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MAIA

Richard Adams

A SIGNET BOOK

NEWAMERICAN LIBRARY

To Peter Johnson and Michael Mahony,

my sons-in-law, in whom I count myself fortunate

publisher's note

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and inci-dents are either the product of the

author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

NAL BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE AT QUANTITY DISCOUNTS WHEN USED TO PROMOTE

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MARKETING DIVISION, NEW AMERICAN LI-BRARY, I633 BROADWAY,NEW

YORK,NEW YORK I0OI9.

address Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.,201 East 50th Street,New York ,New York10022 .

Cover art and design by Robert Giusti

This is an authorized reprint of a hardcover edition published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. The hardcover

edition was published simul-taneously inCanada by Random House of Canada Limited,Toronto .

SIGNET TRADEMARK REG.U.S. PAT. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES REGISTERED

TRADEMARK — MARCA REGISTRADA HECHO ENWINNIPEG,CANADA

SIGNET, SIGNET CLASSIC,MENTOR , PLUME,MERIDIAN and NAL BOOKS are published by

New American Library, 1633 Broadway,New York ,New York 10019

PRINTED INCANADA

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I acknowledge with gratitude the help I have received from Peter Carson, Bob Gottlieb and John Guest,

who read the book before publication and made valuable criticisms and suggestions.

The manuscript was typed by Mrs. Elizabeth Aydon, Mrs. Janice Kneale, Mrs. A.-M. Sjowall-Nilsson

and Mrs. Janice Watterson. I thank them all most warmly. In ad-dition, Mrs. Aydon gave invaluable help

as a sort of "con-tinuity girl," picking up several inconsistencies, lacunae and points for correction. She

deserves special thanks on this account.

NOTE

Readers ofShardik will observe that the maps, included in this story, of the Beklan Empire and of Bekla

itself differ from those in the earlier book. These maps are not, however, inconsistent with those. Certain

places, e.g., Lak and Tissarn, shown on theShardik maps have been omitted here, since they form no

part of Maia's story. Conversely, other features, e.g.,LakeSerrelind , Nybril and Suba, played no part in

Shardik, and accordingly were not shown on those maps.

The events in this story ante-dateShardik by a few years.

"Maia" rhymes with "higher" (not with "layer").

LIST OF CHARACTERS

This list is in alphabetical order (not in order of appearance or importance) and is intended for the

convenience of anyone wishing to be reminded, while reading, of the iden-tity of this or that character.

Minor characters appearing in a single episode are omitted. On the other hand, several characters are

included (e.g., Drigga, Senda-na-Say) who, while they do not appear directly, are recurrently men-tioned

and relevant to the story.

Anda-Nokomis: ("The Dragonfly's Son") SeeBayub-Otal. Ashaktis: A Palteshi woman, attendant upon

Fornis. Astara: SeeNokomis.

Bayub-Otal: (otherwise known as "Anda-Nokomis") The dispossessed Ban of Suba: natural son of

Nokomis by the High Baron of Urtah: half-brother of Eud-Ecachlon.

Bel-ka-Trazet: High Baron of Ortelga.

Berialtis: An Ortelgan girl: Ta-Kominion's mistress.

Blarda: A farm lad, brother of Clystis.

Brero: A soldier, attendant upon Maia in Bekla.

Chia: An Urtan girl, enslaved in Bekla.

Clystis: Kerkol's wife.

Domris: Proprietress of the Lily Pool in Thettit-Tonilda.

Drigga: An old woman, neighbor to Morca during Maia's childhood: a village story-teller, ballad-singer,

etc.

Durakkon: High Baron of Bekla and nominal head of the Leopards.

Dyphna: A concubine of Sencho, later a Beklan courtesan or "shearna."

Elleroth: Son and heir of the Ban of Sarkid: commander of a force of irregulars with Santil-ke-Erketlis.

Elvair-ka-Virrion: Son of Kembri-B'sai, Lord General of Bekla.

Enka-Mordet: A baron in Chalcon: father of Milvushina.

Eud-Ecachlon: Son and heir of the High Baron of Urtah: half-brother of Bayub-Otal.

