Seasons of War

physicians,’ Otah said. ‘Carry out the night pans, wash dressings for the hurt. A week of that to pay back the city for what it bought her.’
    Kiyan chuckled.
    ‘So long as she doesn’t start enjoying it. She plays at being repulsed by blood because it’s expected of her. I think at heart, there’s nothing she’d like more than to cut a body apart and see how it’s built. She’d have made a fine physician if she’d been born a bit lower.’
    They talked a bit longer, and Otah felt his rage and uncertainty fade. Kiyan’s quiet, sane, thoughtful voice was the most soothing thing he knew. She was right. It wasn’t strange, it wasn’t a sign that Eiah would grow up to be her aunt Idaan, scheming and killing and lying for the pleasure of it. It was a girl of fourteen summers seeing how far she could go, and the answer was not so far as this. Otah kissed Kiyan before they left, his lips on her cheek. She smiled. There were crow’s-feet at the corners of her eyes now. White strands had shot her hair since she’d been young, but there were more now. Her eyes still glittered as they had when he’d met her in Udun when she’d been the keep of a wayhouse and he had been a courier. She seemed to sense his thoughts, and put her hand to his cheek.
    ‘Shall we go be the troll-like, unfair, unfeeling, stupid, venal dispensers of unjust punishment?’ she asked.
    The blue chamber was wide and round, a table of white marble dominating it like a sheet of ice floating in a far northern sea. The windows looked out on the gardens through walls so thick that sparrows and grackles perched in the sills and pecked at the carved meshwork of the inner shutters. Eiah had been pacing, but stopped when they came in. She looked from one to the other, trying for an innocence of expression that she couldn’t quite reach.
    ‘Come, sit,’ Kiyan said, gesturing to the table. Eiah came forward as if against her will and sat in one of the carved wooden chairs. Her gaze darted between the two of them, her chin already beginning to slide forward.
    ‘I understand you took something from a jeweler. A brooch,’ Otah said. ‘Is that true?’
    ‘Who told you that?’ Eiah asked.
    ‘Is it true?’ Otah repeated, and his daughter looked down. When she frowned, the same small vertical line appeared between her brows that would sometimes show Kiyan’s distress. Otah felt the passing urge to soothe her fears, but this wasn’t the moment for comfort. He scowled until she looked up, then down again, and nodded. Kiyan sighed.
    ‘Who told you?’ Eiah asked again. ‘It was Shoyen, wasn’t it? She’s jealous because Talit and I were—’
    ‘You told us, just now,’ Otah said. ‘That’s all that matters.’
    Eiah’s lips closed hard. Kiyan took a turn, telling Eiah that she’d done wrong, and they all knew it. Even she had to know that simply taking things wasn’t right. They had paid her debt, but now she would have to make it good herself. They had decided that she would work with the physicians for a week, and if she didn’t go, the physicians had instructions to send for . . .
    ‘I’m not going to,’ Eiah said. ‘It’s not fair. Talit Radaani sneaks things out of her father’s warehouse all the time and no one ever makes her do anything for it.’
    ‘I can see that changes,’ Otah said.
    ‘Don’t!’ Eiah barked. The birds startled away; a flutter of wings that sounded like panic. ‘Don’t you dare! Talit will hate me forever if she thinks I’m making her . . . Papa-kya! Please, don’t do that.’
    ‘It might be wise,’ Kiyan said. ‘All three girls were party to it.’
    ‘You can’t! You can’t do that to me!’ Eiah’s eyes were wild. She pushed back the chair as she stood. ‘I’ll tell them Nayiit’s your son! I’ll tell!’
    Otah felt the air go out of the room. Eiah’s eyes went wide, aware that she had just done something worse than stealing a bauble, but unsure what it was. Only Kiyan seemed composed and calm. She smiled dangerously.
    ‘Sit down, love,’ she said. ‘Please. Sit.’
    Eiah sat. Otah clasped his hands hard enough the knuckles ached, but there weren’t words for the mix of guilt and shame and anger and sorrow. His heart was too many things at once. Kiyan didn’t look at him when she spoke; her gaze was on Eiah.
    ‘You will never repeat what you’ve just said to anyone. Nayiit-cha is Liat’s son by Maati. Because if he isn’t, if he’s the thing you just said, then he