Not all the emeralds and silver in Bekla, however, could have quenched Maia's rustic curiosity or changed her conversational style to one of dignified restraint and elegant composure. Soon she was taking the lead in quizzing Milvushina about clothes and jewels, about her servants and what kind of hospitality she gave and received in the upper city. To all this Milvushina replied smilingly, cordially and without constraint. It was not long before the two girls (whose combined ages were less than thirty-four) had gone chattering upstairs to look through Maia's wardrobe.

After a while Milvushina, spreading across her lap a transparent, mauve robe embroidered with light and dark butterflies, which she had been admiring, sat down on the end of the bed and looked out across the Barb.

"This must sometimes remind you of Serrelind, I suppose," she said. "Do you ever miss Tonilda?"

"Precious little," answered Maia. " 'Twasn't as if we was exactly in clover, you know. To say the least," she added.

Milvushina, looking up from the enormous eyes, nodded. "I know: but has it ever struck you that at least what you remember's still there? I can understand you not wanting to go back-that wasn't really what I meant when I asked whether you ever missed it. At least it's still there, behind you, like the foot of a staircase-it still exists. Mine doesn't. It's vanished off the face of the earth."

Maia, having considered briefly what reply to make to

this rather unexpected remark, took refuge in tossing it back again.

"Does that make you miss it more, d'you think? Don't know as I'd much care if our old hut was gone-nor my mother neither, if you really want me to be honest. But then it's different for you, isn't it?" She sat down beside Milvushina and took her hand. "I heard tell as-well, as there was those who wanted you to go back to Santil-ke-Erketlis; but you didn't want. Well, and I heard, too, that-well, that things wouldn't have been the same if you had. But suppose they could have been-" She stopped, and then resumed, "Santil-that was what you wanted in the first place, was it? Before-before-you know?"

"Well, yes," answered Milvushina. "It was what my father wanted, you see, and it would have been a very honorable marriage, to a man who's still young and the foremost baron in Chalcon. But now I've done what you and Qccula both did. Since everything's changed and can't be altered, I've made the best of it and changed myself too."

"Are you all that much changed, then?" asked Maia. " 'Course, we didn't know each other a year ago, but just strikes me as now you may have got back to more what you used to be, like."

Two red-and-gray gaze-finches alighted on the windowsill and began pecking at the millet-seed which Maia had sprinkled. To her, feeding the birds was a luxury almost as pleasurable as hiring a hinnarist. Once, there would have been no millet to spare for the likes of her to be feeding to birds.

Milvushina's glance turned quickly towards the finches, then back to Maia with a smile.

"That night-you know-the night of-his-murder- there were two friends of my family up here for the festival."

"Oh, ah," said Maia. "I 'member now; I met them in the gardens with Elvair-ka-Virrion; a brother and sister?"

"That's right. Seld-T'maa and his sister Varriah. Their parents used to be old friends of my father. Did you know that they came to-to the house that night, to see me?"

"Well, funny thing you should ask that, 'cos it so happens Elvair asked whether I thought Terebinthia would let them see you, and I said yes, I reckoned she would."

"She did. They were actually with me-we were talking!

together-when news came of the murder. You can just imagine, can't you? The whole place was in utter confusion: Terebinthia went straight to the gardens. And that was when T'maa said he'd get me out of Bekla. He felt certain he could get me out through the Peacock Gate with himself and Varriah and we'd be off to his father's in northern Yelda."

"Whatever went wrong, then?" asked Maia.

Milvushina laughed. "I refused: or should I say I declined?"

Maia caught her breath. "You never!"

"Well, you see, Elvair and I already understood each other. The night of Sarget's party-that night when you danced; oh, and weren't you good, Maia? I'll never forget it-we-well, we came to an understanding as early as that, really. And as things turned out, the day after the murder he simply came and took me away. Terebinthia-he bribed her an enormous amount to let me go: I was on the temple's inventory of the household, you see. But as it was, that very afternoon I was in Elvair's rooms at the Lord General's house. Terebinthia took the money and got out as quick as she could. I believe the temple are still trying to find out where she's gone."

They both laughed, and Maia shook her head Wonderingly. "Well, there's a tale! Who'd ever have thought! When T'maa asked you, you weren't in two minds at all, then?"

"Not for a moment. You see, there wasn't anything for me to go back to. Oh, I don't mean I'd have been poor. I never really thought about that one way or the other. No, it's just that people in Chalcon don't think about things the way they do here. Never been there, have you?"

Maia smiled. "No, but I've been in Suba. Reckon it can't be all that much different."

"I'm a spoiled bargain, my dear. That's all they'd have seen in me, even though they'd have treated me kindly for my father's sake. Shop-soiled in Bekla." She tossed her head and stamped her foot; at which the finches flew away. "But not to Elvair. I'm not damaged goods to him. And he's all the world to me."

This showed the free-and-easy Elvair-ka-Virrion in something of a new light, thought Maia: yet it sounded genuine enough-he might very well have fallen sincerely in love with this beautiful, high-born girl in her distress,

and determined to save her from degradation and slavery. And for her sake he had gone the length of openly defying the temple authorities. Presumably he-or at any rate his father-could have afforded thirteen or fourteen thousand meld for Milvushina. But to have bought her would have been to accept the contention that she was legally a slave. Yes, and to have people saying, too, that his consort had once been a slave.

"So he really loves you?" she said. "Well, I'm that glad! I am truly."

"He's made life worth living again," said Milvushina. "That's what it comes to. Apart from everything else, he's given me standing and position here in Bekla, and I suppose I wouldn't be human not to like that." She paused. "It's all so strange, though."

"Strange?" asked Maia. "But you're a baron's daughter-?"

Milvushina laughed-the same happy sound which had so much startled Maia at Sarget's party.

"Bekla isn't Chalcon, dear. The kind of standing a Chal-con baron's daughter has is quite different from a Leopard's wife. I've had just as much to learn as ever you can have had, Maia, believe me."

"D'you see much of the Lord General?" asked Maia.

"He's been very kind to me," replied Milvushina. "You know the Sacred Queen tried to make trouble about me and Elvair? She told Elvair to send me back to Chalcon, and when he refused she told Kembri to make me go. But Kembri wouldn't." She picked up a carved onyx rabbit which one of Shend-Lador's friends had given to Maia, and began stroking it. "He says I'm the luck of the empire!"

"Did he say that to Fornis?"

"I don't know," said Milvushina. Then, suddenly, "Maia, are you afraid of her?"

"Yes, I am," said Maia, "and I'll tell you straight, I wouldn't want anyone telling her I'm the luck of the empire, that I wouldn't."

"Well, you are, aren't you? Oh, but Elvair wouldn't let anything happen to me! It's only that-oh, Maia, I do feel so frightened sometimes! I wish Elvair hadn't upset the chief priest and the Sacred Queen, even though I know it was for my honor. He told them straight out that I'd never been a slave-well, and that's true-and he wasn't going