"That comes back to the issue," the Lord Convocate said. "What happens
when this impossible binding works?"
"As soon as it is bound it is freed." Balasar clapped his palms
together. "That fast."
"And the advantage of that?" the Lord Convocate said, though Balasar
could see the old man had already traced out the implications.
"Done well, with the right grammar, the right nuances, it will unbind
every andat there is when it goes. All of this was in my report to the
High Council."
The Lord Convocate nodded as he plucked a circle of dried apple from the
howl between them. When he spoke again, however, it was as if Balasar's
objection had never occurred.
"Assuming it works, that you can take the andat from the field of play,
what's to stop the Khaiem from having their poets make another andat and
loose it on Galt?"
"Swords," Balasar said. "As you said, fourteen cities in a single
season. None of them will have enough time. I have men in every city of
the Khaiem, ready to meet us with knowledge of the defenses and
strengths we face. 'T'here are agreements with mercenary companies to
support our men. Four well-equipped, well-supported forces, each taking
unfortified, poorly armed cities. But we have to start moving men now.
This is going to take time, and I don't want to he caught in the North
waiting to see which comes first, the thaw or some overly clever poet in
Cetani or Machi managing to hind something new. We have to move
quickly-kill the poets, take the libraries-"
"After which we can go about making andat of our own at our leisure,"
the Lord Convocate said. His voice was thoughtful, and still Balasar
sensed a trap. He wondered how much the man had guessed of his own plans
and intentions for the future of the andat.
"If that's what the High Council chooses to do," Balasar said, sitting
back. "All of this, of course, assuming I'm given permission to move
forward."
"Ah," the Lord Convocate said, lacing his hands over his belly. "Yes.
That will need an answer. Permission of the Council. A thousand things
could go wrong. And if you fail-"
"The stakes are no lower if we sit on our hands. And we could wait
forever and never see a better chance," Balasar said. "You'll forgive my
saving it, sir, but you haven't said no."
"No," he said, slowly. "No, I haven't."
"'T'hen I have the command, sir?"
After a moment, the Lord Convocate nodded.
3
"What's the matter?" Kiyan asked. She was already dressed in the silk
shift that she slept in, her hair tied back from her thin foxlike face.
It occurred to Otah for the first time just how long ago the sun had
set. He sat on the bed at her side and let himself feel the aches in his
back and knees.
"Sitting too long," he said. "I don't know why doing nothing should hurt
as badly as hauling crates."