Fleitil: A master-sculptor of Bekla (grandson of "the great Fleitil").

Fordil: A master-musician of Bekla.

Form's: Daughter of Kephialtar-ka-Voro, High Baron of Paltesh: Sacred Queen of Airtha in Bekla.

Frarnli: Proprietress of "The Safe Moorings," a tavern at Meerzat.

Fravak: A Beklan metal-merchant; at one time Sencho's master.

Gehta: A girl working on a farm northwest of Bekla.

Genshed: A slave-trader employed by Lalloc.

Han-Glat: The Leopards' Controller of Fortifications: de-signer of the fortress at Dari-Paltesh.

Jarvil: Sencho's door-keeper or porter: later, Maia's por-ter.

Jejjereth: A half-crazy orator and self-styled prophet in Bekla.

Kapparah: A Beklan captain.

Karnat: King of Terekenalt.

Kelsi: The eldest of Maia's three younger sisters.

Kembri-B'sai: Lord General of Bekla: father of Elvair-ka-Virrion.

Kephialtar-ka-Voro: High Baron of Paltesh: father of For-nis.

Kerith-a-Thrain: A Beklan general.

Kerkol: A small farmer.

Kram: A Suban youth.

Lalloc: A Deelguy slave-dealer in Bekla.

Lenkrit-Duhl: Baron ofUpper Suba .

Lirrit: An infant, youngest of Maia's three sisters.

Lokris: Milvushina's maid in Bekla.

Luma: A Suban girl.

Maia: A Tonildan girl.

Makron: A Suban village elder, husband of Penyanis.

Malendik: A man employed by N'Kasit.

Megdon: A slave-trader employed by Lalloc.

Mendel-el-Ekna: A Lapanese captain, adherent of Randronoth.

Meris: A Belishban, concubine of Sencho.

Milvushina: A Chalcon girl, daughter of Enka-Mordet.

Mollo: Elleroth's captain of pioneers.

Morca: Tharrin's wife.

Nala: The second of Maia's three younger sisters.

Nasada: A Suban doctor.

Nennaunir: A Beklan courtesan or "shearna."

N'Kasit: A Kabinese merchant dealing in hides, leather, etc., in Bekla.

Nokomis: ("The Dragonfly"; originally named Astara) A Suban dancing-girl, mother of Bayub-Otal by

the High Baron of Urtah.

Occula: A black girl.

Ogma: A lame slave-girl.

Otavis: A Beklan slave-girl, later a courtesan or "shearna."

Penyanis: A Suban lady, wife of Makron.

Perdan: A slave-trader employed by Lalloc.

Pillan: Servant to Bayub-Otal.

Pokada: Prison governor in Bekla.

Randronoth: Governor of Lapan.

Santil-ke-Erketlis: A baron in Chalcon.

Sarget: A wealthy Beklan wine-merchant.

Sednil: A young Palteshi: lover of Nennaunir.

Seekron: A Lapanese nobleman, adherent of Randronoth.

Selperron: A Kabinese merchant, friend of N'Kasit.

Sencho-be-L'vandor: High Counselor of Bekla: the Leop-ards' Chief of Intelligence.

Senda-na-Say: The former High Baron of Bekla, killed by Durakkon.

Sendekar: A Beklan general.

Sessendris: Housekeeper (or "saiyett") to Kembri.

Shend-Lador. A young Leopard, son of the castellan of the Beklan citadel.

Sphelthon: A young Tonildan soldier. Ta-Kominion: A young Ortelgan noble.

Terebinthia: Housekeeper (or "saiyett") to Sencho.

Tescon: A young Suban, adherent of Lenkrit.

Tharrin: Maia's stepfather.

Thel: A young Suban, adherent of Lenkrit.

Tolis: A junior officer in Elleroth's force: lieutenant to

Mollo. "Zai": Occula's name for her father (actually named Baru):

a jewel-merchant.

Zen-Kurel: A Katrian staff officer of King Karnat. Zirek: A pedlar.

Zuno: A young man in Lalloc's, later in Fornis's employ.

