a wrung towel and all the great problems he faced would still be unsolved.
He instructed that the priest be forbidden, the trading houses be
referred to Sinja-cha and the Master of Chains, who could renegotiate
terms but not break the contract, and then dictated a common response to
the three letters offering up new wives for Danat that neither
encouraged nor refused them. All this before the breakfast of
fresh-brewed tea, spiced apples, and seared pork had appeared.
He had hardly begun to eat when the Master of Tides returned with a sour
expression and took a pose that asked forgiveness, but pointedly did not
suggest that the offending party was the Master of Tides herself.
"Most High, Balasar Gice is requesting to join you. I have suggested
that he apply for an audience just as anyone else, but he seems to
forget that his conquest of Saraykeht was temporary."
"You'll treat Balasar-cha with respect," Otah said, though he couldn't
quite keep from smiling. And then a breath later, his chest tightened.
Something bloody and extreme. And effective. What if the general had
heard Idaan's news? "See him in. And bring another bowl for tea."
The Master of Tides took a pose that accepted the command.
"A clean bowl," Otah added to the woman's back.
Balasar followed all the appropriate forms when the servants escorted
him back. Otah matched him, and then gestured for all the others to
leave. When they were alone, Balasar lowered himself to the cushion on
the floor, took the bowl of tea and the bit of pork that Otah offered
him, and stretched out. Otah watched the man's face and body, but there
was no sign there that he'd heard of Idaan's arrival or of her news.
"I've had a couple of discreet conversations," Balasar said.
"Yes?"
"About taking a fleet to Chaburi-Tan?"
Otah nodded. Of course. Of course that was what they were meeting about.
"And what have you found?" Otah asked.
"It can be done, but there are two ways to go about it. We have enough
men to make a small, effective fighting force. Eight ships, perhaps,
fully armed and provisioned. I wouldn't go to war on it, but it would
outman most raiding parties."
Otah sipped his tea. The water wasn't quite hot enough to scald.
"The other way?"
"We can use the same number to man twenty ships. A mixed force, ours and
your own. Throw on as many men as we can find who are well enough to
stand upright. It would actually be easier to defeat in a battle. The
men who knew what they were about would be spread thin, and amateurs are
worse than nothing in a sea fight. But weigh it against the sight of
twenty ships. The pirates would be mad to come against us in force."
"Unless they know we're all lights and empty show," Otah said. "There
are suggestions that the mercenaries we have at Chaburi-Tan are working
both sides."
Balasar sucked his teeth.
"That makes it harder," he agreed.
"How long would you need?" Otah asked.
"A week for the smaller force. Twice that for the larger."