everything about the scheme, but I miss him."
"I do too," Maati said.
"You also hate him," she said. There was no place in this room for
half-truths.
"That too," Maati agreed.
Dinner that night was a brace of quail Large Kae had trapped. The flesh
was soft and rich. Maati sat at the head of the long table, Vanjit and
Clarity-of-Sight at the far end, and plucked the delicate bones. The
bright chattering voices of Small Kae and Irit seemed distant, the dry
wit of Ashti Beg grim. Eiah also seemed subdued, but it might only have
been that she was thinking of the binding. The meal seemed to last
forever, and yet he found himself surprised when Ashti Beg gathered up
the bowls and the talk shifted to cleanup chores.
"I don't think I can," Vanjit said, her voice apologetic. "I assumed
that we had changed the rotation."
"We skipped you last time, if that's what you mean," Ashti Beg said. "I
don't know if that's the same as agreeing to wait on you."
There was laughter in the older woman's voice, but it had teeth. Small
Kae was smiling a fixed smile and staring at the table. If he hadn't
been so distracted, Maati would have seen this coming before it arrived.
"I don't think I can, though," Vanjit said, still firmly in her seat.
The thing on her lap shifted its gaze from the poet to Ashti Beg and
back as if fascinated.
"I seem to recall my mother keeping the house even when she had a babe
on her hip," Ashti Beg said. "But she always was unusually talented."
"I have the andat. That's more work than washing dishes," Vanjit said.
"At court, poets are forgiven other duties, aren't they, Maati-kvo?"
"The smallest brat of the utkhaiem is forgiven their duties," Ashti Beg
said before Maati could frame a reply. "That's why it's court. Because
some people set themselves above others."
The air was suddenly heavy. Maati stood, unsure what he was about to
say. Irit's sudden chirp saved him.
"Oh, it isn't much. No need to fuss about it. I'll be happy to do the
thing. No, Vanjit-cha, don't get up. If you don't feel up to doing it,
you ought not strain yourself."
The last words rose at the end as if they were a question. Maati nodded
as if something had been decided, then walked out of the hall. Vanjit
followed without speaking, and took herself and her small burden down a
side hall and out to the gardens. Maati could hear the voices of the
others as they cleaned away the remnants of the small, fallen birds.
They met as they always did, sitting in a rough circle and discussing
the fine points of binding the andat. There was no sign of the earlier
conflict; Vanjit and Ashti Beg treated each other with their customary
kindness and respect. Eiah explained the difference between accident,
intention, and consequence of design to Irit and Small Kae and, Maati
thought, learned by the experience. By the warm, soft light of the
lanterns, they might have been talking of anything. By the end, there
was even real laughter.
It should have been a good evening, but as he went back toward his bed,