they sent their private ships and soldiers along with whatever you can
muster up, it might serve."
"At the cost of sending away what allies I have," Otah said.
"That would be the price of it," Balasar said. "Send away your friends,
and you're left eating with your enemies. It could poison the court
against us."
Us. At least the man had said us.
"Get them," Otah said. "Get whoever you can quickly, and then send for
me. I can't let another city die."
It only occurred to him as he stalked back through the wide stone halls
and softly glowing lanterns of the first palace that he had been
speaking to the man that had killed Udun and the village of the Daikvo,
the man who had maimed Nantani and Yalakeht.
The meeting chamber was empty when he reached it; Danat and Issandra had
gone. The cheese and apples and wine had been cleared away. The lanterns
had blown out. Otah called for a servant to fetch him food and light. He
sat, his annoyance and unease rising in his breast like the tide
climbing a sea cliff.
Ana Dasin and her petulant, self-important father were well on their way
to seeing both empires chewed away one bit at a time by pirates and
foreign conspiracies. And failing crops. And time. Childless years
growing one upon another like a winter with no promise of spring. There
were so many things to fix, so uncountably many things that had gone
wrong. He was the Emperor, the most powerful man in the cities of the
Khaiem, and he was tired to his heart.
When the food arrived-pork in black sauce, spiced rice, sugared apple,
wine and herbs-Otah was hardly hungry any longer. Moments after that,
Sinja finally arrived.
"Where have you been?" Sinja demanded. "I've been wandering around the
winter garden for half a hand looking for you."
"I should ask the same. I must have had half the servants in the palace
looking for you."
"I know. Six of them found me. It got inconvenient telling them all I
was busy. You need to come with me."
"You were busy?"
"Otah-cha, you need to come with me."
He breathed deeply and took a pose that commanded obedience. Sinja's
eyebrows rose and he adopted an answering pose that held nuances of both
query and affront.
"I have no intention of going anywhere until I have finished eating,"
Otah said. It embarrassed him to hear the peevishness in his voice, but
not so much as to unsay it. Sinja tilted his head, stepped forward, and
lifted one end of the table. The plates and bowl spun to the floor. One
shattered. Otah was on his feet with no memory of standing. His face
felt as warm as if he were looking into a fire. His ears filled with a
buzzing of rage.
Sinja took a step back.
"I can have you killed," Otah said. "You know I can have you killed."
"You're right," Sinja said. "That passed the mark. I apologize, Most