'Sinja-cha,' Balasar Cice said in the tongue of the hhaiem. 'I was hoping to find you here.,,
Sinja took a pose of respect and welcome.
'I'd say winter's cone,' the general said.
'No, Balasar-cha. If this was real winter, you could tell because we'd all be dead by now.'
Balasar's eyes went harder, but his wry smile didn't fade. It wasn't anger that made him what he was. It was determination. Sinja found himself unsurprised. Anger was too weak and uncertain to have seen them all this far.
'I'd have you ride with us,' the general said.
'I'm not sure Eustin-cha would enjoy that,' Sinja said, then switched to speaking in Galtic. 'But if it's what you'd like, sir, I'm pleased to do it.'
'You have a horse?'
'Several. I've been having them walked. I've got good enough fighters among my men, but I can't speak all that highly of them as grooms. A horse with a good lather up in this climate and with these boys to care for it is going to he tomorrow night's dinner.'
'I have a servant or two I could spare,' Balasar said, frowning. Sinja took a pose that both thanked and refused.
'I'd take the loan of one of your horses, if you have one ready to ride. Otherwise, I'll need to get one of mine.'
'I'll have one sent,' Balasar said. Sinja saluted, and the general made his way back to the main body of the column. Sinja had just washed down the last of the bread with the dregs of his tea when a servant arrived with a saddled brown mare and orders to hand it over to him. Sinja rode slowly past the soldiers, grim-faced and uncomfortable, preparing for their trek or else already marching. Balasar rode just after the vanguard with Dustin and whichever of his captains he chose to speak with. Sinja fell in beside the general and made his salute. Balasar returned it seriously. h, ustin only nodded.
'You served the Khai NIachi,' Balasar said.
'Since before he was the Khai, in fact,' Sinja said.
'What can you tell me about him?'
'I-fie has a good wife,' Sinja said. Eustin actually smiled at the joke, but Balasar's head tilted a degree.
'Only one wife?' he asked. ''That's odd for the Khaiem, isn't it?'
'And only one son. It is odd,' Sinja said. 'But he's an odd man for a Khai. He spent his boyhood working as a laborer and traveling through the eastern islands and the cities. lie didn't kill his family to take the chair. He's been considered something of an embarrassment by the utkhaiem, he's upset the I)ai-kvo, and I think he's looked on his position as a burden.'
'He's a poor leader then?'
'He's better than they deserve. Most of the Khaiem actually like the job.'
Balasar smiled and Eustin frowned. 'I'hey understood.
'He hasn't posted scouts,' Eustin pointed out. 'He can't he much of a war leader.'
'No one would post scouts this late in the season,' Sinja said. 'You might as well fault him for not keeping a watch on the moon in case we launched an attack from there.'
'And how was it that a son of the Khaiem found himself working as a laborer?' Balasar asked, eager, it seemed, to change the subject.
As he swayed gently on the horse, Sinja told the story of Otah Nlachi. How he had walked away from the I) ai-kvo to take a false name as a petty laborer. The years in Saraykeht, and then in the eastern islands. How he had taken part in the gentleman's trade, met the woman who would be his wife, and then been caught up in a plot for his father's chair. The uncertain first year of his rule. The plague that had struck the winter cities, and how he had struggled with it. The tensions when he had refused marriage to the daughter of the Khai I Otani. Reluctantly, Sinja even told of his own small drama, and its resolution. He ended with the formation of the small militia, and its being sent away to the west, and to Balasar's service.
Balasar listened through it all, probing now and again with questions or comments or requests for Sinja to amplify on sonic point or aspect of the Khai Machi. Behind them, the sun slid down toward the horizon. The air began to cool, and Sinja pulled his leather cloak hack over his shoulders. Dark would he upon them soon, and the moon had still not risen. Sinja expected the meeting to come to its close when they stopped to make camp, but Balasar kept him near, pressing for more detail and explanation.
Sinja knew better than to dissemble. He was here because he had played well up to this point, but if his loyalty to the Galts was ever going to break, it would be soon and all three men knew it. If he held hack, hesitated, or gave information that seemed intended to mislead, he would fall from Balasar's grace. So he told his story as clearly and truthfully as he could. There wasn't a great deal that was likely to he of use to the general anyway. Sinja had, after all, never seen Otah lead an army. If he'd been asked to guess how such an effort would end, he'd have been proved wrong already.
They ate their evening meal in Balasar's tent of thick hide beside a brazier of glowing coals that made the potato-and-salt-pork soup taste smoky. When at last Sinja found himself without more to say, the questions ended. Balasar sighed deeply.
'He sounds like a good man,' he said. 'I'm sorry I won't get to meet him.'
'I'm sure he'd say the same,' Sinja said.
'Will the utkhaiem turn against him? If we make the same offers we made in Utani and Tan-Sadar, can we avoid the fighting?'
'After he heat your men? It's not a wager I'd take.'
Balasar's eyes narrowed, and Sinja felt his throat go a bit tighter, halfconvinced he'd said something wrong. But Balasar only yawned, and the moment passed.
'How would you expect him to defend his city?' Eustin asked, breaking a stick of bread. 'Will he come out to meet us, or hide and make us dig him out?'
'Dig, I'd expect. He knows the streets and the tunnels. He knows his men will break if he puts them in the field. And he'll likely put men in the towers to drop rocks on us as we pass. 'hiking hlachi is going to be unpleasant. Assuming we get there.'
'You still have doubts?' Balasar asked.
'I've never had doubts. One bad storm, and we're all dead men. I'm as certain of that as I ever was.'
'And you still chose to come with us.'
'Yes, sir.'
'Why?'
Sinja looked at the burning coals. The deep orange glow and the white dust of ash. Why exactly he had come was a question he'd asked himself more than once since they'd left'I n-Sadar. He could say it was the contract, but that wasn't the truth and all three of them knew it. He flexed his fingers, feeling the ache in his knuckles.
'There's something I want there,' he said.
'You'd like to he the new Khai Machi?'
'In a way,' Sinja said. 'Something I'd ask from you instead of my share of the spoils, at least.'
Balasar nodded, already knowing what Sinja was driving toward. 'I'he Lady Kiyan,' he said.
'I don't want her raped or killed,' Sinja said. 'When the city falls, I'd like her handed over to me. I'll see she doesn't do anything stupid or destructive.'
'Her husband and children,' F, ustin said. 'We will have to kill them.'
'I know it,' Sinja said, 'hut she's not from a high family. She's got no standing aside from her marriage. She won't pose a threat.'
'And for her sake, you'd betray the Khai?' Balasar asked.
Sinja smiled. 't'his question, at least, he could answer honestly and without fear.
'For her sake, sir, I'd betray the gods.'
Balasar looked at Eustin, his eyebrows rising as if asking an unvoiced question. Eustin considered Sinja for a long moment, then shrugged. Grunting, Balasar shifted and pulled a wooden box from under his cot. He took a stoppered flask from it-good Nantani porcelain-and three small drinking howls. With growing unease, Sinja waited as Balasar poured out water-clear rice wine in silence, then handed one howl to Eustin, the next to him.
'I have a favor to ask of you as well,' Balasar said.
