toward a pose of query, but the porcelain howl defeated him. Otah took
his meaning anyway.
"Not just this one. The last Dai-kvo. "lahi, his name was. And the one
before that. All of them. This is their fault. We trusted everything in
the andat. Our power, our wealth, the safety of our children.
Everything. We built on sand. We were stupid."
"But it worked for so long."
"It worked until it didn't," Otah said. The response came from the back
of his mind, as if it had always been there, only waiting for the time
to speak. "It was always certain to fail sometime. Now, or ten
generations from now. What difference does it make? If we'd been able to
postpone the crisis until my children had to face it, or my
grandchildren, or your grandchildren-how would that have been better
than us facing it now? The andat have always been an unreliable tool,
and poets have always been men with all the vanity and frailty and
weakness that men are born with. The Empire fell, and we built ourselves
in its image and so now we've fallen too. "There's no honor in a lesson
half-learned."
"Too had you hadn't said that to the I)ai-kvo."
"I did. To all three of them, one way and another. "They didn't take it
to heart. And I ... I didn't stay to press the point."
"Then we'll have to learn the lesson now," Nayiit said. It sounded like
an attempt at resolution, perhaps even bravery. It sounded hollow as a drum.
"Someone will," Otah said. "Someone will learn by our example. And maybe
the Galts burned all the hooks that would have let them teach more poets
of their own. Perhaps they're already safe from our mistakes."
""That would he ironic. To come all this way and destroy the thing that
you'd come for."
"Or wise. It might he wise." Otah sighed and took another mouthful of
the wheat. ""I'he Galts are likely almost to "Ian-Sadar by now. As long
as they're heading south, we may he able to reach Machi again before
they do. There's no fighting them, I think we've discovered that, but we
might be able to flee. Get people to Eddensca and the Westlands before
the passes all close. It's probably too late to take a fast cart for Bakta."
Nayiit shook his head.
"They aren't going south."
Otah took another mouthful. The food seemed to he seeping into his
blood; he felt only half-dead with exhaustion. Then, a breath or two
later, Nayiit's words found their meaning, and he frowned, put down his
bowl, and took a questioning pose. Nayiit nodded down toward the low
towns at the base of the mountain village.
"I was talking with one of the footmen. The Galts came up the river from
Yalakeht, and they left heading North on the road to Amnat-Tan. They're
likely only a day or so ahead of us. It doesn't seem like they're
interested in Tan-Sadar."
"Why not?" Otah said, more than half to himself. "It's the nearest city.,,
"Marshes," a low voice said from behind them. The blacksmith, Saya, had
come up behind them. "There's decent roads between here and Amnat-Tan.
And then the North Road between all the winter cities. Tan-Sadar's