A Betrayal in Winter (lpq-2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

himself to show
    neither his anger nor his shame as he took a pose of greeting to the two
    men.
     
    "Forgive me," he said. "I don't believe we have met before, or if we
    have, I apologize that I don't recall it."
     
    "We haven't met," the thicker one said.
     
    "He isn't much to look at," the thin one said, pointedly speaking to the
    Dai-kvo. The thicker scowled and sketched the briefest of apologetic
    poses. It was a thread thrown to a drowning man, but Nlaati found
    himself appreciating even the empty form of courtesy.
     
    "Sit down, Maati-cha," the Dal-kvo said, gesturing to a chair. "Have a
    bowl of tea. There's something we have to discuss. Tell me what you've
    heard of events in the winter cities."
     
    Maati sat and spoke while the Dai-kvo poured the tea.
     
    "I only know what I hear at the teahouses and around the kilns, most
    high. There's trouble with the glassblowers in Cetani; something about
    the Khai Cetani raising taxes on exporting fishing bulbs. But I haven't
    heard anyone taking it very seriously. Amnat-Tan is holding a summer
    fair, hoping, they say, to take trade from Yalakeht. And the Khai Machi ..."
     
    Maati stopped. He realized now why the two strangers seemed familiar;
    who they reminded him of. The Dai-kvo pushed a fine ceramic bowl across
    the smooth-sanded grain of the table. Maati fell into a pose of thanks
    without being aware of it, but did not take the bowl.
     
    "The Khai Machi is dying," the Dal-kvo said. "I Iis belly's gone rotten.
    It's a sad thing. Not a good end. And his eldest son is murdered.
    Poisoned. What do the teahouses and kilns say of that?"
     
    "That it was poor form," Maati said. "'t'hat no one has seen the Khaiem
    resort to poison since Udun, thirteen summers ago. But neither of the
    brothers has appeared to accuse the other, so no one ... Gods! You two
    are ..."
     
    "You see?" the Dai-kvo said to the thin man, smiling as he spoke. "No,
    not much to look at, but a decent stew between his ears. Yes, Maati-cha.
    The man scraping my windowsill with his boots there is Danat Machi. This
    is his eldest surviving brother, Kaiin. And they have come here to speak
    with me instead of waging war against each other because neither of them
    killed their elder brother Biitrah."
     
    "So they ... you think it was Otah-kvo?"
     
    "The Dai-kvo says you know my younger brother," the thickset
    man-Danat-said, taking his own seat at the only unoccupied side of the
    table. "Tell me what you know of Otah."
     
    "I haven't seen him in years, Danat-cha," Maati said. "He was in
    Saraykcht when ... when the old poet there died. He was working as a
    laborer. But I haven't seen him since."
     
    "Do you think he was satisfied by that life?" the thin one-Kaiin- asked.
    "A laborer at the docks of Saraykeht hardly seems like the fate a son of
    the Khaiem would embrace. Especially one who refused the brand."
     
    Maati picked up the bowl of tea, sipping it too quickly as he tried to
    gain himself a moment to think. The tea scalded his tongue.
     
    "I never heard Otah speak of any ambitions for his father's chair,"
    Maati said.
     
    "And is there any reason to think he would have spoken of it to you?"
    Kaiin said, the faintest sneer in his voice. Maati felt the blush
    creeping into his cheeks again, but it was the Dai-kvo who answered.
     
    ""There is. Otah Machi and Maati here were close for a time. They fell
    out eventually over a woman, I believe. Still, I hold that if Otah had
    been bent on taking part in the struggle for Machi at that time, he
    would have taken Maati into his confidence. But that is hardly our
    concern. As Maati here points out, it was years ago. Otah may have
    become ambitious. Or resentful. There's no way for us to know that-"
     
    "But he refused the brand-" Danat began, and the Dai-kvo cut him off
    with a gesture.
     
    "There were other reasons for that," the Dai-kvo said sharply. "They
    aren't your concern."
     
    Danat Nlachi took a pose of apology and the Dai-kvo waved it