As Joss listened, he drank the spicy soup and drained the tea, glad to have the conversation move onto less volatile ground. Askar hadn’t much of a sense of humor, but he knew what was needed for a reeve hall to run smoothly.

“I’m fortunate to have you,” he said when Askar had done. He set bowl and cup on the tray, grabbed a knife, his short staff, and, after a moment’s consideration, a pair of loose jesses. “How did you and the others manage not to lose hope while Yordenas ruled here, with those dirty, corrupt reeves gathered around him? They must have made life miserable, and dangerous, for the rest of you.”

Askar shook his head. “We did what had to be done. Of course, now we know there was another mind, working at a distance to corrupt Argent Hall and the council of Olossi. That Yordenas was simply a tool.”

“This battle isn’t done yet,” said Joss. “Our war is just beginning.”

7

Standing in the shop of her Ri Amarah hosts, Mai studied the wares for sale: netted bags; varying qualities of linen and cotton cloth, from stands-up-to-hard-use to dainty-for-festivals; needles of varying length and thickness; and two shelves packed with thread and yarn of diverse luster, strength, and color. Behind the counter, Eliar’s father presided over cubbyholes and shelves and baskets packed with medicinals.

“Isn’t that oil of naya?” she asked Isar, indicating a display of vials containing a pale liquid.

“Oil of naya is famed for its healing properties, verea.” Isar had Eliar’s good looks, aged and mellowed, and Eliar’s charming manners, but in other ways he reminded Mai of her own father: he liked tidy shelves and tidy rules, because he arranged them. “This is finest-quality water-white, useful against certain skin conditions and ailments. Crude oil of naya has the property that it burns even when water is thrown on it, so it is hard to extinguish.”

Mai leaned against the counter to steady herself as the memory of living men engulfed in flame flashed in her mind’s eye. Fifteen days ago, she had watched from the women’s tower of the Ri Amarah compound as Anji and his troops, with the aid of the Olossi militia and the reeves of Argent and Clan Halls, had attacked the army invading the city. They had won a victory against a numerically superior force by dropping oil of naya on the army’s encampment. Merciful One! Everything had burned, even flesh.

“Are you well, verea?” Isar asked. “If you’d prefer to go back to the women’s quarters, you might find it more suitable.”

She took in and released a measured breath, just as Priya had taught her, cupped a hand over the curve of her belly. After the battle, Anji had stayed with her for one night, and then he had ridden off with his troops in pursuit of the remnants of the broken army. He had his work. And she had hers. She would do what must be done.