chair. One of the thousand missteps he had made. The boy backed out of
the room, and Otah turned to the letters, folding them hack in their
order and slipping them into his sleeve. The boy preceded Liat into the
room, a tray with a silver carafe and two hand-molded bowls of granite
in his hands. Liat sat on the low divan, her eyes on the floor in
something that looked like respect but might only have been fear.
The door closed, and Otah poured a generous portion of wine into each
bowl. Liat took the one he proffered.
"It's lovely work," Liat said, considering the stone.
"It's the andat," Otah said. "He turns the quarry rock into something
like clay, and the potters shape it. One of the many wonders of Machi.
Have you seen the bridge that spans the river? A single stone poured
over molds and shaped by hand five generations hack. And there's the
towers. Really, we're a city of petty miracles."
"You sound hitter," she said, looking up at last. Her eyes were the same
tea-and-milk color he remembered. Otah sighed as he sat across from her.
Outside, the wind murmured.
"I'm not," he said. "Only tired."
"I knew you wouldn't end as a seafront laborer," she said.
"Yes, well . . ." Otah shook his head and sipped from the howl. It was
strong wine, and it left his mouth feeling clean and his chest warm.
"It's time we spoke about Nayiit."
Liat nodded, took a long drink, and held the cup out for more. Otah poured.
"It's all my fault," she said as she sat hack. "I should never have
brought him here. I never saw it. I never saw you in him. He was always
just himself. If I'd known that ... that he resembled you quite so
closely, I wouldn't have."
"Late for that," Otah said.
Liat sighed her agreement and looked up at him. It was hard to believe
that they had been lovers once. The girl he had known hack then hadn't
had gray in her hair, weariness in her eyes. And the boy he'd been was
as distant as snow in summer. Yes, two people had kissed once, had
touched each other, had created a child who had grown to manhood. And
Otah remembered some of those moments nowshowering at the barracks while
she spoke to him, the ink blocks at the desk in her cell at the compound
of House Wilsin, the feel of a young body pressed against his own, when
his flesh had also been new and unmarked. If those days long past had
been foolish or wrong, the only evidence was the price they both paid
now. It hadn't seemed so at the time.
"I've been thinking of it," Liat said. "I haven't told him. I wasn't
sure how you wanted to address the problem. But I think the wisest thing
to do is to speak with him and with Maati, and then have Nayiitkya take
the brand. I know it's not something done with firstborn sons, but it's
still a repudiation of his right to become Khai. It will make it clear
to the world that he doesn't have designs on your chair."
"'T'hat isn't what I'd choose," Otah said. His words were slow and
careful. "I'm afraid my son may die."
She caught her breath. It was hardly there, no more than a tremor in the
air she took in, but he heard it.
"Itani," she said, using the name of the boy he'd been in Saraykeht,
"please. I'll swear on anything you choose. Nayiit's no threat to Danat.
It was only the Galts that brought us here. I'm not looking to put my
son in your chair...."
Otah put down his bowl and took a pose that asked for her silence. Her
face pale, she went quiet.
"I don't mean that," he said softly. "I mean that I don't ... Gods. I
don't know how to say this. Danat's not well. His lungs are fragile, and
the winters here are bad. We lose people to the cold every year. Not
just the old or the weak. Young people. Healthy ones. I'm afraid that
Danat may dic, and there'll be no one to take my place. The city would
tear itself apart."
"But ... you want ..."
"I haven't done a good job as Khai. I haven't been able to put the
houses of the utkhaiem together except in their distrust of me and
resentment of Kiyan. There's been twice it came near violence, and I
only held the city in place by luck. But keeping Machi safe is my
responsibility. I want Nayiit unbranded, in case ... in case he becomes
my successor.
Liat's mouth hung open, her eyes were wide. A stray lock of hair hung
down the side of her face, three white hairs dancing in and out among
the black. He felt the faint urge-echo of a habit long forgotten-to
brush it back.
"'There," Otah said and picked up his wine bowl. "There, I've said it."
"I'm sorry," Liat said, and Otah took a pose accepting her sympathy
without knowing quite why she was offering it. She looked down at her
hands. The silence between them was profound but not uncomfortable; he
felt no need to speak, to fill the void with words. Liat drank her wine,
Otah his. The wind muttered to itself and to the stones of the city.
"It's not a job I'd want," Liat said. "Khai NIachi."
"It's all power and no freedom," Otah said. "If Nayiit were to have it,
he'd likely curse my name. There are a thousand different things to
attend to, and every one of them as serious as bone to someone. You
can't do it all."
"I know how it feels," Liat said. "I only have a trading house to look
after, and there's days I wish that it would all go away. Granted, I
have men who work the books and the negotiations and appeals before the
low judges and the utkhaiem ..
"I have all the low judges and the utkhaiem appealing to me," Otah said.
"It's never enough."
""I'here's always the descent into decadence and self-absorption," Liat
said, smiling. It was only half a joke. "They say the Khai Chaburi- 'Ian
only gets sober long enough to bed his latest wife."
"Tcnipting," Otah said, "but somewhere between taking the chair to
protect Kiyan and tonight, it became my city. I came from here, and even
if I'm not much good at what I do, I'm what they have."
""That makes sense," Liat said.
"Does it? It doesn't to me."
Liat put down her bowl and rose. He thought her gaze spoke of
determination and melancholy, but perhaps the latter was only his own.
She stepped close and kissed him on the check, a firm peck like an aunt
greeting a favorite nephew.
"Amat Kyaan would have understood," she said. "I won't tell Nayiit about
this. If anyone asks, I'll deny it unless I hear differently from you."