Shadow and Betrayal

laced thick fingers over his wide belly and smiled. His eyes, sunk deep in their sockets and padded by generous fat, glittered like wet stones in a brook.
    ‘I confess, Maati-cha, that I hadn’t expected a visit from the Daikvo’s envoy. I’ve had men from every major house in the city here to talk with me these last few days, but the most high Dai-kvo usually keeps clear of these messy little affairs.’
    Maati sipped his tea though it was still too hot. He had to be careful how he answered this. It was a fine line between letting it be assumed that he had the Dai-kvo’s backing and actually saying as much, but that difference was critical. He had so far kept away from anything that might reach back to the Dai-kvo’s village, but Radaani was an older man than Ghiah Vaunani or Adaut Kamau. And he seemed more at home with the bullying attitude of wealth than the subtleties of court. Maati put down his bowl.
    ‘The Dai-kvo isn’t taking a hand in it,’ Maati said, ‘but that hardly means he should embrace ignorance. The better he knows the world, the better he can direct the poets to everyone’s benefit, ne?’
    ‘Spoken like a man of the court,’ Radaani said, and despite the smile in his voice, Maati didn’t think it had been a compliment.
    ‘I have heard that the Radaani might have designs on the Khai’s chair,’ Maati said, dropping the oblique path he had intended. It would have done no good here. ‘Is that the case?’
    Radaani smiled and pointed for the servant boy to go. The boy dropped into a formal pose and retreated, sliding the door closed behind him. Maati sat, smiling pleasantly, but not filling the silence. It was a small room, richly appointed - wood varnished until it seemed to glow and ornaments of worked gold and carved stone. The windows were adorned with shutters of carved cedar so fine that they let the breeze in and kept the birds and insects out even as they scented the air. Radaani tilted his head, distant eyes narrowing. Maati felt like a gem being valued by a merchant.
    ‘I have one son in Yalakeht, overseeing our business interests. I have a grandson who has recently learned how to sing and jump sticks at the same time. I can’t see that either of them would be well suited to the Khai’s chair. I would have to either abandon my family’s business or put a child in power over the city.’
    ‘Certainly there must be some financial advantages to being the Khai Machi,’ Maati said. ‘I can’t think it would hurt your family to exchange your work in Yalakeht to join the Khaiem.’
    ‘Then you haven’t spoken to my overseers,’ Radaani laughed. ‘We are pulling in more gold from the ships in Yalakeht and Chaburi-Tan than the Khai Machi can pull out of the ground, even with the andat. No. If I want power, I can purchase it and not have to compromise anything. Besides, I have six or eight daughters I’d be happy for the new Khai to marry. He could have one for every day of the week.’
    ‘You could take the chair for yourself,’ Maati said. ‘You’re not so old . . .’
    ‘And I’m not so young as to be that stupid. Here, Vaupathai, let me lay this out for you. I am old, gouty as often as not, and rich. I have what I want from life, and being the Khai Machi would mean that if I were lucky, my grandsons would be slitting each other’s throats. I don’t want that for them, and I don’t want the trouble of running a city for myself. Other men want it, and they can have it. None of them will cross me, and I will support whoever takes the name.’
    ‘So you have no preference,’ Maati said.
    ‘Now I didn’t go so far as to say that, did I? Why does the Dai-kvo care which of us becomes the Khai?’
    ‘He doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean he’s uninterested.’
    ‘Then let him wait two weeks, and he can have the name. It doesn’t figure. Either he has a favorite or . . . or is this about your belly getting opened for you?’ Radaani pursed his lips, his eyes darting back and forth over Maati’s face. ‘The upstart’s dead, so it isn’t that. You think someone was working with Otah Machi? That one of the houses was backing him?’
    ‘I didn’t go so far as to say that, did I? And even if they were, it’s no concern of the Dai-kvo’s,’ Maati said.
    ‘True, but no one tried to fish-gut the Dai-kvo. Could it be, Maati-cha, that you’re here on your own interest?’
    ‘You give me too much credit,’ Maati said. ‘I’m only a simple man trying to