PART I

THE PEASANT

1: THE FALLS

Three hundred yards downstream the noise of the falls, muffled by intervening trees and undergrowth in

the crook of the bend, was reduced to a quiet murmur of pouring water, a natural sound more smoothly

continuous than any other—than wind, insects or even night frogs in the marshes. In winter it might

increase to the heavy roar of spate: in summer drought, diminish to a mere splashing among fern at lip and

weed at base. It never ceased.

Below the bend the river ran strongly under the further bank, where its uneven bed of stones, gravel and

sunken logs made the surface ripple and undulate, so that the tilted planes glittered in the late afternoon

sun. Under the over-grown, nearer bank it was deeper and stiller, dully reflect-ing sky and trees. All

about, on either side, masses of plants were in vivid bloom; some forming wide beds in the shallows,

others lining the banks waist-high or trailing from the trees in festoons of saffron, crimson and

greenish-white. Their honey-sweet or citrus scents filled the air, as did the hum of insects hovering and

gliding, hunting prey or them-selves darting in flight. Here and there a fish rose, gulped down a floating fly

and vanished, leaving widening circles that died away on the surface.

Taller than the rushes and swamp-grass filling a marshy inlet on the further bank, akeriot— the green,

frog-hunting heron of the Tonildan Waste—stood motionless, watching the few feet of slow-moving

water around it with alert, voracious eyes. From time to time it would bend its long neck and stab,

gobbling quickly before resuming its still posture.

At length, as the sun, declining, dipped behind the tops of the trees, throwing their shadows across the

river, the keriot became restless. Wary even beyond the common run of wild creatures, it was alerted

and made uneasy by such slight intrusions as the change of light, the movement of shadows and the

breeze now sprung up among the creep-ers. Having taken a few restless steps this way and that through

the plumed reeds, it rose into the air and flew upstream, its long legs trailing behind the slow beat of its

wings. Flying directly up the line of the river, it was making for the still-sunlit falls.

The big bird was high enough above the river to see,

over the lip of the falls, the lake beyond lying calm in the sun, its blue expanse contrasting with the tumult

and white water of the twenty-foot-high outfall. There were in fact two falls, each about fifteen yards

wide, separated by a little, green island bordered, at this time of year, with forget-me-not and golden

water-lilies, some nodding and dipping upon the very edge, as though peering down into the welter

below.

The keriot had circled twice and was just about to glide down to the flat stones at the foot of the falls

when suddenly it rose again, turned and made heavily off across the near-by thickets of scrub willow,

disappearing at length into the recesses of the swamp. Something had evidently decided it to go

elsewhere.

Here, at close quarters, the noise of the falls was made up of all manner of sounds: boomings, gurglings,

patterings of spray, sudden spurts and bubblings here and gone above the steady beat of water falling

into water and the higher, smacking note of water falling upon flat stones. And amongst this tumult a girl

was singing, her voice rising clearly above the plunging boil.

"Why was I born? Ah, tell me, tell me, Lord Cran!Isthar, isthal a steer. Thou wast born, my daughter,

to bear the weight of a man.Isthar a steer, na ro, isthal a rondu. "

The singer was nowhere to be seen. Though her song had alarmed the keriot, a human listener

(supposing there to be one at hand) must surely have been affected other-wise, for it possessed not only

youthful gladness, but also a kind of tentative, wondering quality of which the singer herself could hardly

have been conscious, just as no bird or animal can be aware of its own beauty. Her voice, common and

beautiful as any of the flowers by the pool, fell silent, leaving only the water-noises, but still there was no

one to be seen along the verge or on the stones beneath the green-and-white stretch of the falls. Then, as

though a spirit's, the song resumed from a different place, close to the further bank.

" 'Fill thou my purse, great Cran; my purse is cut.'Isthar, isthal a steer.

'Seek, daughter, that horn of plenty with which men

butt.'Isthar a steer, na ro, isthal a rondu."

Out through the curtain of falling water stepped a girl, perhaps fifteen years old: sturdy and well-made,

the very picture of youthful energy and health, her naked body glistening as the cascade beat down upon

it, pouring in streams from her shoulders, her out-thrust breasts and the firm curve of her buttocks.

