"We've done that once already," Cehmai said. "It didn't go well."
"We didn't have time. The Galts were at our door. We did what we had to
do. And now we can correct our errors."
"Does my brother know about this?" Idaan asked.
"He refused me," Maati said.
"Is that why you hate him?"
The air around the table seemed to clench. Maati stared at the woman.
Idaan met his gaze with a level calm.
"He is selling us," Maati said. "He is turning away from a generation of
women whose injuries are as much his fault as ours."
"And is that why you hate him?" Idaan asked again. "You can't tell me
that you don't, Maati-cha. I know quite a lot about hatred."
He let my son die to save his, Maati thought but did not say. There were
a thousand arguments against the statement: Otah hadn't been there when
Nayiit died; it wasn't Danat's fault that his protector failed to fend
off the soldiers; Nayiit wasn't truly his son. He knew them all, and
that none of them mattered. Nayiit had died, Maati had been sent into
the wilderness, and Otah had risen like a star in the sky.
"What I feel toward your brother doesn't change what needs to be done,"
Maati said, "or the help I'll need to do it."
"Who's backing you?" Idaan said.
Maati felt a flash of surprise and even fear. An image of Eiah flickered
in his mind and was banished.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Someone's feeding you," she said. "Someone's hiding you and your
students. If the word got out that you'd been found, half the world
would send armsmen to cut you down for fear you'd do exactly what you're
doing now. And half of the rest would kick you to death for petty
vengeance. If it's not Otah protecting you, who is it? One of the high
families of the utkhaiem? A trading house? Who?"
"I have strong backing," Maati said. "But I won't tell you more than that."
"Every danger you face, my husband faces too," Idaan said. "If you want
him to take your risks, you have to tell him what protection you can offer."
"I have an ear in the palaces anytime I need it. Otah won't be able to
mount any kind of action against me without warning finding me. You can
trust to that."
"You have to tell us more," Idaan said.
"He doesn't," Cehmai said, sharply. "He doesn't have to offer me
protection because I'm not going to do the work. I'm done, love. I'm
finished. I want a few more years with you and a quiet death, and I'll
be quite pleased with that."
"The world needs you," Maati said.
"It doesn't," Cehmai said. "You've come a long way, Maati-kvo, and I've
disappointed you. I'm sorry for that, but you have my answer. I used to
be a poet, but I'm not anymore. I can reconsider as long as we both keep
breathing, and we'll come to the same place."
"We can't stay on here," Idaan said. Her voice was soft. "I've loved it
here too. This place, these years ... we've been lucky to have them. But
Maati-cha's right. This season, and perhaps five or ten after it, we'll