"A little. Not enough."
"Does be know yet what happened? How Stone-Made-Soft slipped free?"
"No, but ... but he suspects. And I do, too."
Liat moved forward, sat beside Maati, took the bowl from his hands and
drank the wine. Her throat and chest warmed and relaxed. Maati took a
bottle from the floor.
"Not every poet is made for slaughter," Maati said as he tipped rice
wine clear as water into the howl. "There was a part of him that
rebelled at the prospect of turning the andat against the Galts. I know
he struggled with it, and he and I both believed he'd made his peace
with . 11 it.
"But now you think not?"
"Now I think perhaps he wasn't as certain as he told himself he was. He
may not even have known what he meant to do. It would take so little, in
a way. The decision of a moment, and then gone beyond retrieval. If he
regretted it in the next breath, it would already be too late. But it
can't he a coincidence, the Galts and Stone-Made-Soft."
Liat sipped now, just enough to maintain the warmth in her body but not
so much as to make her drunk. Maati drank directly from the bottle,
wiping it with his sleeve after.
""There's another explanation," she said. "The Galts could have done it."
"How? They can't unmake a binding."
`.. They could have bought him."
Nlaati shook his head, frowning. "Not Cehmai. There's not a man in the
world less likely to turn against the Khaiem."
"You're sure of that?"
"Yes. I'm sure," Nlaati said. "He was happy. He had his life and his
place in the world, and he was happy."
"So much the worse for him," Liat said. "At least we don't have that to
suffer, eh?"
"And now who sounds hitter?"
Liat chuckled and took a pose accepting the point that was made awkward
by the howl in one hand.
"How are things with Otah-kvo?" Maati asked.
"He's like the wind on legs," Liat said. "Ile wants to know everything
at once, control all of it, and I think he's driving the court half mad.
And ... don't say I said it, but it's almost as if he's enjoying it.
Everything's falling apart except him. If simple force of will can hold
a city together, I think Machi will he fine."
"It can't, though."
"No," she agreed. "It can't."
The back of Maati's hand brushed against her arm. It was a small,
tentative gesture, familiar as breath. It was something he had always
done when he was uncertain and in need of comfort. There had been times
when she'd found it powerfully annoying and times when she'd found
herself doing it too. Now, she shifted the wine howl to her other hand,
and resolutely laced her fingers with his.
"I haven't written hack to the Dal-kvo," Nlaati said. His voice was as
low as a confession. "I'm not sure what I should ... I haven't been hack
to Saraykeht, you know. I could ... I mean ... Gods, I'm saying this
badly. If you want it, Liat-kya, I could come hack with you. You and
Nayiit."
"No," she said. "There isn't room for you. My life there has a certain
shape to it, and I don't want you to he a part of it. And Nayiit's a
grown man. It's too late to start raising him now. I love you. And
Nayiit is better, I think, knowing you than he was before. But you can't
come hack with us. You aren't welcome."
hlaati looked down at his knees. His hand seemed to relax into her palm.
""Thank you," he whispered.
She raised his hand and kissed the wide, soft knuckles. And then his
mouth. He touched her neck gently, his hand warm against her skin.
"Put out the candles," she said.
Time had made him a better lover than when they had been young. Time and
experience-his and her own both. Sex had been so earnest then; so
anxious, and so humorless. She had spent too much time as a girl worried
about whether her breasts looked pleasing or if her hips were too thin.
In the years she had kept a house with him, Maati had tried to hold in
his belly whenever his robes came off. Youth and vanity, and now that
they were doomed to sagging flesh and loose skin and short breath, all
of it could be forgiven and left behind.
They laughed more now as they shrugged out of their robes and pulled
each other down on the wide, soft bed. They paused in their passions to
let Maati rest. She knew better now what would bring her the greatest
pleasure, and had none of her long-ago qualms about asking for it. And
when they were spent, lying wrapped in a soft sheet, Maati's head on her
breast, the netting pulled closed around them, the silence was deeper
and more intimate than any words they had spoken.
She would miss this. She had known the dangers when she had taken his
hand again, when she had kissed him again. She had known there would be
a price to pay for it, if only the pain of having had something pleasant
and precious and brief. For a moment, her mind shifted to Nayiit and his
lovers, and she was touched by sorrow on his behalf. He was too much her
son and not enough Otah's. But she didn't want Otah in this room, in
this moment, so she put both of these other men out of her mind and
concentrated instead on the warmth of her own flesh and Maati's, the
slow, regular deepening of his breath and of hers.
Her thoughts wandered, slowing and losing their coherence; turning into
something close kin to dream. She had almost slipped into the deep
waters of sleep when Maati's sudden spasm brought her back. He was
sitting up, panting like a man who'd run a mile. It was too dark to see
his face.
She called his name, and a low groan escaped him. He stood and for a
moment she was afraid that he would stagger and fall. But she made out
his silhouette, a deeper darkness, and he did not sway. She called his
name again.
"No," he said, then a pause and, "No no no no no. Oh gods. Gods, no."
Liat rose, but Maati was already walking. She heard him bark his shin
against the table in the front room, heard the wine bottle clatter as it
fell. She wrapped her sheet around herself and hurried after him just in
time to see him lumbering naked out the door and into the night. She
followed.
He trotted into the library, his hands moving restlessly. When he lit a
candle, she saw his face etched deep with dread. It was as if he was
watching someone die that only he could see.
"Maati. Stop this," she said, and the fear in her voice made her realize