Seasons of War

In the dim flickering light from the fire grate, he let his mind wander.
    It was uncomfortable to think of Eiah in this place. It wasn’t only that she was angry with him, that she had chosen this path and not the one he preferred. All that was true, but it was also that this place was one part of his life and that she was another. The two didn’t belong together. He tried to imagine what he would have said to her, had she and Maati and the other students in Maati’s little school still been encamped there.
    The truth he could not admit to anyone was that he was relieved to have failed.
    The shadows at the fire grate seemed to grow solid, a figure crouching there. He knew it was an illusion. It wasn’t the first time his mind had tricked itself into imagining Kiyan after her death. He smiled at the vision of his wife, but the dream of her had already faded. It was a sign, and since it was both intended for him and created by his mind, it was perfectly explicable. If killing his daughter was the price it took to save the world, then the world could die. He took little comfort in the knowledge.
    In the morning, Danat woke him, grinning. A piece of paper flapped in the boy’s hand like a moth as Danat threw open the shutters and let the morning light spill in. Otah blinked, yawned, and frowned. Dreams already half-remembered were fading quickly. Danat dropped onto the foot of Otah’s cot.
    ‘I’ve found them,’ Danat said.
    Otah sat up, taking a pose that asked explanation. Danat held out the paper. The handwriting was unfamiliar to him, the characters wider than standard and softly drawn. He took the page and rubbed his eyes as if to clear them.
    ‘I was sleeping in one of the side rooms,’ Danat said. ‘When I woke up this morning, I saw that. It was in a corner, not even hidden. I don’t know how I missed it last night, except it was dark and I was tired.’
    Otah’s eyes able now to focus, his mind more fully awake, he turned his attention to the letter.
Ashti-cha—
We have decided to leave. Eiah says that Maati-kvo isn’t well, so we’re all going to Utani so that she can get help caring for him. Please, if you get this, you have to come back! Vanjit is just as bad as ever, and I’m afraid without you here to put her in her place, she’ll only get worse. Small Kae has started having nightmares about her. And the baby! You should see the way it tries to get away. It slipped into my lap last night after the Great Poet had gone to sleep and curled up like a kitten.
They’ve almost finished loading the cart. I’m going to sneak back in once we’re almost under way so that she won’t find it. You have to come back! Meet us in Utani as soon as you can.
    The letter was signed Irit Laatani. Otah folded the paper and tapped it against his lips, thinking. It was plausible. It could be a trick to send them off to Utani, but that would mean that they knew where Otah and his party were, and the errand they were on. If that was the case, there was no reason for misleading them. Vanjit and her little Blindness could stop any pursuit if she wanted it. Danat coughed expectantly.
    ‘Utani,’ Otah said. ‘They’re going north, just the way you’d planned. This is where you tell me how clever you were for heading there at the first?’
    Danat laughed, shaking his head.
    ‘You were right, Papa-kya. Coming here was the right thing. If Maati wasn’t ill, they’d have been here.’
    ‘Still. It does mean they’ve stopped hiding. That’s a risk if they’ve only got one poet.’
    Danat took a questioning pose.
    ‘This poet,’ Otah said. ‘She’s their protection and their power. As long as she has the andat in her control, they think that they’re safe. In truth, though, she can only defend against things she knows. As long as there is only one poet, a well-placed man with a bow could end her before she could blind him. And then none of them are defended.’
    ‘Unless there’s a second binding. Another andat,’ Danat said, and Otah took a confirming pose. Danat frowned. ‘But if there had been, then Irit would have said so, wouldn’t she? If Eiah had managed to capture Wounded?’
    ‘I’d expect her to, yes,’ Otah said.
    ‘Then why would they go?’
    Otah tapped the letter.
    ‘Just what the woman said. Because Maati’s ill,’ he said. ‘And because Eiah decided that caring for him was worth the risk. If he’s bad enough to need other physicians’ help, they may well be going slowly.