A rattle came from the door, and then a polite scratching, and Cehmai,
Nlaati, and Liat came in the room. "Their faces were flushed, and
Nlaati's breath was heavy as if he'd been running. Otah frowned. He
wouldn't have chosen to have Ifiat here, but she'd helped Kiyan with the
preparations of the city and the quartering of the refugees of Cetani,
so perhaps it was for the best after all. I Ic took a general pose of
greeting.
"What's ... happened," \Iaati wheezed.
"Wc have a problem," Otah said.
"The Galts?" Liat asked.
"'l'en thousand of them," Kiyan said, speaking for the first time since
Stnja had begun his report. I ler voice was solid as stone. "Foot
soldiers and archers and horsemen. They won't reach its today. But
tomorrow, perhaps. 'T'hree days at the most."
Nlaati's face went white and he sat down hard, like a puppet whose
strings had been cut. I,iat and Cchmai didn't move to help him. The room
was silent except for the murmur of the fire. Otah let the moment pass.
"There was nothing he could say just now that they wouldn't think for
themselves in the next few heartbeats. Cehmai recovered the fastest, his
brows rising, his mouth going tight and hard.
"What do we do?" the younger poet asked.
"We have some advantages," Otah said. "We outnumber them. We know the
city. We're in a position to defend, and holding a city's easier than
forcing your way in."
"On the other hand," Sinja said, "they're soldiers. You aren't. They
know that they need shelter from the cold and need it quickly. Taking
Machi's their only option. And they know a fair amount about the city as
well."
"You told them that too?" Otah asked.
""They've had their agents and traders in all the cities for
generations," Kiyan said softly. "They've put their hands in our
affairs. They've walked the streets and sat in the bathhouses. They have
trading houses that wintered here when your father was Khai."
"Not to mention the several hundred native guides working for them who
aren't me," Sinja said. "I was leading a militia, you'll recall. I've
left as many as I could behind, but they've had a season to get any
information they wanted."
Otah raised his hands in a pose that abandoned his point. He had the
feeling of trembling that he remembered from the aftermath of his
battles. From hearing Danat's struggles to breathe when his cough had
been at its worst. It wasn't time to feel; he couldn't afford to feel.
He tried to push the fear and despair away; he couldn't. It was in his
blood now.
"I can try," Nlaati said. "I'll have to try."
"You have a binding ready?" Sinja asked.
"Not ready," Cehmai said. "We have it in outline. It would need weeks to
refine it."
"I'll try," Maati said. His voice was stronger now. His lips were pulled
thin. "But I don't know that it will help if it comes to a battle. If it