Laughing, she flung back her head and for a moment took the full force of the fall in her face; then,

spluttering, she threw up her arms and spread her open hands to shield herself from the water. In this

posture she rocked on her heels, swaying back and forth, now disappearing behind the water-curtain,

now covered with it as by a bright, translucent cloak and again leaning forward to leave the torrent

unbroken at her back.

Despite the bloom and opulence of her body and the words of her song, both her face and a certain

ingenuous quality in her bearing suggested the child rather than the woman. Her absorbed, joyous

movements as she played her game (not far removed from hide-and-seek or peep-bo), in and out of the

water-curtain; her impulsive, unself-conscious delight, like that of a creature unreflectingly happy in the

immediate moment; her very nakedness in this open (if lonely) spot—all denoted a girl who, while she

might have learned already to know the world as a place where one could be tired, hungry or even ill,

had never yet found it perilous or cruel, or become aware (except perhaps in . stories or songs) of the

kind of danger which would cer-tainly have been present to the mind of an older girl bath-ing alone in this

wilderness. Not that she was unconscious of her early maturity and beauty: indeed, standing under the

fall, deliberately moving so that the inexhaustible water deluged and caressed in turn her shoulders, her

belly, thighs and rump, she appeared sensible of nothing else.

Longing for the future, dwelling on it, even enacting it in imagination—such blending of syrupy

concoctions never includes the sharper ingredients infused by experience. These would be as unpalatable

to the immature taste of young girls (who are free to exclude them from their dreams) as they often are to

the taste of grown women (who are not free to exclude them from their lives).

At length, tiring of picking her way back and forth along

the cool, slippery recesses behind the fall and looking out— like a sentry from a castle—through rifts in

the falling water, the girl burst through it once more, hop, skip and jump on the stones, plunged headlong

into the pool and swam swiftly down to the shallow water at its foot. Here, as the sand and small gravel

of the bed brushed her prone length, she came to rest, turned on her back and lay spread-eagled, legs

apart, her head resting on a convenient, flat stump just above the surface.

" "The flowers of spring, Lord Cran, they cannot be

counted.'

Isthar, isthal a steer.'They bloom in the green field where the mare was

mounted.'Isthar a steer, na ro, isthal a rondu.

'I will tell thee, my daughter—' "

She giggled, sinking a few moments below the surface, so that the words were lost in bubbling. Then,

standing up, she began wandering here and there through the shal-lows, pulling the long-stalked lilies,

gold and pink, piercing their fibrous, dripping stems with her thumb-nail and threading them into a wreath.

A tangle of scarlettrepsls hung over the opposite bank, and she waded across and wrenched out half a

dozen strands, twining them into the lily-garland until it was nearly as thick as her arm.

Hanging it round her neck, she stood dabbling her feet, picking up sticks between her toes and bending

her head this way and that to smell the great collar of bloom that covered her shoulders. Then, off again

like a child who cannot remain still but must find some outlet for its energy, she began gathering more

flowers—pulling tufted heads off the clusteringhellias, plucking daisies out of the grass, campions, orange

ladies' cups—whatever came to hand. She made a belt, bracelets of flowers and a lopsided, fragile

crown that would not hold together until she had bound it with another strand of trepsis. She put a

crimson flower behind each ear and another in the hollow of her navel— whence it almost at once fell

out. Then, smiling—for in imagination she was teasing an outraged, invisible com-panion—she tore up a

sheaf of forget-me-nots and, pinch-ing the thin stems one by one from the plant, threaded them in and out

of the fleece of hair at her groin, until it

was first speckled and then almost completely hidden be-neath a close mat of small, sky-blue flowers.

"I am the Queen of Bekla!"

Raising open arms, she began pacing with measured dignity across the shallows, but unluckily trod on a

pointed stone, cried "Ow!" and stood wobbling on one leg. Pet-ulantly, she kicked the water, sending up

a shower of drops; then bent down, pulled up the offending stone, spat on it and tossed it away among

the trees. Another impulse com-ing upon her, she climbed out on the bank, ran to the head of the pool,

took three steps into the deeper water, turned on her back and slowly drifted, flowers and all, out

towards the centre. Here she floated, arms at her sides, only her breasts and face above the surface,

gazing up at the sinking disc of the sun.

