her sick with anxiety, Nlachi.
A shout rose on the deck above them-a score of men calling out to each other-and the ship lurched and boomed. Nayiit blinked awake, looked over at her, and smiled. He always had had a good smile.
'Have I missed anything?' he asked with a yawn.
'We've reached the low towns outside Amnat-Tan,' Liat said. 'We'll be docked soon.'
Nayiit swung his legs around, planting them on the deck to keep his hammock from rocking. He looked ruefully around the tiny cabin and sighed.
'I'll start packing our things, then,' he said.
'Pack them separate,' she said. 'I'll go the rest of the way myself. I want you back in Saraykeht.'
Nayiit took a pose that refused this, and Liat felt her jaw tighten.
'We've had this conversation, Mother. I'm not putting you out to walk the North Road by yourself.'
'I'll hire a seat on a caravan,' she said. 'Spring's just opening, and there are hound to be any number of them going to Cetani and back. It's not such a long journey, really.'
'Good. Then it won't take too long for us to get there.'
'You're going hack,' Liat said.
Nayiit sighed and gathered himself visibly.
'Fine,' he said. 'Make your argument. Convince me.'
Liat looked at her hands. It was the same problem she'd fought all through the long winter. Each time she'd come close to speaking the truth, something had held her hack. Secrets. It all came back to secrets, and if she spoke her fears to Nayiit, it would mean telling him things that only she knew, things that she had hoped might die with her.
'Is it about my father?' he said, and his voice was so gentle, Liat felt tears gathering in her eyes.
'In a way,' she said.
'I know he's at the court of Machi,' Nayiit said. 'There's no reason for me to fear him, is there? Everything you've said of him-'
'No, Maati would never hurt you. Or me. It's just… it was so long ago. And I don't know who he's become since then.'
Nayiit leaned forward, taking her hands in his.
'I want to meet him,' he said. 'Not because of who he was to you, or who he is now. I want to meet him because he's my father. Ever since Tai came, I've been thinking about it. About what it would be for me to walk away from my boy and not come hack. About choosing something else over my family.'
'It wasn't like that,' Liat said. 'Maati and I were..
'I've come this far,' he said gently. 'You can't send me hack now.'
'You don't understand,' she said.
'You can explain to me while I pack our things.'
In the end, of course, he won. She had known he would. Nayiit could be as soft and gentle and implacable as snowfall. He was his father's son.
The calls of gulls grew louder as they neared the shore, the scent of smoke more present. The docks were narrower than the seafront of Saraykeht. A ship that put in here for the winter had to prepare itself to he icebound, immobile. 'T'rade was with the eastern islands and Yalakeht; it was too far from the summer cities or Bakta or Galt for ships to come from those distant ports.
The streets were black cobbles, and ice still haunted the alleys where shadows held the cold. Nayiit carried their crate strapped across his back. The wide leather belt cut into his shoulders, but he didn't complain. He rarely complained about anything, only did what he thought best with a pleasant smile and a calm explanation ready to hand.
Liat stopped at a firekeeper's kiln to ask directions to the compound of House Radaani and was pleased to discover it was nearby. Mother and son, they walked the fog-shrouded streets until they found the wide arches that opened to the courtyard gardens of the Radaani, torches flickering and guttering in the damp air. A boy in sodden robes rushed up and lifted the crate from Nayiit's back to his own. Liat was about to address him when another voice, a woman's voice lovely and low as a singer's, came from the dim.
'Liat-cha, I must assume. I'd sent men to meet you at the docks, but I'm afraid they came too late.'
The woman who stepped out from the fog had seen no more than twenty summers. Her robes were white snowfox, eerie in the combination of pale mourning colors and the luxury of the fur. Her hair shone black with cords of silver woven in the braids. She was beautiful, and likely would be for another five summers. Liat could already see the presentiment of jowls at the borders of her jaw.
'Ceinat Radaani,' Liat said, taking a pose of gratitude. 'I am pleased to meet you in person at last. This is my son, Nayiit.'
The Radaani girl adopted a welcoming pose that included them both. Nayiit returned it, and Liat couldn't help noticing the way his eyes lingered on her and hers on him. Liat coughed, bringing their attention back to the moment. The girl took a pose of apology, and turned to lead them into the chambers and corridors of the compound.
In Saraykcht, the architecture tended to he open, encouraging the breezes to flow and cool. Northern buildings were more like great kilns, built to hold heat in their thick stone walls. The ceilings were low and fire grates burned in every room. The Radaani girl led them through a wide entrance chamber and hack through a narrow corridor, speaking as she walked.
'My father is in Council with the Khai, but sends his regards and intends to join us as soon as he can return from the city proper. He would very much regret missing the opportunity to meet with the head of our trading partner in the South.'
It was bald flattery. Radaani was among the richest houses in the winter cities, and had agreements with dozens of houses, all through the cities of the Khaiem.'I'he whole of House Kyaan would hardly have made up one of the Radaani compounds, and there were four such compounds that Liat knew of. Liat accepted it, though, as if it were true, as if the hospitality extended to her were more than etiquette.
'I look forward to speaking with him,' Liat said. 'I am most interested in hearing news of the winter cities.'
'Oh, there'll be quite a bit to say, I'm sure,' the girl laughed. 'There always is once winter's ended. I think people save up all the gossip of the winter to haul out in spring.'
She opened a pair of wide wooden doors and led them into small, cozy apartments. A fire popped and murmured in the grate, bowls of mulled wine waited steaming on a low wooden table, and archways to either side showed rooms with real beds waiting for them. Liat's body seemed drawn to the bed like a stone rolling downhill. She had not realized how much she loathed shipboard hammocks.
She took a pose of thanks that the girl responded to neatly as the servant boy put the crate down gently by the fire.
'I will let you rest,' the girl said. 'If you have need of me, any of the servants can find me for you. And I will, of course, send word when my father returns.'
'You're very kind,' Nayiit said, smiling his disarming smile. 'Forgive me, but is there a bathhouse near? I don't think shipboard life has left me entirely prepared for good company.'
'Of course,' the girl said. 'I would be pleased to show you the way.'
I'm sure you would, Liat thought. Was I so obvious at her age?
'Mother,' Nayiit said, 'would you care to..
Liat waved the offer away.
'A basin and a sponge will be enough for me. I have letters to write before dinner. Perhaps, Ceinat-cha, if you would leave word with your couriers that I will have things to send south?'
The girl took an acknowledging pose, then turned to Nayiit with a flutter of a smile and gestured for him to follow her.
'Nayiit,' Liat said, and her son paused in the apartment's doorway. 'Find out what you can about the situation in Machi. I'd like to know what we're walking into.'
Nayiit smiled, nodded, and vanished. The servant boy also left, promising the basin and sponge shortly. Liat sighed and sat down, stretching her feet out toward the burning logs. The wine tasted good, though slightly overspiced to her taste.
