Adrah's voice was distant, as if only half his attention was on the
conversation. His eyes, however, were fixed on Cehmai like a snake on a
mouse, only Cehmai wasn't sure which of them would be the mouse, which
the serpent.
"I will look there," Cehmai said. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
"We are always pleased by an audience with the poet of Machi. Wait.
Don't ... don't go. Sit with me a moment."
Stone-Made-Soft didn't shift, but Cehmai could feel its interest and
amusement in the back of his mind. Cehmai sat in it rag-covered chair.
Adrah pulled a stool near to him, nearer than custom required. It was as
if Adrah wanted to make him feel they were in a smaller room together.
Cehmai kept his face as placid as the andat's.
"The city is in terrible trouble, Cehmai-cha. You know how had these
things can get. When it's only the three sons of the Khai, it's bad
enough. But with all the utkhaicm scheming and fighting and betraying
one another, the damage to the city ...
"I'd thought about that," Cehmai said, though in truth he cared more
about Idaan than the political struggles that the coming weeks would
bring. "And there's still the problem of Otah. He has a claim ..."
"He's murdered his own father."
"Have we proven that?"
"You doubt that he did the thing?"
"No," Cehmai said after a moment's pause. "No, I don't." Rrit,lfaati- kt
o still does.
"It would be best to end this quickly. To name the new Khai before
things can get out of control. You are a man of tremendous power. I know
the Dai-kvo takes no sides in matters of succession. But if you were to
let it be known that you favored some particular house, without taking
any formal position, it would make things easier."
"Only if I backed a house that was prepared to win," Cehmai said. "If I
chose poorly, I'd throw some poor unprepared family in with the pit hounds."
"My family is ready. We are well respected, we have partners in all the
great trading houses, and the silversmiths and ironworkers are closer to
us than to any other family. Idaan is the only blood of the old Khai
remaining in the city. Her brothers will never be Khai Machi, but
someday, her son might."
Cehmai considered. Here was a man asking his help, asking for political
backing, unaware that Cehmai knew the shape and taste of his lover's
body as well as he did. It likely was in his power to elevate Adrah
Vaunyogi to the ranks of the Khaiem. He wondered if it was what Idaan
would want.
"That may be wise," Cehmai said. "I would need to think about it, of
course, before I could act."
Adrah put his hand on Cehmai's knee, familiar as if they were brothers.
The andat moved first, ambling toward the door, and then Cehmai stood
and adopted a pose appropriate to parting. The amusement coming from
Stone-Made-Soft was like constant laughter that only Cehmai could hear.
When they had made their farewells, Cehmai started cast again, toward
the burning bodies and the priests. His mind was a jumbleconcern for