"You dazzle me—reckon I'll dazzle you!" she whis-pered. "Go on, try and burn me, then—yah, I'm in

the water!"

As she remained floating, the current, rippling over and past her, gently soaked and pulled at her frail

finery, grad-ually loosening and untwining it, so that the flowers began to drift away piecemeal from her

body; here a lily, there a daisy carried away on the stream, some vanishing swiftly, some twirling in slow

eddies under the bank, until at length, save for a bloom or two, she was naked as at first. Last of all, she

allowed herself to drift downstream until she was standing once more at the tail of the pool, the water to

her knees.

The sun had dropped lower and now the falls lay in shadow, their multifoliate white faded to a single,

smooth gray. The girl—a strong swimmer, continually in and out of the water all her short life—had swum

far out into the lake that afternoon before returning to laze by the pool. Now she felt weary; hungry, too,

and a little cold. Wading to the bank she paused, straddling her thighs to make water in the stream. Then,

putting one knee on the short grass of the bank to clamber up, she wrung out her long, wet hair with

quick, impatient twistings, pulled her shift and worn, homespun smock over her still-wet shoulders,

scrambled up the slope to one side of the falls and, bare-foot, sauntered away down the lakeside in the

light of the sunset.

She had neither seen nor heard anything to suggest to her that she was observed. In fact, however, she

had been

watched for some time by a man hidden among the trees, the sound of whose approach and later

occasional move-ments to keep her in view had been covered by the noise of the falls. As soon as she

had gone he stepped out of hiding, hastened along the bank, flung himself down on the turf and in a

matter of seconds gratified himself, pant-ing with closed eyes and in his transport pressing his face into

the grass where her naked body had lain. He was her stepfather.

2: THE CABIN

It was already dusk as the girl strolled through the hamlet near the upper end of the lake and on a few

hundred yards, down a high-banked, narrow track leading to a timber cabin. The cabin, fairly large but in

poor repair, stood beside a fenced grazing-field with an old shed in one corner. Between it and the

surrounding wasteland lay three or four cultivated patches of millet and close by, the greener, conical

sprouts of a late crop ofbrillions.

A younger girl, perhaps eleven or twelve years old, came running down the track, her bare feet sending

up little clouds of dust. In one hand she was clutching a hunk of black bread from which, as she came to

a stop, she took a quick bite.

The older girl also stopped, facing her.

"What's up then, Kelsi?"

"Mother's that cross with you, Maia, for bein' away so long."

"I don't care," replied the girl. "Let her be!"

"I saw you was coming: I come to let you know. She told me to go and get the cows in, 'cos Tharrin's

not come home yet either. I'll have to go back now, 'fore she starts wonderin' where I got to."

"Give me a bit of that bread," said the girl.

"Oh, Maia, it's all she give me!"

"Just a bite, Kelsi, come on: I'm starving! She'll give me mine: then I'll give it back to you."

"I know your bites," said Kelsi. She broke off a small piece between a dirty finger and thumb. Maia took

it, chewing slowly before swallowing.

"She'd better not try to do anything to me," she said at

length. "Supper—she'd just better give me some, that's all."

"She don't like you, does she?" said Kelsi, with childish candor. "Oh, not for a while now. What you

done?"

Maia shrugged. "Dunno; I don't likeher much, either."

"She was sayin' this evening as you was big enough to do half the work, but you left it all to her. She

said—"

"I don't care what she said. Tharrin wasn't there, was he?"

"No, he's been out all day. I'll have to go now," said Kelsi, swallowing the last of the bread. She set off

up the track, running.

Maia followed with the idling pace of reluctance. Before approaching the door of the cabin she stopped

and, on impulse, scrambled up the bank and tugged down a branch of orange-floweringsanchel.

Plucking a bloom, she stuck it behind her left ear, pulling back her hair to make sure that it was not

hidden among the wet tresses.

Just as she entered, a chubby little girl, no more than three years old, came running through the doorway

Richard Adams - Maia

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