"It won't help," the andat said again, then turned and lumbered up
beside the speaker's pulpit where Cehmai stood waiting for it. She
didn't look at her brother as he took the pulpit, only Cehmai. He didn't
look back at her. When Utah spoke, his words cut through the air, clean
and strong as wine.
"I am Otah 1MIachi, sixth son of the Khai Machi. I have never renounced
my claim to this place; I have never killed or plotted to kill my
brothers or my father. But I know who has, and I have come here before
this council to show you what has been done, and by whom, and to claim
what is mine by right."
Idaan closed her eyes and wept, surprised to find her desolation
complicated by relief.
"I NOTICE YOU NEVER MENTIONED THE MALTS," AM1IIT SAID.
The waiting area to which the protocol servant had led them was open and
light, looking out over a garden of flowering vines. A silver howl with
water cooling fresh peaches sat on a low table. Amiit leaned against the
railing. He looked calm, but Otah could see the white at the corners of
his mouth and the small movements of his hands; Amiit's belly was as
much in knots as his own.
"There was no call," Utah said. "The families that were involved know
that they were being used, and if they only suspect that I know it,
that's almost as good as being sure. How long are we going to have to wait?"
"Until they've finished deciding whether to kill you as a murderer or
raise you up as the Khai Maehi," Amiit said. "It shouldn't take long.
You were very good out there."
"You could sound more sure of all this."
"We'll be fine," Amiit said. "We have hacking. We have the poets."
"And yet?"
Amiit forced a chuckle.
"This is why I don't play tiles. Just before the tiles man turns the
last chit, I convince myself that there's something I've overlooked."
"I hope you aren't right this time."
"If I am, I won't have to worry about next. They'll kill me as dead as you.
Otah picked up a peach and hit into it. The fuzz made his lips itch, but
the taste was sweet and rich and complex. He sighed and looked out.
Above the garden wall rose the towers, and beyond them the blue of the sky.
"If we win, you will have to have them killed, you know," Amiit said.
"Adrah and his father. Your sister, Idaan."
"Not her."
"Otah-cha, this is going to be hard enough as it stands. The utkhaiem
are going to accept you because they have to. But you won't be hailed as
a savior. And Kiyan-cha's a common woman from no family. She kept a
wayhouse. Showing mercy to the girl who killed your father isn't going
to win you anyone's support."
"I am the Khai Machi," Otah said. "I'll make my way."
"You don't understand how complex this is likely to be."
Otah shrugged.
"I trust your advice, Amiit-cha," Otah said. "You'll have to trust my
judgment."