Maia by Richard Adams

how you come to be here. You talk and I'll listen."
    Maia gave an account of what had happened the previous day, omitting only any mention of what had passed between herself and Tharrin.
    "-so then, last night, I got up from the table, 'cos I was going to go straight out and start off back in the dark, see?" she concluded. "Only I was that done up, what with being in that cart and everything, I must 'a gone right off on the floor, 'cos next thing I remember's being woken up by that man and then you coming in."
    Occula, taking both her hands in her own, looked gravely up at her from the stool.
    "How old are you?"
    "Fifteen."
    "Just a banzi. What's your name?"
    "Maia. My mother's Morca. We live near Meerzat, up along the lake."
    "Well, listen, Maia. I've got to tell you somethin' you doan' know-somethin' very bad, too. Are you ready for it?"
    Maia stared. "What you mean, then?"
    "Tell you what I mean. These men are slave-traders. They're employed by dealers in Bekla-mostly by a man called Lalloc. He buys and sells girls-and little boys too. And from what you've just told me, I'm certain as I can be that your mother sold you to them yesterday."
    Like a great work of art, really bad news-enormous loss, ruin, disaster-takes time to make its full impact. Our first reaction is often almost idle, as though by trifling with the business we could reduce it, too, to triviality.
    "What would she do that for?" asked Maia.
    "You tell me," replied the black girl. " 'Cos that's what she did, and it's no good pretendin' she didn'; not if what you've told me's right. So what have you left out?"
    Suddenly it dawned on Maia why Morca should have done it. Thereupon she felt like one who, having woken from sleep but still half-awake, realized that the dully-perceived
    object swaying a foot or two from her head is in fact a deadly snake. All was clear on the instant: everything fitted. There was no way in which what had happened could be otherwise explained. Shuddering, she sank to the floor, burying her face in her hands and moaning.
    "The pretty dress-that's an old trick to get a sight of a girl naked," went on Occula matter-of-factly. "They'd have been hidin' somewhere, of course, where they could watch you. And then she sent you off on some errand or other while they worked out the price. And what was in the wine, I wonder?-yours, of course; no one else's.
Tes-sik,
most likely. They'd not risk
theltocama
on a banzi like you-might 'a killed you. And the padded cart-well, some girls throw themselves about, you know, when they realize what's happened-bang their heads and so on."
    Maia lay sobbing hysterically on the wooden boards. There was a knock and the door opened.
    "Get out, Megdon," said Occula. "Go on, piss off."
    "Brought your breakfast," said the man, in an injured tone. "Hot water, too. Don't you want it?"
    "Yes, when I say," replied the girl. "Just leave the hot water and get out." The door closed.
    Taking her stool over to the window, she sat looking out through the bars. At last she said, "Banzi, listen to me. I've seen a lot of girls this has happened to. I know what I'm talkin' about."
    As Maia, prone on the floor, continued sobbing, she went across to her, turned her over bodily and then sitting down beside her, took her head in her lap. "Listen to me; because this may very well save your life, and I'm not jokin'.
Save
your fife! Understand this-from now on you're in danger; as much as a soldier on a battlefield. But if your mate-that's me-stands by you and if you can keep your head and make good use of what you've been taught- that's to say, what I'll teach you-you've got a good chance of stayin' alive."
    Maia, with another burst of tears, tried to struggle from her arms.
    "O Kantza-Merada give me patience!" cried the black girl, holding her down by force. "All right, you're
not
a bastin' soldier, then! But I've
got
to make you see it, banzi! How? How? Here-answer me-can you swim?"
    The simple question penetrated Maia's