"What brings you, Most High?" Farrer asked.
"I had heard rumors the decision to lend me your ships had perhaps
weakened your position in the council. I had hoped I could offer some
assistance."
Farrer drew on his pipe, then gestured out at the pond, the palaces, the
world. When he spoke, the pipe smoke made the words seem solid and gray.
"I've failed. I know that. I was bullied into agreeing to this union
between our houses, but so were half of the councillors. They can't
think less of me for that, except for the few who genuinely backed your
plan. They never thought much of me. And then I let myself be wheedled
into helping you, so those whose love Ana won in her little speech think
I'm ruled by the whims of a girl who hasn't seen twenty summers. The
damning thing is, I can't say they're wrong."
"You love her," Otah said.
"I love her too much," Farrer said. His expression was grim. "It keeps
me from knowing my own mind."
Otah's thoughts flickered for a moment, roving west to Idaan and her
hunt. He brought himself back with a conscious effort.
"The city you're helping to protect is precious," Otah said. "The people
whose lives you save won't think less of you for hearing wisdom from
your daughter."
"Yes," Farrer said with a chuckle, "but they aren't on the council, are
they."
"No," Otah said. "I understand that you are invested in sugar? There are
cane fields east of Saraykeht, but most of what we have comes from
Bakta. Much better land for it there. If Chaburi-Tan failed, we would
feel the effect here and all through the Westlands."
Farrer grunted noncommittally.
"It's surprising how much Baktan trade flows through Chaburi-Tan. Not so
much as through Saraykeht, but still a great deal. The island is easier
to approach. And it's a good site for any trade in the south. Obar
State, Eymond. Far Galt, for that. Did you know that nearly all the ore
from Far Galt passes through the port at Chaburi-Tan?"
"Less since you've raised the taxes."
"I don't set those taxes," Otah said. "I appoint the port's
administration. Usually they agree to pay a certain amount for the
privilege and then try to make back what they've spent before their term
ends."
"And how long are their terms?"
"As long as the Emperor is pleased to have them in that place," Otah
said. "So long as I think they've done a good job with maintaining the
seafront and keeping the flow of ships through, they may hold power for
years. Or, if they've mismanaged things, perhaps even required a fleet
to come out and save the city, they might be replaced."
The frown on Farrer's face was the most pleasant thing Otah had seen all
morning. The truth of the matter was that Otah no more liked the Galt
than he was liked by him. Their nations were old enemies, and however
much Otah and Issandra plotted, there was a way in which their
generation would die as enemies.