hidden from casual observers.
Amiit led Otah up the stairs and into a bright, simple room with a
table, a few rough wooden chairs, an unlit lantern and a wide, low
cabinet. Roast chicken, fresh cheese, and apples just on the edge of
ripeness had been laid out for them. Sharpened by Otah's hunger and
relief and wonder, the smell of them was wonderful. Amiit gestured
toward the table, then opened the cabinet and took out two earthenware
mugs and flasks of wine and water. Otah took a leg from the chicken and
hit into it-the flesh tasted of tarragon and black pepper. He closed his
eyes and grinned. Nothing had ever in his life tasted so good.
Amiit chuckled.
"You've grown thinner, old friend," Amiit said as he poured himself wine
and Otah a mixture of wine and water. "You'd think accommodations in
Machi would he better."
"What's going on, Amiit-cha?" Otah asked, taking the proffered drink.
"Last I heard, I was going to be either executed as a criminal or
honorably killed in the succession. This ...... he gestured at the room
with his mug. "This wasn't suggested as an option."
"It wasn't approved by the Khaiem, that's truth," Amiit said. He sat
across from Otah and picked up one of the apples, turning it over slowly
as he spoke, inspecting it for worm holes. "The fact is, I only know
half of what's going on in Nlachi, if that. After our last talk-when you
were first coming up here-I thought it might be best to put some plans
in motion. In case an opportunity arose, you understand. It would be
very convenient for House Siyanti if one of their junior couriers became
the Khai Machi. It didn't seem likely at the time. But ..."
He shrugged and hit into the apple. Otah finished the chicken and took
one of the fruits himself. Even watered, the wine was nearly too strong
to drink.
"We put out men and women to listen," Amiit went on. "To gather what
information we could find. We weren't looking for anything in
particular, you understand. Just an opportunity."
"You were looking to sell information of me to the Khai in return for a
foothold in Machi," Otah said.
"Only as a last resort," Amiit agreed. "It's business. You understand."
"But they found me instead," Otah said. The apple was sweet and chalky
and just slightly bitter. Amiit pushed a platter of cheese toward him.
""That looked bleak. It's truth. And that you'd been in our pay seemed
to seal it. House Siyanti wasn't going to be welcome, whichever of your
brothers took the title."
"And taking me out of their tower was intended to win back their favor?"
Amiit's expression clouded. He shook his head.
"That wasn't our plan. Someone hired a mercenary company to take you
from the city to a low town and hold you there. We don't know who it
was; they only met with the captain, and he's not on our side. But I'm
fairly certain it wasn't your brother or your father."
"But you got word of it?"
"I had word of it. Mercenaries ... well, they aren't always the most
reliable of companions. Sinja-cha knew I was in the city, and would be
interested in your situation. He was ready to make a break with his old
cohort for other reasons, and offered me the opportunity to ... what?
Outbid his captain for his services in the matter?"
"Sinja-cha is the commander?"
"Yes. Or, was. He's in my employ now. With luck, his old captain thinks
him dead along with you and the other armsmen involved."
"And what will you do now? Ransom me back to the Khai?"
"No," Amiit said. "I've already made a bargain that won't allow that.
Besides, I really did enjoy working with you. And ... and you may yet be
in a position to help me more as an ally than a commodity, ne?"
"It's a bad bet," Otah said and smiled.
Amiit grinned again.
"Ah, but the stakes are high. Would you rather just have water? I wasn't
thinking."
"No, I'll keep this."
"Whatever you like. So. Yes, something's happening in Machi. I expect
they're out scouring the world for you even now. And in a day, perhaps
two, they'll find you floating down the river or caught on a sandbar."
"And then?"
"I don't know," Amiit said. "And then we'll know what's happened in the
meantime. Things are moving quickly, and there's more going on than I
can fathom. For instance, I don't know what the Galts have to do with it."
Otah put down his cup. Even under the blanket of whiskers, he could see
the half-smile twitch at Amiit's mouth. The overseer's eyes sparkled.
"But perhaps you do?" Amiit suggested.
"No, but ... no. I've dealt with something else once. Something
happened. The Galts were behind it. What are they doing here? How do
they figure in?"
"They're making contracts with half the houses in Machi. Large contracts
at disadvantageous terms. They've been running roughshod over the
Westlands so long they're sure to be good for it-they have almost as
much money as the Khaiem. It may just be they've a new man acting as the
overseer for the Machi contracts, and he's no good. But I doubt it. I
think they're buying influence."
