"Do we have to keep tip that pretense?"
"I think we do, Kiyan-cha."
"I suppose," she said. And then a moment later, "No. You're right.
You're quite right. I don't know what I was thinking."
Liat considered Otah's wife-thin face, black hair shot with threads of
white, so little paint on her cheeks that Liat could see where the lines
that came with age had been etched by pain and laughter. There was an
intelligence in her face and, Liat thought, a sorrow. Kiyan took a deep
breath and seemed to pull herself back from whatever place her mind had
gone. She smiled.
"Otah has left the city with a problem," she said. "With so many men
gone, the business of things is hound to suffer. "There are crops that
need bringing in and others that need planting. Roofs need the tiles
repaired before autumn comes. There are still parts of the winter
quarters that haven't been cleaned out since we've all resurfaced. And
the men who coordinate those things or else who oversee the men who do
are all off with ()tali playing at war."
"'T'hat is a problem," Liat agreed, unsure why Kiyan had brought her
here to tell her this.
"I'm calling a Council of wives," Kiyan said. "I think we're referring
to it as an afternoon banquet, but I mean it to be more than light
gossip and sweet breads. I'm going to take care of Machi until Otah
comes hack. I'll see to it that we have food and coal to see us through
the winter."
If, Kiyan didn't need to say, we all live that long. Liat looked at her
hands and pressed the dark thoughts away.
""That seems wise," she said.
"I want you to come to the Council, Liat-cha. I want your help."
Liat looked up. Kiyan's whole attention was on her. It made her feel
awkward, but also oddly flattered.
"I don't know what I could do-"
"You're a woman of business. You understand schedules and how to
coordinate different teams in different tasks so that the whole of a
thing comes together the way it should. I understand that too, but
frankly most of these women would be totally lost. They've bent their
minds to face paints and robes and trading gossip and bedroom tricks,"
Kiyan said, and then immediately took a pose that asked forgiveness. "I
don't mean to make them sound dim. They aren't. But they're the product
of a Khai's court, and the things that matter there aren't things that
matter, if you see what I mean?"
"Quite well," Liat said with a chuckle.
Kiyan leaned forward and scooped up Liat's hand as if it were the most
natural thing to do.
"You helped Otah when he asked it of you. Will you help me now?"
The assent came as far as Liat's lips and then died there. She saw the
distress in Kiyan's eyes, but she couldn't say it.
"Why?" Liat whispered. "Why me? Why, when we are what we are to each other."
"When we're what to each other?"
"Women who've loved the same man," Liat said. "Mothers of ... of our