Cehmai turned north, the wind blowing gently into his face, drawing his
robes out behind him as if he were walking through water. A slave girl
was standing beside the path singing an old love song, her high, sweet
voice carrying like a flute's. Cehmai felt Maati-kvo's attention, but
wasn't sure what to make of it. He felt as examined as the corpse on the
physician's table. At length, he spoke to break the silence.
"How is it?"
"The council? Like a very long, very awkward dinner party. I imagine it
will deteriorate. The only interesting thing is that a number of houses
are calling for Vaunyogi to take the chair."
"Interesting," Cehmai said. "I knew Adrah-cha was thinking of it, but I
wouldn't have thought his father had the money to sway many people."
"I wouldn't have either. But there are powers besides money."
The comment seemed to hang in the air.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Maati-kvo."
"Symbols have weight. The wedding coming as it does might sway the
sentimental. Or perhaps Vaunyogi has advocates we aren't aware of."
"Such as?"
Maati stopped. They had reached a wide courtyard, rich with the scent of
cropped summer grass. The andat halted as well, its broad head tilted in
an attitude of polite interest. Cehmai felt a brief flare of hatred
toward it, and saw its lips twitch slightly toward a smile.
"If you've spoken for the Vaunyogi, I need to know it," Matti said.
"We're not to take sides in these things. Not without direction from the
Dai-kvo."
"I'm aware of that, and I don't mean to accuse you or pry into what's
not mine, but on this one thing, I have to know. They did ask you to
speak for them, didn't they?"
"I suppose," Cehmai said.
"And did you speak for them?"
"No. Why should I?"
"Because Idaan Machi is your lover," Maati said, his voice soft and full
of pity.
Cehmai felt the blood come into his face, his neck. The anger at
everything that he had seen and heard pressed at him, and he let himself
borrow certainty from the rage.
"Idaan Machi is Adrah's wife. No, I did not speak for Vaunyogi. Despite
your experience, not everyone falls in love with the man who's taken his
lover."
Maati leaned back. The words had struck home, and Cehmai pressed on,
following the one attack with another.
"And, forgive me, Maati-cha, but you seem in an odd position to take me
to task for following my private affairs where they don't have a place.
You are still doing all this without the l)ai-kvo's knowledge?"
"He might have a few of my letters," Nlaati-kvo said. "If not yet, then
soon."
"But since you're a man under those robes, on you go. I am doing as the
Dai-kvo set me to do. I am carrying this great bastard around; I am
keeping myself apart from the politics of the court; I'm not willing to