Shadow and Betrayal

brilliant - a man standing as speaker need hardly raise his voice and the stone walls would carry his words through the air without need of whisperers. Even over the murmurs of the tables below and the galleries above, the prepared, elaborate, ornate, deathly dull speeches of the utkhaiem reached every ear. The morning session had been interesting at least - the novelty of the situation had held his attention. But apart from his conversation with Cehmai, Maati had filled the hours of his day with little more than the voices of men practiced at saying little with many words. Praise of the utkhaiem generally and of their own families in particular, horror at the crimes and misfortunes that had brought them here, and the best wishes of the speaker and his father or his son or his cousin for the city as a whole, and on and on and on.
    Maati had pictured the struggle for power as a thing of blood and fire, betrayal and intrigue and danger. And, when he listened for the matter beneath the droning words, yes, all that was there. That even this could be made dull impressed him.
    The talk with Cehmai had gone better than he had hoped. He felt guilty using Idaan Machi against him that way, but perhaps the boy had been ready to be used. And there was very little time.
    He was relying now on the competence of his enemies. There would be only a brief window between the time when it became clear who would take the prize and the actual naming of the Khai Machi. In that moment, Maati would know who had engineered all this, who had used Otah-kvo as a cover, who had attempted his own slaughter. And if he were wise and lucky and well-positioned, he might be able to take action. Enlisting Cehmai in his service was only a way to improve the chances of setting a lever in the right place.
    ‘The concern our kind brother of Saya brings up is a wise one to consider,’ a sallow-faced scion of the Daikani said. ‘The days are indeed growing shorter, and the time for preparation is well upon us. There are roofs that must be made ready to hold their burden of snow. There are granaries to be filled and stocks to be prepared. There are crops to be harvested, for men and beasts both.’
    ‘I didn’t know the Khai did all that,’ a familiar voice whispered. ‘He must have been a very busy man. I don’t suppose there’s anyone could take up the slack for him?’
    Baarath shifted down and sat beside Maati. He smelled of wine, his cheeks were rosy, his eyes too bright. But he had an oilcloth cone filled with strips of fried trout that he offered to Maati, and the distraction was almost welcome. Maati took a bit of the fish.
    ‘What have I missed?’ Baarath said,
    ‘The Vaunyogi appear to be a surprise contender,’ Maati said. ‘They’ve been mentioned by four families, and praised in particular by two others. I think the Vaunani and Kamau are feeling upset by it, but they seem to hate each other too much to do anything about it.’
    ‘That’s truth,’ Baraath said. ‘Ijan Vaunani came to blows with old Kamau’s grandson this afternoon at a teahouse in the jewelers’ quarter. Broke his nose for him, I heard.’
    ‘Really?’
    Baarath nodded. The sallow man droned on half forgotten now as Baarath spoke close to Maati’s ear.
    ‘There are rumors of reprisal, but old Kamau’s made it clear that anyone doing anything will be sent to tar ships in the Westlands. They say he doesn’t want people thinking ill of the house, but I think it’s his last effort to keep an alliance open against Adrah Vaunyogi. It’s clear enough that someone’s bought little Adrah a great deal more influence than just sleeping with a dead man’s daughter would earn.’
    Baarath grinned, then coughed and looked concerned.
    ‘Don’t repeat that to anyone, though,’ he said. ‘Or if you do, don’t say it was me. It’s terribly rude, and I’m rather drunk. I only came up here to sober up a bit.’
    ‘Yes, well, I came up to keep an eye on the process, and I think it’s more likely to put your head on a pillow than clear it.’
    Baarath chuckled.
    ‘You’re an idiot if you came here to see what’s happening. It’s all out in the piss troughs where a man can actually speak. Didn’t you know that? Honestly, Maati-kya, if you went to a comfort house, you’d spend all your time watching the girls in the front dance and wondering when the fucking was supposed to start.’
    Maati’s jaw went tight. When Baarath offered the fish again, Maati refused