"Influence to do what?"
"I haven't the first clue," Amiit said. "I was hoping you might know."
Otah shook his head. He took another piece of chicken, but his mind was
elsewhere. The Galts in Machi. He tried to make Biitrah's death, the
attack on Maati, and his own improbable freedom into some pattern, but
no two things seemed to fit. He drank his wine, feeling the warmth
spread through his throat and belly.
"I need your word on something, Amiit-cha. That if I tell you what I
know, you won't act on it lightly. There are lives at stake."
"Galtie lives?"
"Innocent ones."
Amiit considered silently. His face was closed. Otah poured more water
into his cup. Amiit silently took a pose that accepted the offered
terms. Otah looked at his hands, searching for the words he needed to say.
"Saraykeht. When Seedless acted against Heshai-kvo there, the Gaits were
involved. They were allied with the andat. I believe they hoped to find
the andat willing allies in their own freedom, only Seedless was ...
unreliable. They hurt Heshai badly, even though their plan failed. They
aren't the ones who murdered him, but Heshai-kvo let himself be killed
rather than expose them."
"Why would he do an idiot thing like that?"
"He knew what would happen. He knew what the Khai Saraykeht would do."
Otah felt himself on the edge of confession, but he stopped before
admitting that the poet had died at his hands. There was no need, and
that, at least, was one secret that he chose to keep to himself.
Instead, he looked up and met Amiit's gaze. When the overseer spoke, his
voice was calm, measured, careful.
"He would have slaughtered Galt," Amiit said.
"Innocent lives."
"And some guilty ones."
"A few."
Amiit leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled before his lips.
Otah could almost see the calculations taking place behind those calm,
<
br /> dark eyes.
"So you think this is about the poets?"
"It was last time," Otah said. "Let me send a letter to Maati. Let me
warn him-"
"We can't. You're dead, and half the safety we can give you depends on
your staying dead until we know more than this. But ... but I can tell a
few well-placed people to be on alert. And give them some idea what to
be alert for. Another Saraykeht would be devastating." Amiit sighed
deeply. "And here I thought only the succession, your life, and my house
were in play. Poets now, too."
Amiit's smile was thoughtful.
"I'll give you this. You make the world more interesting, Itani-cha. Or...?"
He took a pose that asked for correction.
"Otah. Much as I've fought against it, my name is Otah Machi. We might
as well both get used to saying it."
"Otah-cha, then," Amiit said. He seemed pleased, as if he'd won some
small victory.
Voices came up through the window. The commander's was already familiar
even after so short a time. Otah couldn't make out the words, but he
sounded pleased. Another voice answered him that Otah didn't know, but
the woman's laughter that pealed out after it was familiar as water.
Otah felt the air go thin. He stood and walked slowly to the open
shutters. There in the yard behind the farmhouse Sinja and one of the
archers were standing beside a lovely woman in loose cotton robes the
blue of the sky at twilight. Her fox-thin face was smiling, one eyebrow
arched as she said something to the commander, who chuckled in his turn.
Her hair was dark and shot with individual strands of white that she had
had since birth.
He saw the change in Kiyan's stance when she noticed him-a release and
relaxation. She walked away from the two men and toward the open window.
Otah's heart beat fast as if he'd been running. She stopped and put out
her hands, palms up and open. It wasn't a formal pose, and seemed to
mean here I am and here you are and who would have guessed this all at once.
"She came to me not long after you left," Amiit said from where he sat.
"I'm half-partner in her wayhouse down in Udun. We've been keeping it a
quiet arrangement, though. There's something to be said for having a
whole wayhouse of one's own without the couriers of other houses knowing
it's yours."
Otah wanted to look hack at the man, but his gaze seemed fastened on
Kiyan. He thought he caught a faint blush rising in her cheeks. She
shook her head as if clearing away some unwanted thought and walked in
toward the house and out of his view. She was smiling, though. Sinja had
also caught sight of Otah in the window and took a pose of congratulation.
"She's changed her mind, then. About me?"
"Apparently."
Otah turned back and leaned against the wall. Its coolness surprised
him. After so many days in the cell at the tower's height, he'd come to
think of stone as warm. Amiit poured himself another cup of wine. Otah
swallowed to loosen his throat. The question didn't want to be asked.
"Why? What changed it?"
