also a kind of firm, undemanding patience, suggesting that by and large he expected to find people suffering and that even if he could not do a great deal about it he was in no particular hurry to leave them and be off about his own affairs. Nevertheless, he was a somewhat startling figure with whom to be confronted at close quarters, and Maia involuntarily drew back a little, turning her gaze towards Bayub-Otal.

He, though looking as tired as she felt, smiled down at her reassuringly.

"You've nothing to be afraid of, Maia. We're in Suba. No one can take you back to Bekla from here."

Uncontrollably, the tears sprang to her eyes. She sat sobbing on the spongy, warm ground, her wet hair hanging round her shoulders, her mouth and nose running down her chin. Bayub-Otal put his arm round her, then rolled up his cloak and, placing it behind her head, pressed her gently back until she was once more lying down.

"Let her cry if she wants to, Anda-Nokomis," said the shaggy man. "It'll do her good. She couldn't very well cry before, could she?"

"Well, she didn't, anyway," replied Bayub-Otal.

Tescon came up the track from the direction of the village and spoke to Lenkrit.

"They've got a hut ready for us now, sir, and some food."

"What about Maia?" asked Lenkrit.

"One of the women's going to look after her, sir."

"Do you think she can walk, Anda-Nokomis, or shall we carry her again?" asked Lenkrit.