For the first time since they had begun talking, Maia laughed.

"But that's not his only problem," went on Nasada. "The resemblance is so uncanny that doubts and questions begin to arise in his mind. Surely the only possible explanation is that he and she must be related in some way? This is something he obviously can't set aside, but of course it doesn't alter-oh, no, it only strengthens-his determination to get her out of Bekla if he can, and make her a free and honored woman."

There was a long silence. Nasada got up, filled Maia's cup and his own with the last of the wine, sat down again and drank deeply. "Well, it's made me quite dry-saying all that."

"U-Nasada," said Maia at length, "are you telling me that Bayub-Otal loves me?"

"Certainly not. He's the only person who could say anything like that."

"Well, then, do you know whether that's what he feels? Has he said anything to you?"

"No, he hasn't-nothing of that kind at all. But as I keep on telling you, Maia, he's a very reticent, diffident sort of man; reserved and constrained-with good reason."

"Then how do you know all this as you've been telling me?"

"Well, partly because he's told me a certain amount himself, and partly because I know him and I know Suba. And then again, you see, I'm old, and when you're old, if you'll believe me, you often find that you see quite a lot of things without actually being told, because of all you've learned and experienced yourself."

As she remained silent, perplexed, he added, "I'm not talking about love. That's nothing to do with me and I'm not trying to give you any advice one way or the other. I can't say whether or not it comes into the business at all. All I've tried to do is explain to you how you're situated here in Suba and the reason for what you've very naturally seen as Anda-Nokomis's strange behavior towards you."

"I can't hardly take it in at all."

"I'm not surprised. I can't myself; yet here you are, before my eyes."

After a little she asked, "Where are we going?"

"To Melvda-Rain. 'Rain' means a meeting-place, you know."

"What for?"

"You may well ask. Karnat's there, with his army from Terekenalt. And Anda-Nokomis has promised him the help of three thousand Subans, to be commanded by himself and Lenkrit. They're assembling now."

"What for?"

"I don't know," he answered. "But I should imagine to cross the Valderra and defeat the Beklan army, wouldn't you? What else?"

"But why are we going to Melvda-Rain, then, you and me?"

"I, because I'm a doctor. You, because of what I've just told you. Anda-Nokomis thinks that the mere sight of you at Melvda is bound to have a tremendous effect."

"You mean they'll think I'm Nokomis come back?"

"Some of them may really think that. They're simple folk, most of them. But they'll think you're magic, anyway. Perhaps you are-how would I know?"

"You mean I'll be made to go where there's fighting?"

"Oh, Lespa, no! They wouldn't take you across the Valderra: not at first, anyway; you're far too precious. It'll be quite enough for them to see you at Melvda. You'll be their magic luck."

Maia said no more. Her heart was surging with excitement and fear, dismay and wonder. After some time Na-sada said, "The agreement between Karnat and Anda-Nokomis is that if Karnat takes Bekla with the help of the Subans-and he can hardly hope to do it without-he'll give back the rule of Suba to Anda-Nokomis. Such things don't really concern me, but I do know that much."

"Then what does concern you in all this, U-Nasada?"

He looked surprised. "Why, there's going to be a lot of work for me, of course. People are going to get hurt."

"Oh, U-Nasada! Like-like on the river bank? Oh, no! No!"

"On the river bank? When you came over the Valderra, you mean, the night before last?"

"Yes; then. There was a boy-one of the soldiers-he came from near my home in Tonilda. Lenkrit killed him- he was crying for his mother on the bank! The blood- the smell-oh, I can't tell you how dreadful it was!"

She began to weep again. He stroked her cheek gently.

"I hate war as much as you do: but there's no stopping this, I'm afraid. Go to sleep now, Serrelinda. A good night's sleep makes everything look better. Would you like another of my night-drinks?"

"Yes, please."

As he was preparing it she asked, "U-Nasada, what are their clothes made of here? I've never seen anything like them anywhere else."

"They're the cured, treated skins of a fish called ephrit- stitched together, you know. Same idea as leather, really, except that it's fish-skin; comfortable enough once you're used to it."

"Is that why they all smell?"

He laughed. "Yes. So do I, when I'm traveling and working among them. After all, I'm Suban and it helps ordinary people to trust me and feel I'm one of them- which I am. But I changed into a robe for you-I. even

washed!-for the same reason, I suppose. Here you are, now. Drink it up, and I'll call Luma. Do you think you'll be all right?"

"As long as I can count on you, U-Nasada, I'm sure I will."

The kilyett was drifting on down the Nordesh. The warmth of the early sun had not yet pierced the foliage or drawn out the humid vapors from the swamps. It was cool, even chilly, along the water under the green tunnel, through which could be glimpsed, here and there, patches of lightly cloudy sky. Off to the left, at the edge of a shallow among the bordering trees, a flock of ibis were stalking and stabbing in the plashy mud with their curved, dark-red bills.

Behind came two smaller kilyetts carrying Kram, his friend and four or five other young men from Lukrait. All were armed with fish-spears and light, fire-hardened wooden shields. Unlike Beklan soldiers, none had any body-armor. They could not afford it, Maia supposed, for Gelt iron was there for the buying and she remembered having heard tell that Kembri himself had once made unavailing attempts to stop Gelt selling to Terekenalt.

Green and blue dragonflies were hovering and darting across the water, and several times, from one side or another, came a sudden, light pattering, rather like hail. Maia, turning towards the sound, was never ‹juick enough to spot what had made it; nor could she anticipate where it was likely to come from next. After watching her for a while with some amusement, Nasada laid a hand on her arm and silently pointed ahead of them towards the mouth of a side-channel leading away between tall reeds. Looking along its length as they drew level she saw, all in a moment, the still surface come alive as a shoal of little silver fish leapt a foot or two clear of the water, falling back again with the pattering noise she had heard.

"Margets, we call them. You don't have them on Ser-relind?"

"No, Nasada, not as I ever saw. They're pretty."

"They always jump like that at sunset and often in the

early part of the morning, too: never in the heat of the day. They like still, narrow water."

"Oh, I remember now; Bayub-Otal was on about them once."

"A few years ago, when I was living away from Suba, I found I missed that noise. To me, it's the sound of traveling alone down these waterways. The sound of solitude- the sound of arriving in time for supper, too."

"You lived away from Suba? Where; in Bekla?"

"No; on an island called Quiso, in the Telthearna. That's up in the north, you know, beyond the Gelt mountains."

"What took you up there, then, Nasada?"

"Oh, I wanted to learn more about doctoring from a certain wise woman. There's a female priesthood on Quiso- it's part of the cult of Shardik, you know. I learned a lot from them-well, from the Tuginda, anyway."

They talked on for a time; about his wanderings up and down the marsh country, and of her life on the shores of Lake Serrelind. She found herself avoiding any mention of what he had told her the previous evening, and he for his part spoke no more of it. After a while, feeling drowsy, she went back to the stern and lay down on the smooth wood, listening to the lapping of the water, the splash of the paddles and the intermittent, raucous cries of the birds in the swamps.