passive stupidity in Oshai's eyes annoyed her. Idaan raised her chin and
her brows, considering him as she would a garden slave. Adrah looked
back and forth between the two. The motion reminded her of a child
watching his parents fighting. When she spoke, she had to try not to spit.
"I would know where our plans stand," she said. "My father's ill, and I
hear more from Adrah and the palace slaves than from you."
"My apologies, great lady," Oshai said without a hint of irony. "It's
only that meetings with you are a risk, and written reports are
insupportable. Our mutual friends ..."
"The Galtic High Council," Idaan said, but Oshai continued as if she had
not spoken.
". . . have placed agents and letters of intent with six houses.
Contracts for iron, silver, steel, copper, and gold. The negotiations
are under way, and I expect we will be able to draw them out for most of
the summer, should we need to. When all three of your brothers die, you
will have been wed to Adrah, and between the powerful position of his
house, his connection with you, and the influence of six of the great
houses whose contracts will suddenly ride on his promotion to Khai, you
should be sleeping in your mother's bed by Candles Night."
"My mother never had a bed of her own. She was only a woman, remember.
Traded to the Khai for convenience, like a gift."
"It's only an expression, great lady. And remember, you'll be sharing
Adrah here with other wives in your turn."
"I won't take others," Adrah said. "It was part of our agreement."
"Of course you won't," Oshai said with a nod and an insincere smile. "My
mistake."
Idaan felt herself flush, but kept her voice level and calm when she spoke.
"And my brothers? Danat and Kaiin?"
"They are being somewhat inconvenient, it's true. They've gone to
ground. Frightened, I'm told, by your ghost brother Utah. We may have to
wait until your father actually dies before they screw up the courage to
stand against each other. But when they do, I will be ready. You know
all this, Idaan-cha. It can't be the only reason you've asked me here?"
The round, pale face seemed to harden without moving. "There had best be
something more pressing than seeing whether I'll declaim when told."
"Maati Vaupathai," Idaan said. "The Dai-kvo's sent him to study in the
library."
"Hardly a secret," Oshai said, but Idaan thought she read a moment's
unease in his eyes.
"And it doesn't concern your owners that this new poet has come for the
same prize they want? What's in those old scrolls that makes this worth
the risk for you, anyway?"
"I don't know, great lady," the assassin said. "I'm trusted with work of
this delicate nature because I don't particularly care about the points
that aren't mine to know."
"And the Galts? Are they worried about this Maati Vaupathai poking
through the library before them?"
"It's ... of interest," Oshai said, grudgingly.
"It was the one thing you insisted on," Idaan said, stepping toward the