"I have known Kiyan-cha well for almost a quarter of this year. Not even
that. You've been her lover for what? Three summers? And you want me to
explain her mind to you? You've become an optimist."
Otah sat because his knees felt too weak to hold him. Amiit chuckled
again and rose.
"You'll need rest for a few days. And some food and space enough to move
again. We'll have you strong enough to do whatever it is needs doing, I
hope. This place is better watched than it looks. We'll have warning if
anyone comes near. Don't let any of this trouble you for now; you can
trust us to watch over things."
"I want to see her," Otah said.
"I know," Amiit said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And she wants to
see you. It's why I'm leaving. Just remember you haven't eaten to speak
of in days, you're weak from the cell, you've hardly slept, and you were
abducted last night. Don't expect too much from yourself. There really
is no hurry."
Otah blushed now, and Amiit grabbed one last apple and made for the
door. Kiyan reached it just as he did, and he stepped back to let her
through. He closed the door gently behind him. Otah rose to his feet,
suddenly tongue-tied. Kiyan also didn't speak, but her gaze traveled
over him. He could see the distress in it even though she tried to keep
it hidden.
"'Tani," she said, "you ... you look terrible."
"It's the beard," Otah said. "I'll shave it."
She didn't take up the humor, only walked across the room and folded him
into her arms. The scent of her skin flooded him with a hundred jumbled
memories of her. He put his arm around her, embarrassed to notice that
his hand was unsteady.
"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again," he murmured. "I never meant to
put you at risk."
"What did they do to you? Gods, what have they done?"
"Not so much. They only didn't feed me well fora time and locked me
away. It wasn't so had."
She kissed his check and pulled back from him until each could see the
other's face. 't'here were tears in her eyes, but she was angry.
"They were going to kill you," she said.
"Well, yes. I mean, I thought that was assumed."
"I'll kill them all with my bare hands if you'd like," she said with a
smile that meant she was only half joking.
"That might be more than the situation calls for. But ... why are you
here? I thought ... I thought I was too much a risk to you."
"That didn't change. Other things ... other things did. Come. Sit with me."
Kiyan took a bite of the cheese and poured herself water. Her hands were
thin and strong and as lovely as a sculpture. Otah rubbed his temples
with the palms of his hands, hoping that this was all as real as it
seemed, that he wouldn't wake again in the cell above the city.
"Sinja-cha told me you wanted to turn hack. He said it was because of
me. That your being there kept them from searching me out."
"Knowing me shouldn't have that kind of price on it," Otah said. "It was
... it was what I could do. That's all."
"Thank you," she said, her voice solemn.
Kiyan looked out the window. There was a dread in the lines of her
mouth, a fear that confused him. He reached out, thinking to take her
hand in his own, but the movement brought her back and a smile flitted
over her and was gone.
"I don't know if you want to hear this. But I've been waiting to say it
for longer than I can stand, and so I'm going to be selfish. And I don't
know how to. Not well."
"Is it something I'll want to hear?"
"I don't know. I hope ... I ... Gods. Here. When you left, I missed you
worse than I'd expected. I was sick with it. Physically ill. I thought I
should be patient. I thought it would pass. And then I noticed that I
seemed to miss you most in the early mornings. You understand?"
She looked Otah deep in the eye, and he frowned, trying to find some
deeper significance in the words. And then he did, and he felt the world
drop away f
rom tinder him. He took a pose of query, and she replied with
a confirmation.
"Ah," he said and then sat, utterly at a loss. After ten or twenty
breaths, Kiyan spoke again.
"The midwife thinks sometime around Candles Night. Maybe a lit tle
after. So you see, I knew there was no avoiding the issue, not as long
as I was carrying a baby with your blood in it. I went to Amiit-cha and
we ... he, really ... put things in motion."
"There are blood teas," Otah said.
"I know. The midwife offered them to me. Would you ... I mean, is that
what you would have wanted?"
"No! Only I ... I'd thought you wouldn't give up what you had. Your
father's wayhouse. I don't know that I have much of a life to give you.
I was a dead man until a little before dawn today. But if you want ..."
"I wouldn't have left the wayhouse for you, 'Tani. It's where I grew up.
It's my home, and I wouldn't give it up for a man. Not even a good man.
I made that decision the night you told me who your father was. But for
the both of you. Or really, even just for her. That's a harder question."
A Betrayal in Winter lpq-2 Page 27