and I decided to put the girl and her family in the poet's house. It isn't the most impressive location, but it's comfortable, and it's far enough back from the other buildings that they might have some privacy. The gods all know they'll be gawked at like a three-headed calf the rest of the time.'
'I think Ana has a lover,' Otah said. 'One of the sailors was built rather like a courtier.'
'Ah,' Sinja said. 'I'll tell the guard to keep eyes out. I assume we'd rather he didn't come calling?'
'No, better that he not,' Otah said.
'I don't suppose there's a chance the girl's still a virgin?'
Otah took a pose that dismissed the concern. Even if she weren'tand of course she wasn't-she wouldn't be bearing another man's child. Not if the boy he had glimpsed in the hold of the Avenger was a Galt. Otah felt a moment's unease.
'If the guard do find a boy sneaking in, have him held until I can speak with him. I'd rather that this whole situation not get more complex than it already is.'
'Your word is law, Most High,' Sinja said, his tone light. Otah chuckled.
He had missed the man's company. There were few people in the world who could see Otah beneath his titles, fewer still who dared mock him. It was a familiarity that had been forged by years. Together, they had acted against the plot which had first changed Otah from outcast to Khai Machi. They had loved the same woman and come near violence over it. Sinja had trained Otah's son in the arts of combat and strategy, had gotten drunk with the Emperor after Kiyan's funeral, had spoken his mind whether invited to or not. Otah had no other advisor or friend like him.
As they moved north, the crowd that lined the street changed its nature. Once they had passed out of the throng at the seafront, the robes and faces had been those of laborers and artisans. As they passed the compounds of the merchant houses, the robes and banners became more ornate. Rich and saturated colors were edged with embroidery of gold and worked in the symbols of the various houses. And then almost without a pause, the symbols and colors were not of merchants, but of the families of the utkhaiem, and the high walls and ornate shutters were not mercantile compounds, but palaces. Men and women in fine robes took poses of welcome and obeisance as servants and slaves fanned them. A hidden choir burst into song somewhere to his left, the voices in complex harmony. The litter stopped before the grand palace, the first palace, the Emperor's palace. Otah stepped out, sweeping his gaze over the ordered rows of servants and high officials until he saw the one man he'd longed for.
Danat was in his twentieth summer, his face a mixture of Otah's long, northern features and Kiyan's, thin and foxlike. The planes of his cheeks had sharpened since Otah had gone. He looked older, more handsome. He wore a robe of deep gray set off with a rich, red sash that suited him. And still, Otah could see all the boys that had made this man: the babe, the bumbling child new to his own feet, the long-ill boy kept in his bed, the awkward and sorrowful youth, and the young heir to the Empire. All of them stood before him, hands in a pose of formal welcome, a smile glittering in his eyes. Otah broke protocol, embracing his son. The boy's arms were strong.
'You've done well,' Otah murmured.
'None of the cities actually burned down while you were gone,' Danat replied softly. There was pride in his voice, pleasure at the compliment.
'But you sound too much like Sinja.'
'You knew that was a risk.'
Otah laughed and let the swarm of servants precede him to his chambers. There would be no end of ceremonies later. Welcomes would drag on for weeks, audiences, special pleadings, feasts, dances, negotiations, councils. It all lay before him like a life's work started late. But now, sitting in the cool breeze of his private apartments with Sinja across from him and Danat pouring chilled water into stone bowls, the world was perfect.
Except, of course, that it wasn't.
'Perhaps we can mend both breaks with the same nail,' Sinja said. 'A strong showing against the pirates protects Chaburi-Tan and warns Obar State to keep to its own house.'
'And a weak showing against them?' Otah asked.
'Shows we're weak, after which things go poorly,' Sinja said. 'But if we're going to assume failure from the start, there's not going to be anything of use that I can offer.'
Otah propped up his feet. The palaces still felt as if they were swaying: the ghost motion of weeks aboard ship. The feeling was oddly pleasant.
'On the other hand,' he said, 'if we plan to decimate the enemy with a flower and a pillow, it's not going to help us. How strong is our fleet? Do we have enough men to take the pirates in a fair fight?'
'If we don't have them now, we certainly won't next year when all the sailors are a year older,' Sinja said. 'Even if you magically transport every fertile girl in Galt straight to some poor bastard's bed, it will be ten years before they can deliver us anyone strong enough to coil rope, much less fight. If we're going to do anything, it has to be now. We're going to grow weaker before we're strong.'
'If we manage to get strong,' Otah said. 'And I don't know that we can spare the ships. We have eleven cities and the gods alone know how many low towns. We're talking about moving half a million of our men to Galt and bringing back as many of their women.'
'Well, yes, shipping out anyone we have of fighting age now won't help the matter,' Sinja said.
'Galt could do it,' Danat said. 'They have experience with sea wars. They have fighting ships and the veterans.'
Otah saw the considering expression on Sinja's face. He let the silence stretch.
'I don't like it,' Sinja said at last. 'I don't know why I don't like it, but I don't.'
'We're still thinking of our problems as our own,' Danat said. 'Asking Galt to fight our battles might seem odd, but they'd be protecting their own land too. In a generation, Chaburi-Tan is going to be as much their city as ours.'
Otah felt an odd pressure in his chest. It was true, of course. It was what he had spent years working to accomplish. And still, when Danat put it in bare terms like that, it was hard for him to hear it.
'It's more than that,' Sinja said.
'Is it Balasar?' Otah asked.
Sinja leaned forward, his fingers laced on his knee, his mouth set in a scowl. At length, he spoke.
'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, it is.'
'He's forgiven me,' Otah said. 'Perhaps the two of you-'
'All respect, Otah-cha,' Sinja said. 'You were his enemy. That's a fair position. I broke my oath, lied to him, and killed his best captain. He's a man who loves loyalty, and I was one of his men. It's not the same.'
'Perhaps it isn't,' Otah agreed.
'Balasar-cha doesn't have to be the one to lead it,' Danat said. 'Or, all respect, Sinja-cha, for that.'
'No, of course we don't,' Sinja said. 'It's not my head that's struggling with the thought. It's just… The boy's right, Otah-cha. A mixed fleet, their ships and ours, sinking the pirates would be the best solution. I don't know if we can negotiate the thing, but it's worth considering.'
Otah scratched his leg.
'Farrer-cha,' he said. 'Danat's new father. He has experience with sea fighting. I think he hates all of us together and individually for Anacha's upcoming marriage, but he would still be the man to approach.'
Danat took a long drink of water and grinned. It made him look younger.
'After the ceremony's done with,' Sinja said. 'We'll get the man drunk and happy and see if we can't make him sign something binding before he sobers up.'
'If it were only so simple,' Otah said. 'With the High Council and the Low Council and the Conclave, every step they take is like putting cats in a straight line. Watching it in action, it's amazing they ever put together a war.'
'You should talk to Balasar,' Sinja said.
'I will,' Otah replied.
They moved on to other topics. Some were more difficult: weavers and stonemasons on the coasts had started offering money to apprentices, so the nearby farms were losing hands; the taxes from Amnat-Tan had been lower than expected; the raids in the northern passes were getting worse. Others were innocuous: court fashions had shifted toward robes with a more Galtic drape; the shipping traffic on the rivers was faster now that they'd figured out how to harness boilers to do the rowing; and finally, Eiah had sent word that she was busy assisting a
