how they all managed to fit inside. Certainly the place seemed abustle with
Beysib functionaries in laced breeks and loose doublets or the flared skirts and
high collars they all affected. It seemed to her that they even outnumbered the
silk-sashed Palace servants who went about their duties with such ostentatious
solemnity.
Gilla looked at her daughter, already aping Beysib fashion in a gown cut down
from an old petticoat of her lady’s whose borders glittered with threads of
gold. Whether this Beysib female was any help or no, certainly Gilla and Lalo
had done a good piece of work when they used his Palace connections to get Vanda
a position here. The Lady Kurrekai occupied a chamber on the second floor of the
Palace, close to the roomier apartments near the roof garden, which had been
taken over by the Beysa. If Gilla understood what Vanda had told her of Beysib
politics, Kurrekai was a cousin of Shupansea the Queen, not in direct line for
the lost Imperial throne, but royal enough to keep one of the sacred serpents
and to have been trained as a priestess.
Gilla shuddered, thinking of the beynit. Enas Yorl’s basilisks had been bad
enough, and now she must face this imported horror. / must love that man, she
thought glumly, or I would be running for home.
And then they were at the door, and the choice was gone. She smelled some kind
of incense, like bitter sandalwood.
‘Ah. the mother of my little friend. You are welcome …’ A voice rather deep
and slightly accented greeted them. The figure that rose as they entered was