Seasons of War

Eiah’s opinion of his health, Vanjit’s escalating unreliability. The story took on a rhythm as he told it, the words putting themselves in order as if he had practiced it all before. Idaan didn’t speak, but her listening was intense, drawing detail from him almost against his will.
    It was as if he were telling himself what had happened, offering a kind of confession to the empty night, Idaan Machi - of all people in the world, Idaan Machi - as his intercessor.
    He reached the end - Vanjit’s discovery of the poison, her escape, his decision to find help. Somewhere in the course of things, he’d let himself slip to the ground, sitting with his legs stuck out before him and the stone paving leaching the warmth from his body. Idaan squatted beside him. He imagined that the manner of her listening had softened, as if silences could differ like speech.
    ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Well. Who’d have thought this would become worse?’
    ‘You led him to us,’ Maati said.
    ‘I did my best,’ Idaan agreed. ‘It’s been years since I put my hand to this kind of work. I’m out of practice, but I did what I could.’
    ‘All to regain his imperial favor,’ Maati said. ‘I would never have guessed that you’d become his toady.’
    ‘Actually, I started it to protect Cehmai,’ Idaan said as if he had offered her no insult. ‘With you stirring up the mud, I was afraid for him. I wanted Otah to know that he wasn’t part of it. And then, once I was at the court . . . well, I had amends to make to Danat.’
    ‘The boy?’
    ‘No. The one he’s named for,’ Idaan said. She heaved a great sigh. ‘But back to the matter at hand, eh? I understand how hard and confusing it is to love someone you hate. I really do. And if you call me his toady again, I swear by all the gods there ever were, I’ll disjoint your fingers. Understood?’
    ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,’ Maati said. ‘I wanted to heal the world, not . . . not this.’
    ‘Plans go awry,’ Idaan said. ‘It’s their nature. I’m going back in. Join us when you’re ready. I’ll get something warm for you to drink.’
    Maati sat alone, growing colder. Behind him, the wayhouse ticked as the day’s heat radiated away. An owl gave its low coo to the world, and the darkness around him seemed to lessen. He could make out the paving stones, the outline of the stable, the high branches rising toward the stars like thin fingers. Maati rested his head against the wall and let his eyes close.
    The trembling had stopped. The anger was less immediate, chagrin slowly taking its place. He heard Eiah’s calm voice, as solid as stone, from within. He should be with her. He should be at her side. She shouldn’t have to face them by herself. He rose, grunting, and lumbered inside, his knees aching.
    Otah was sitting in a low wooden chair, his fingers pressed to his lips in thought. He glanced up as Maati stepped into the room but made no other acknowledgment. Eiah, speaking, gestured to the space between Otah and Danat. Her voice had neither rancor nor apology, and Maati was reminded again why he admired her.
    ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘the andat outplayed us. From the beginning with Ashti Beg to the end with me, we wanted to think of it as a baby. We all knew it wasn’t. We all understand perfectly well that it was some part of Vanjit’s mind made flesh, but . . .’
    She raised her hands, palms out. Not a formal pose, but the gesture was eloquent enough.
    ‘So what does it want?’ Danat said. ‘If it truly wants Vanjit killed, why didn’t it help you? That would have done all it wanted to do.’
    ‘It may want more than freedom,’ Idaan said, speaking over her shoulder as she pressed a warm bowl into Maati’s hand. ‘There’s precedent. Seedless wanted his freedom, but he also wanted his poet to suffer. Clarity-of-Sight may want something for Vanjit besides death.’
    ‘Such as?’ Large Kae asked.
    ‘Punishment,’ Eiah suggested. ‘Or isolation. Or . . .’
    ‘Or a sense of family,’ Ashti Beg said, her voice oddly contemplative. ‘If we think of the babe as having more than one agenda, this could be its way of making a world that was only mother and child. Alienating all the rest of us.’
    ‘But it also wants its freedom,’ Maati said. Small Kae shifted on her bench at the sound of his voice, making room for him. He moved forward and sat. ‘Whatever else it wants, it must want that.’
    A puff of smoke escaped from the fire