understand that?"
The man took an apologetic pose, but Otah pressed.
"I asked whether you understood, not whether you were regretful."
"I understand, Most High," the man muttered.
"The potters will have to work clay until some other accommodation can
be made," Otah said. "With proper control, this will be an
inconvenience, not a catastrophe. The city is wounded, yes. We all know
that, and I won't have that made worse by panic. I expect each of you to
stand with your Khai, and make your people know that there is nothing to
fear. The contracts directly affected by this loss will be brought to me
personally. I will see to it that any losses are recompensed so that no
one family or house carries more of this burden than its share. And any
contracts not directly affected by the andat's absence are still in
force. Do each of you understand that?"
A low chorus of affirmation rose. They sounded as reluctant as boys
before a tutor.
"Also I have put armsmen on the bridge. Any house who chooses this time
to relocate its wealth to some other city will forfeit their holdings
here. Any silver over a hundred lengths that leaves Machi at one time
must be allowed by me."
Ashua Radaani took a pose that begged permission to speak. It was proper
etiquette, and Otah felt the tightness in his chest release by half a
turn. At least they were now respecting forms.
"Most High," Radaani said, "this may not be the best time to put
restrictions on trade. Machi will need to keep its ties to the other
cities strong if we're to weather this tragedy."
"If the smaller houses see carts of gold rolling away to Cetani and
tldun, they'll start talking of how the rats all run when the house
catches fire," Otah said. "My house hasn't caught fire."
Radaani pursed his lips, his eyes shifting as if reading some invisible
text as he reconsidered some internal plan that Otah had just ruined,
but he said nothing more.
"Machi needs your loyalty and your obedience," Otah said. "You are all
good men, and the leaders of respected families. Understand that I value
each of you, and your efforts to keep the peace in this time will he
remembered and honored."
And the first of you to bolt, I will destroy and sow your lands with
salt, Otah thought but didn't say. He let his eyes carry that part of
the message, and from the unease in the men before him, he knew that
they had understood. For over a decade, they had thought themselves
ruled by a softhearted man, an upstart put in his father's chair by
strange fortune and likely less suited to the role than his lady wife,
the innkeep. And as terrible as this day was, Otah found he felt some
small joy in suggesting they might have been mistaken.
Once they had been dismissed, Otah waved away his servants and walked to
his private apartments. Kiyan came to him, taking his hand in her own.
Cehmai sat on the edge of a low couch, his face still empty with shock.
He had been weeping openly when Otah left.
"How did it go?" Kiyan asked.