Seasons of War

Vanjit moved forward and lifted it back up before she went on.
    ‘You wouldn’t let someone you can’t trust bind the andat. You wouldn’t do that.’
    ‘Certainly, I’d try not to,’ Maati said.
    ‘That’s a strange answer.’
    ‘I’m not a god. I use the judgment I have. It isn’t as if I can see into someone’s heart.’
    ‘But if you think Eiah can’t be trusted,’ Vanjit said, anger growing in her voice, ‘you will stop her. You have to.’
    Who am I speaking to? he wondered. The girl? The andat? Does Vanjit know what she’s saying?
    ‘Yes,’ Maati said slowly. ‘If she isn’t fit to be a poet to wield the andat, it would be my duty to see that she does not. I will stop her. But I have to be sure. I can’t do this thing until I’m sure there’s nothing I can do that will mend her.’
    ‘Mend her?’ Vanjit said and took a pose that scorned the thought.
    ‘I won’t kill someone unless there is no other way.’
    Vanjit stepped back, her face going pale. The andat’s gaze shifted from one to the other and back, its eyes shining with unfeigned delight.
    ‘I never said to kill her,’ Vanjit said, her voice soft.
    ‘Didn’t you?’ Maati said as if making it an accusation. ‘You’re sure of that?’
    He turned and left the room, his hands trembling, his heart racing.
    He’d been an idiot. He’d slipped. Perhaps making him say more than he’d intended had been the point; perhaps the andat had guessed that it could make him go too far. He paused in the main room, his head feeling light. He sat at one of the tables and lowered his head to his knees.
    His heart was still pounding, and his face felt hot and flushed. The voices of the keeper and Irit seemed to echo, as if he were hearing them from the far end of a tunnel. He gritted his teeth, willing his body to calm itself, to obey him.
    Slowly, his pulse calmed. The heat in his face lessened. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting at the little table by the back wall. It seemed like only moments and it also seemed like half the day. Both were plausible. He tried to stand, but he was weak and shaking. Like a man who’d just run a race.
    He motioned to the keeper and asked for strong tea. The man brought it quickly enough. A cast-iron pot in the shape of a frog, the spigot a hollow tongue between its lips. Maati poured the rich, green tea into a carved wooden bowl and sat for a moment, breathing in the scent of it before trying to lift it to his lips.
    By the time Irit arrived, he felt nearly himself again. Exhausted and weak, but himself. The woman sat across from him, her fingers knotted about one another. Her smile was too wide.
    ‘Maati-kvo,’ she said and belatedly took a pose of greeting. ‘I’ve just come from the riverfront. Eiah has hired a boat. It looks like a good one. Wide enough that it isn’t supposed to rock so much. Or get stuck on sandbars. They talked a bit about sandbars. In any case—’
    ‘What’s the matter?’
    Irit looked out toward the main room as if expecting to see someone there. She spoke without looking at him.
    ‘I’m not ever going to make a binding, Maati-kvo. I may have helped, I may not. But we both know I’m not going to do the thing.’
    ‘You want to leave,’ Maati said.
    She did look at him now, her mouth small, her eyes large. She was like a picture of herself drawn by someone who thought poorly of her.
    ‘Take your things,’ Maati said. ‘Do it before we get on the river.’
    She took a pose that accepted his orders, but the fear remained in the way she held her body. Maati nodded to himself.
    ‘I’ll tell Vanjit that I’ve sent you on an errand for me. That Eiah needed some particular root that only grows in the south. You’re to meet us with it in Utani. She won’t know the truth.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Irit said, relief in her expression at last. ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘Hurry,’ Maati said. ‘There isn’t much time.’
    Irit scuttled out, her hands fluttering as if they possessed a life of their own. Maati sat quietly in the growing darkness, sipped his tea, and tried to convince himself that his strength was coming back. He’d let himself get frightened, that was all. It wasn’t as if he’d fainted. He was fine. By the time Eiah and Small Kae came to collect Vanjit and Clarity-of-Sight, he mostly believed it.
    Eiah accepted the news of Irit’s departure without comment. The two Kaes glanced at each other and kept loading their few remaining crates onto the