Otah took a pose of query.
"Ile died half a month ago, trying to regain his andat," the Khai Cetani
said. "His skin went black as a new bruise and his bones all shattered.
I have no poet. All I have is a city, and I won't give it away for nothing!"
The Khai Cetani's words ended in a shout. His face was red with fury.
And with fear. There was no more that Otah could say now that would sway
him, but years in the gentleman's trade had taught Otah something about
negotiations that the Khaiem had never known. lie nodded and took a pose
that formally withdrew him from the conversation.
"You and your men will stay here," the Khai Cetani said, continuing to
speak despite Otah's gesture. "We will make our stand here, at Cetani.
We will not fall."
"You will," Otah said. "And my men will leave in the morning, with me.
The Khai Cetani was breathing fast, as if he had run a race. Otah took a
pose of farewell, then turned and strode from the garden. To the east,
clouds darkened the horizon. The scent of coming rain touched the air.
Otah's armsmen and servants fell in with him. The eyes of Cetani's
utkhaiem were on the little procession as Otah walked to the apartments
granted him by the Khai. He was a curiosity-one of the Khaiem walking
with the swagger of a man who'd sat too long on a horse, his retinue
looking more like a mercenary captain's crew than courtiers. And Otah
suspected that martial air, however undeserved, would serve him. He
scowled the way he imagined Sinja might have in his place.
Ashua Radaani was sitting at the fire grate deep in conversation with
Saya the blacksmith when Otah entered the wide hall that served as the
center of the visitors' palace. Battle and loss and the common enemy of
Galt had mixed with the shared recognition of competence to make the two
men something like friends. They stood and took poses of respect and
welcome that Otah waved away. He sat on a low cushion by the fire and
sent his servant boy to find them tea and something to eat.
"It didn't go well, I take it," Radaani said.
"It didn't go well and it didn't go badly," Otah said. "He's smart
enough to be frightened. "That's good. I was afraid he'd be certain of
himself. But his poet's dead. "Tried to recapture his andat and paid its
price."
Radaani sighed.
"Did he agree to your plan, Most High?" Saya asked.
"No," Otah said. "tie's determined that Cetani not fall without a fight.
I've told him we're leaving with him or without him. How was your
hunting, Ashua-cha?"
Radaani leaned forward. His features were thinner than they had been in
Machi, and the ring he turned on his finger wasn't so snug as it had
once been.
"The court's frightened," he said. "There are a few people who came here
from Yalakeht, and the stories ... well, either they've grown in the
telling, or it wasn't pretty there. And the couriers from Amnat- 'l an
haven't come the last two days."
""I'hat's bad," Otah said. "Will we have time, do you think?"
"I don't know," Ashua said. He seemed to search for more words, but in