A Betrayal in Winter - By Daniel Abraham Page 0,10
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 away. Maati sipped his tea again. 't'his time it didn't burn. To his right, Kaiin Machi took a pose of query, looking directly at Maati for what seemed the first time.
"Would you know him again if you saw him?"
"Yes," Maati said. "I would."
"You sound certain of it."
"I am, Kaiin-cha."
The thin man smiled. All around the table a sense of satisfaction seemed to come from his answer. Maati found it unnerving. The Daikvo poured himself more tea, the liquid clicking into his bowl like a stream over stones.
"'T'here is a very good library in Machi," the Dai-kvo said. "One of the finest in the fourteen cities. I understand there are records there from the time of the Empire. One of the high lords was thinking to go there, perhaps, to ride out the war, and sent his hooks ahead. I'm sure there are treasures hidden among those shelves that would be of use in binding the andat."
"Really?" Maati asked.
"No, not really," the Dai-kvo said. "I expect it's a mess of poorly documented scraps overseen by a librarian who spends his copper on wine and whores, but I don't care. For our purposes, there are secrets hidden in those records important enough to send a low-ranking poet like yourself to sift though. I have a letter to the Khai Machi that will explain why you are truly there. IIc will explain your presence to the utkhaiem and Cehmai 'Ivan, the poet who holds Stone-Made-Soft. Let them think you've come on my errand. What you will be doing instead is discovering whether Otah killed Biitrah Machi. If so, who is hacking him. If not, who did, and why."
"Most high-" Maati began.
"Wait for me in the gardens," the Dal-kvo said. "I have a few more things to discuss with the sons of Machi."
The gardens, like the apartments, were small, well kept, beautiful, and simple. A fountain murmured among carefully shaped, deeply fragrant pine trees. Maati sat, looking out. From the side of mountain, the world spread out before him like a map. He waited, his head buzzing, his heart in turmoil. Before long he heard the steady grinding sound of footsteps on gravel, and he turned to see the Dai-kvo making his way down the path toward him. Maati stood. He had not known the Dai-kvo had started walking with a cane. A servant followed at a distance, carrying a chair, and did not approach until the Dai-kvo signaled. Once the chair was in place, looking out over the same span that Maati had been considering, the servant retreated.
"Interesting, isn't it?" the Dai-kvo said.
Maati, unsure whether he meant the view or the business with the sons of Machi, didn't reply. The Dai-kvo looked at him, something part smile, part something less congenial on his lips. He drew forth two packets-letters sealed in wax and sewn shut. Maati took them and tucked them in his sleeve.
"Gods. I'm getting old. You see that tree?" the Dai-kvo asked, pointing at one of the shaped pines with his cane.
"Yes, most high."
"There's a family of robins that lives in it. They wake me up every morning. I always mean to have someone break the nest, but I've never quite given the order."
"You are merciful, most high."
The old man looked up at him, squinting. His lips were pressed thin, and the lines in his face were black as charcoal. Maati stood waiting. At length, the Dai-kvo turned away again with a sigh.
"Will you be able to do it?" he asked.
"I will do as the Dai-kvo commands," Maati said.
"Yes, I know you'll go there. But will you be able to tell me that he's there? You know if he is behind this, they'll kill him before they go on to each other. Are you able to bear that responsibility? Tell me now if you aren't, and I'll find some other way. You don't have to fail again."
"I won't fail again, most high."
"Good. That's good," the Dai-kvo said and went silent. Maati waited so long for the pose that would dismiss him that he wondered whether the Dai-kvo had forgotten he was there, or had chosen to ignore him as an insult. But the old man spoke, his voice low.