"I'm actually hoping for a life that doesn't require much blade work of me."
"I wasn't only talking about fighting."
When they reached the farmhouse, the stables had four unfamiliar horses
in them, hot from the road. An armsman of House Siyanti-one Otah
recognized, but whose name he'd never learned-was caring for them. Sinja
traded a knowing look with the man, then strode up the stairs to the
main rooms. Otah followed, his aches half-forgotten in the mingled
curiosity and dread.
Amiit Foss and Kiyan were sitting at the main table with two other men.
One-an older man with heavy, beetled brows and a hooked nose-wore robes
embroidered with the sun and stars of House Siyanti. The other, a young
man with round cheeks and a generous belly, wore a simple blue robe of
inexpensive cloth, but enough rings on his fingers to pay for a small
house. Their conversation stopped as Otah and Sinja entered the room.
Amiit smiled and gestured toward the benches.
"Well timed," Amiit said. "We've just been discussing the next step in
our little dance."
"What's the issue?" Sinja asked.
"The mourning's ending. Tomorrow, the heads of all the houses of the
utkhaiem meet. I expect it will take them a few days before the
assassinations start, but within the month it'll be decided who the new
Khai is to be."
"We'll have to act before that," Otah said.
"True enough, but that doesn't mean we'd be wise to act now," Amiit
said. "We know, or guess well enough, what power is behind all thisthe
Galts. But we don't know the mechanism. Who are they backing? Why? I
don't like the idea of moving forward without that in hand. And yet,
time's short."
Amiit held out his open hands, and Otah understood this choice was being
laid at his door. It was his life most at risk, and Amiit wasn't going
to demand anything of Otah that he wasn't prepared to do. Otah sat,
laced his fingers together, and frowned. It was Kiyan's voice that
interrupted his uncertainty.
"Either we stay here or we go to Machi. If we stay here, we're unlikely
to be discovered, but it takes half a day for us to get news, and half a
day at least to respond to it. Amiit-cha thinks the safety might be
worth it, but Lamara-cha," she gestured to the hook-nosed man, "has been
arguing that we'll want the speed we can only have by being present.
He's arranged a place for us to stay-in the tunnels below the palaces."
"I have an armsman of the Saya family in my employ," the hooknosed
Lamara said. His voice was a rough whisper, and Otah noticed for the
first time a long, deep, old scar across the man's throat. "The Saya are
a minor family, but they will be at the council. We can keep clear on
what's said and by whom."
"And if you're discovered, we'll all be killed," Sinja said. "As far as
the world's concerned, you've murdered a Khai. It's not a precedent
anyone wants set. Especially not the other Khaiem. Bad enough they have
to watch their brothers. If it's their sons, too...."
"I understand that," Otah said. Then, to Amiit, "Are we any closer to