An Autumn War

leave again the day that Nayiit's son Tai took his first steps.

Looking back, she wondered why it had been so easy for Nayiit to come

with her. He and his wife were happy, she'd thought. The baby boy was

delightful, and the work of the house engaging. When he had made the

offer, she had hidden her pleasure at the thought and made only slight

objections. The truth was that the years they had spent on the road when

Nayiit had been a child-the time between her break with Maati Vaupathai

and her return to the arms of Saraykeht-held a powerful nostalgia for

her. Alone in the world with only a son barely halfway to manhood, she

had expected struggle and pain and the emptiness that she had always

thought must accompany a woman without a man.

The truth had been a surprise. Certainly the emptiness and struggle and

pain had attended their travels. She and Nayiit had spent nights

huddling under waxed-cloth tarps while chill rain pattered around them.

They had eaten cheap food from low-town firekeepers. She had learned

again all she'd known as a girl of how to mend a robe or a boot. And she

had discovered a competence she had never believed herself to possess.

Before that, she had always had a lover by whom to judge herself. With a

son, she found herself stronger, smarter, more complete than she had

dared pretend.

The journey to Nantani had been a chance for her to relive that, one

last time. Her son was a man now, with a child of his own. There

wouldn't be many more travels, just the two of them. So she had put

aside any doubts, welcomed him, and set off to discover what she could

about Riaan Vaudathat, son of a high family of the Nantani utkhaiem and

missing poet. She had expected the work to take a season, no more. They

would be back in the compound of House Kyaan in time to spend the autumn

haggling over contracts and shipping prices.

And now it was spring, and she saw no prospect of sleeping in a bed she

might call her own any time soon. Nayiit had not complained when it

became clear that their investigation would require a journey to the

village of the Dai-kvo. As a woman, Liat was not permitted beyond the

low towns approaching it. She would need a man to do her business within

the halls of the Dai-kvo's palaces. They had hooked passage to Yalakeht,

and then upriver. They had arrived at mid-autumn and hardly finished

their investigation before Candles Night. So far North, there had been

no ship hack to Saraykeht, and Liat had taken apartments for them in the

narrow, gated streets of Yalakeht for the winter.

In the long, dark hours she had struggled with what she knew, and with

the thaw and the first ships taking passages North, she had prepared to

travel to Amnat-Tan, and then Cetani. And then, though the prospect made

her sick with anxiety, Nlachi.

A shout rose on the deck above them-a score of men calling out to each

other-and the ship lurched and boomed. Nayiit blinked awake, looked over

at her, and smiled. He always had had a good smile.

"Have I missed anything?" he asked with a yawn.

"We've reached the low towns outside Amnat-Tan," Liat said. "We'll be

docked soon."

Nayiit swung his legs around, planting them on the deck to keep his

hammock from rocking. He looked ruefully around the tiny cabin and sighed.

"I'll start packing our things, then," he said.

"Pack them separate," she said. "I'll go the rest of the way myself. I

want you back in Saraykeht."

Nayiit took a pose that refused this, and Liat felt her jaw tighten.

"We've had this conversation, Mother. I'm not putting you out to walk

the North Road by yourself."

"I'll hire a seat on a caravan," she said. "Spring's just opening, and

there are hound to be any number of them going to Cetani and back. It's

not such a long journey, really."

"Good. Then it won't take too long for us to get there."

"You're going hack," Liat said.

Nayiit sighed and gathered himself visibly.

"Fine," he said. "Make your argument. Convince me."

Liat looked at her hands. It was the same problem she'd fought all

through the long winter. Each time she'd come close to speaking the

truth, something had held her hack. Secrets. It all came back to

secrets, and if she spoke her fears to Nayiit, it would mean telling him

things that only she knew, things that she had hoped might die with her.

"Is it about my father?" he said, and his voice was so gentle, Liat felt

tears gathering in her eyes.

"In a way," she said.

"I know he's at the court of Machi," Nayiit said. "There's no reason for

me to fear him, is there? Everything you've said of him-"

"No, Maati would never hurt you. Or me. It's just ... it was so long

ago. And I don't know who he's become since then."

Nayiit leaned forward, taking her hands in his.

"I want to meet him," he said. "Not because of who he was to you, or who

he is now. I want to meet him because he's my father. Ever since Tai

came, I've been thinking about it. About what it would be for me to walk

away from my boy and not come hack. About choosing something else over

my family."

"It wasn't like that," Liat said. "Maati and I were . .

"I've come this far," he said gently. "You can't send me hack now."

"You don't understand," she said.

"You can explain to me while I pack our things."

In the end, of course, he won. She had known he would. Nayiit could be

as soft and gentle and implacable as snowfall. He was his father's son.

The calls of gulls grew louder as they neared the shore, the scent of

smoke more present. The docks were narrower than the seafront of

Saraykeht. A ship that put in here for the winter had to prepare itself

to he icebound, immobile. 'T'rade was with the eastern islands and

Yalakeht; it was too far from the summer cities or Bakta or Galt for

ships to come from those distant ports.

The streets were black cobbles, and ice still haunted the alleys where

shadows held the cold. Nayiit carried their crate strapped across his

back. The wide leather belt cut into his shoulders, but he didn't

complain. He rarely complained about anything, only did what he thought

best with a pleasant smile and a calm explanation ready to hand.

Liat stopped at a firekeeper's kiln to ask directions to the compound of

House Radaani and was pleased to discover it was nearby. Mother and son,

they walked the fog-shrouded streets until they found the wide arches