“I put a deposit down with some of the griots,” Abdumasi said, while they walked together through the bazaar. Bosoka sentries in gold paint parted the crowd for them. “I hired a satirist, a gossip, an epic, and a comic. They’re going to come down to Prince Hill every month and tell us about the war.”

“You sold your cats for that?”

“Do you think it’s not important? To know what’s happening?”

“No, of course it’s important. But we could have paid the griots with Mother Tahr’s stories about Falcrest.”

“Well, I don’t have your mother’s stories, do I?” Abdumasi scowled and looked at something behind him. When he thought Tau-indi couldn’t see his face he said, lightly, “You’re in a mood lately.”

Tau-indi, thick-tongued, pretended not to hear him. Kindalana wasn’t there, and yet it felt like Kindalana was walking between them.

“Do you think it’s a good mix?” Abdumasi said hopefully.

“Eh?”

“A satirist, a gossip, an epic, and a comic. Do you think they’ll help us understand the war?”

“How should I know?” Tau-indi snapped. “How should I know anything about that?”

“You don’t have to know.” Abdumasi, much taller, didn’t have to work to catch up. “I just want you to say you approve.”

He was trying his best to be soothing. Soothing! Just one more thing Abdumasi did better. Fah. Abdumasi deserved no credit for it. Anyone could be magnanimous if they had a secret advantage, if they knew that they could hurt without being hurt in turn. Why wouldn’t Abdumasi admit he was sleeping with Kindalana? Because he knew that it would make Tau lonely. Because poor little Tau wasn’t old enough to have lovers.

Poor little Tau.

Tau-indi stalked along, rubbing the broken bones, that’s what Tahr always said, carrying on while upset was just like walking on a broken bone.

“When will the griots come?” they made themself say. “I want to listen.”

“That’s good. You Princes, you’ve got to listen to us merchants, we’re the ones who are really in touch with the world!” Abdumasi grinned his big buy-my-cats grin, everyone’s funny friend. Tau-indi hated him with a sick, self-loathing totality. “We have to keep you in touch, or you might not realize what’s going on!”

“No,” Tau-indi said, pouncing oh so sweetly, thinking of Abdumasi and Kindalana on the rock. “We might not realize what’s going on at all.”

*   *   *

THE griots came up Prince Hill to tell them about the war. They all gathered in the garden of House Abd to eat and drink and listen.