"Marriage brokers," Eiah said as if the terms were the same. "They've
been traveling the low towns making lists of men in want of Galtic
peasant girls to act as brood mares for their farms. Apparently eight
lengths of copper will put a man's name on the list to travel to Galt.
Two of silver for the list to haul a girl here."
Maati felt his belly twist. It had gone further than he had dared think.
"Most of them are lying, of course," Eiah said. "Taking money from the
desperate and moving on. I don't know how many of them there are out
there. Hundreds, I would guess. But, Maati-cha, the night I left? All of
the Galts lost their sight. All of them, and at once. No one cares any
longer what's happened with my brother and the girl he was supposed to
marry. No one talks about the Emperor. All anyone cares about is the
andat. They know that some poet somewhere has bound Blindness or
something like it and loosed it against the Galts."
It was as if the air had gone from the room, as if Maati were suddenly
on a mountaintop. His breath was fast, his heart pounding. It might have
been joy or fear or something of each.
"I see," Maati said.
"Uncle, they hate us. All those farmers and traders and shepherds? All
those men who thought that they would have wives and children? All those
women who thought that even if it hadn't come from their body, at least
there would be a baby nearby to care for? They think we've taken it from
them. And I have never seen so much rage."
Maati felt as if he'd been struck, caught in the moment between the blow
and the bloom of pain. He said something, words stringing together
without sense and trailing to silence. He put his face in his hands.
"You didn't know," Eiah said. "She didn't tell you."
"Vanjit's done this," Maati said. "She can undo it. I can . . ." He
stopped, catching his breath. He felt as if he'd been running. His hands
trembled. When Eiah spoke, her voice was as level and calm as a
physician's announcing a death.
"Twice."
Maati turned to her, his hands taking a pose of query. Eiah put her hand
on the table, papers shifting under her fingers with a sound like sand
against glass.
"This is twice, Maati-cha. First with Ashti Beg, and now ... Gods. Now
with all of Galt."
"Is this why Ashti Beg left?" Maati asked. "The true reason?"
"The true reason is that she was afraid of Vanjit," Eiah said. "And I
couldn't reassure her."
"Children," Maati said. The pain in his chest was easing, the shock of
the news fading away. "I'll speak with Vanjit. She did this all. She can
undo it as well. And ... and it does speak to the purpose. We wanted to
announce that the andat had returned to the world. She's done that in no
small voice."
"Maati-cha," Eiah began, but he kept talking, fast and loud.
"This is why they did it, you know All those tests and lies and
opportunities to prove ourselves. Or fail to prove ourselves. They broke
us to the lead first, and gave us power when they knew we could be