Seasons of War

over - and it seemed to take half a day, though it couldn’t have lasted more than half a hand - Otah thanked the man, ordered that payment be made to him, and waited calm and emotionless until the servants and court followers had gone. Only the body servants remained, half a dozen men and women of the utkhaiem who dedicated their lives to bringing him a cracker if he felt like one, or a cup of limed water.
    ‘Find Eiah and take her to the blue chamber. Bring her under guard if you have to.’
    ‘Under guard?’ the eldest of the servants said.
    ‘No, don’t. Just bring her. See that she gets there.’
    ‘Most High,’ the man said, taking a pose that accepted the command. Otah rose and walked out of the room without replying. He stalked the halls of the palace, ignoring the Master of Tides and his ineffectual flapping papers, ignoring the poses of obeisance and respect turned to him wherever he went, looking only for Kiyan. The rest of these people were unimportant.
    He found her in the great kitchens, standing beside the chief cook with a dead chicken in her hands. The cook, a woman of not less than sixty summers who had served Otah’s father and grandfather, met his eyes and went pale. He wondered belatedly how many times the previous Khaiem of Machi had visited their kitchens, great or low.
    ‘What’s happened?’ Kiyan asked instead of a greeting.
    ‘Not here,’ Otah said. His wife nodded, passed the bird’s carcass back to the cook, and followed Otah to their rooms. As calmly as he could, Otah related the audience. Eiah and two of her friends - Talit Radaani and Shoyen Pak - had visited a jeweler’s shop in the goldsmiths’ quarter. Eiah had stolen a brooch of emerald and pearl. The jeweler and his boy had seen it, had come to the court asking for payment.
    ‘He was quite polite about the whole thing,’ Otah said. ‘He cast it as a mistake. Eiah-cha, in her girlish flights of attention, forgot to arrange for payment. He was sorry to bother me with it, but he hadn’t been sure who I would prefer such issues be taken to and on and on and on. Gods!’
    ‘How much was it?’ Kiyan asked.
    ‘Three lengths of gold,’ Otah said. ‘Not that it matters. I’ve got the whole city to put on for taxes and half a thousand bits of jewelry in boxes that no one’s worn in lifetimes. It’s . . . She’s a thief! She’s going through the city, taking whatever catches her eye and . . .’
    Otah ran out of words and had to make do with a rough, frustrated grunt. He threw himself down on a couch, shaking his head.
    ‘It’s my fault,’ he said. ‘I’ve been too busy with the court. I haven’t been a decent father to her. All the time she’s spent with the daughters of the utkhaiem, playing idiot court games about who has the prettiest dress or the most servants—’
    ‘Or the highest marriage,’ Kiyan said.
    Otah put his hand over his eyes. That was more than he could think about just now. How to correct his daughter, how to show her what she’d done wasn’t right, how to try to be a father to her; yes, that he could sit with. That it was too late, that she was already old enough to be another man’s wife; that was too much to bear.
    ‘It’s a problem, love, yes,’ Kiyan said. ‘But sweet. She’s fourteen summers old. She stole a pretty thing to see if she could. It’s not actually unusual. I was a year older than her when my father caught me sneaking apples off the back of a farmer’s cart.’
    ‘And did he marry you off to the farmer in punishment?’
    ‘I’m sorry I brought up the marriage. I only meant that Eiah’s world’s no simpler than ours. It only seems that way from here. To her, it’s just as confused and difficult as anything you deal with. She’s only half a girl, and not quite half a woman.’
    Kiyan frowned. Her eyes were rueful and resigned, and she stretched her arms until the elbows cracked.
    ‘My father made me apologize to the farmer and work for the man until I’d earned back twice the cost of what I’d taken. I don’t know that’s much guidance for us, though. I don’t think any of these girls could do work worth three lengths of gold.’
    ‘So what do we do?’
    ‘It doesn’t matter, love. As long as she’s clear that what she did didn’t end the way she’d hoped, we’ll have come as close as we can. I’d say restrict her from seeing Talit Radaani for a week’s time, but that hardly seems equal to the stakes.’
    ‘She could assist the