Seasons of War

don’t think any poet has ever gone to the binding without some sense he was jumping out of a tower in hopes of learning to fly on the way down.’
    ‘But the binding,’ Maati said. ‘We haven’t had time.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Cehmai said, turning to look at Maati. ‘I’ve been thinking about it. The draft you made. It’s as complex as some bindings I saw when I was training. The nuances support each other. The symbols seem to hang together. And the structure that deflects the price fits it. I think you’ve been working on this for longer than you think. Maybe since Saraykeht fell.’
    Maati looked out the snow door at their bright square of sky. His chest felt tight. He thought for a moment how sad it would be to have come this far and collapse now from a bad heart.
    ‘I remember when I was at the village the second time,’ Maati said. ‘After Saraykeht. After Liat left me. There was a teahouse at the edge of the village. Tanam Choyan’s place.’
    ‘High walls,’ Cehmai said. ‘And a red lacquer door to the back room. I remember the place. They always undercooked the rice.’
    ‘He did,’ Maati said. ‘I’d forgotten that. There was a standing game of tiles there. I remember once a boy came to play and didn’t know any of the rules. Not even what season led, or when two winds made a trump. He bet everything he had at the first tile. He knew he was in over his head, so he risked it all at once. He thought if he kept playing, then the men at the table who knew better than he did would strip him of every length of copper he had. If he put everything on one hand - well, someone had to win, and it might be him as well as anyone else. I understand now how he felt.’
    ‘Did he win?’
    ‘No,’ Maati said. ‘But I respected the strategy.’
    A trumpet blared out above them - Otah sending some signal among his men. Answering horns came from around the city. Maati could no more tell where they originated than guess how many snowflakes were in the wide air. Cehmai’s surprised breath caught his attention like a hook pulling at a fish. He turned to the man, and then followed his gaze to the stairway leading down to the tunnels. Eiah stood there, her ribs pumping hard, as if she’d run to reach them. Her hair was pulled back in a messy knot at the back. Her robes were bright green shot with gold.
    ‘Eiah-cha,’ Cehmai said, stepping toward her. ‘What are you doing here?’
    The girl looked up at Cehmai, stepping away from him as if she might run. Her gaze darted to Maati. He smiled and took a pose that was welcome and inquiry both. Eiah’s hands fluttered between half a dozen poses, settling on none of them.
    ‘They need physicians,’ she said. ‘People are going to get hurt. I don’t want to be useless. And . . . and I want to be here when you stop them. I helped with the binding as much as Cehmai did.’
    That was a gross untruth, but the girl delivered it with such conviction that Maati felt himself half-believing. He smiled.
    ‘You were supposed to go with Nayiit-cha and your brother,’ Maati said.
    Her mouth went small, her face pale.
    ‘I know,’ she said. Maati waved her closer, and she came to him, skirting around Cehmai as if she feared he would grab her and haul her away to where she was supposed to be. Maati sat on the cold stone floor and she sat with him.
    ‘It isn’t safe here,’ he said.
    ‘It’s safe enough that you can be here. And Papa-kya. And you’re the two most important men in the world.’
    ‘I don’t know that—’
    ‘He’s the Emperor. Even the Khai Cetani says so. And you’re going to kill all the Galts. There can’t be any place safer than with both of you. Besides, what if something happens and you need a physician?’
    ‘I’ll find one of the armsmen or a servant they can spare,’ Cehmai said. ‘We can at least have her safely—’
    ‘No,’ Maati said. ‘Let her stay. She reminds me why we’re doing this.’
    Eiah’s grin was the image of relief and joy. Of all the terrors and dangers arrayed before them, hers had been that she might be sent away. He took her hand and kissed it.
    ‘Go sit by the stairs,’ he said. ‘Don’t interrupt me, and if Cehmai-cha tells you to do something, you do it. No asking why, no arguing him out of it. You understand me?’
    Eiah flung her hands into a pose of acceptance.
    ‘And Eiah-kya. Understand what I’m doing has risks to it. If I die here - hush, now, let me finish. If I fail the binding