Shadow and Betrayal

will be able to know each other better, once the trade is completed,’ Maati said. ‘The three of us, I mean.’
    ‘I would like that,’ Liat said. She grinned, and Maati found himself grinning back. He wondered what they would look like to someone else - the student poet and the trade house overseer beaming at each other just before the sad trade. He forced himself into a more sober demeanor.
    ‘The woman, Maj,’ he said. ‘All went well with her, I hope?’
    Liat shrugged and leaned closer to him. She smelled of an expensive perfume, earthy and rich more than floral, like fresh turned soil.
    ‘Keep it between us, but she’s been a nightmare,’ Liat said. ‘She means well, I suppose, but she’s flighty as a child and doesn’t seem to remember what I’ve told her from one day to the next.’
    ‘Is she . . . simple?’
    ‘I don’t think so. Only . . . unconcerned, I suppose. They have different ways of looking at things on Nippu. Her translator told me about it. They don’t think the child’s a person until it draws its first breath, so she didn’t even want to wear mourning colors.’
    ‘Really? I hadn’t heard that. I thought the eastern islands were . . . stricter, I suppose. If that’s the way to say it.’
    ‘Apparently not.’
    ‘Is he here? The translator?’
    ‘No,’ Liat said, taking a pose that expressed her impatience. ‘No, something came up and he had to leave. Wilsin-cha had him teach me all the phrases I need to know for the ceremony. I’ve been practicing. I can’t tell you how pleased I’ll be to have this over.’
    Maati looked over to his teacher. Heshai-kvo stood at the window, still as a statue, his expression bleak. Seedless leaned against the wall near the wide double doors of the entrance, his arms folded, staring at the poet’s back. The perfect attention reminded Maati of a feral dog tracking its prey.
    The physician arrived at the appointed hour with his retinue. Maj, blushing and pulling at her skirts, was brought inside, and Liat took her post beside her as Maati took his with Heshai-kvo and Seedless. The servants and slaves retreated a respectful distance, and the wide doors were closed. Heshai-kvo seemed bent as if he were carrying a load. He gestured to Liat, and she stepped forward and adopted a pose appropriate to the opening of a formal occasion.
    ‘Heshai-cha,’ she said. ‘I come before you as the representative of House Wilsin in this matter. My client has paid the Khai’s fee and the accountancy has weighed her payment and found it in accordance with our arrangement. We now ask that you complete your part of the contract.’
    ‘Have you asked her if she’s sure?’ Heshai-kvo asked. His words were not formal, and he took no pose with them. His lips were pressed thin and his face grayish. ‘Is she certain?’
    Liat blinked, startled, Maati thought, by the despair in his teacher’s voice. He wished now that he had explained to Liat why this was so hard for Heshai. Or perhaps it didn’t matter. Really, it only needed to be finished and behind them.
    ‘Yes,’ Liat said, also breaking with the formality of the ceremony.
    ‘Ask her again,’ Heshai said, half demanding, half pleading. ‘Ask if there isn’t another way.’
    A glimmer of stark terror lit Liat’s eyes and vanished. Maati understood. It was not one of the phrases she’d been taught. She had no way to comply. She raised her chin, her eyes narrowing in a way that made her look haughty and condescending, but Maati thought he could see the panic in her.
    ‘Heshai-kvo,’ he said, softly. ‘Please, may we finish this thing?’
    His teacher looked over, first annoyed, then sadly resigned. He took a pose that retracted the request. Liat’s eyes shifted to Maati’s with a look of gratitude. The physician took his cue and stepped forward, certifying that the woman was in good health, and that the removal of the child posed no great risk to her well-being. Heshai took a pose that thanked him. The physician led Maj to the split-seated stool and sat her in it, then silently placed the silver bowl beneath her.
    ‘I hate this,’ Heshai murmured, his voice so low that no one could hear him besides Maati and Seedless. Then he took a formal pose and declaimed: ‘In the name of the Khai Saraykeht and the Dai-kvo, I put myself at your service.’
    Liat turned to the girl and spoke in liquid syllables. Maj frowned and her wide, pale lips pursed. Then she nodded and said something in