Free Water Logic by Laurie J. Marks Page B

G’deon was making her visible way through the parting crowd, with her vivid red coat unbuttoned to reveal an embroidered green tunic. Mabin and Norina walked at her right, and at her left trod Zanja, like a preternaturally alert, indescribably exotic black hound. Beside Zanja walked a Basdown cow doctor.
    “Gods of hell,” Clement muttered.
    “They’re coming towards us,” said Ellid.
    Clement and Ellid stepped forward to clasp hands with these governors. Karis’s cold, bare hand conveyed a burning sensation that made Clement catch her breath. Zanja said quietly, “Ellid can introduce us to the commanders, can’t she?” She passed Clement to Seth.
    Clement could hear Zanja talking to Ellid, in her clear, precise Sainnese, then greeting Gilly as they moved towards the gray posts of the commanders. Clement fumbled to take Seth’s ungloved hand.
    Seth said, “You’re always walking away from me, it seems.”
    “I apologize. Gilly told me I should write you a note at least, but I don’t know all the letters yet.”
    “So you thought of me once,” said Seth.
    Clement had thought of her—many more times than once—midsentence sometimes, or lying awake on her hard bed, or snatching a hasty moment with her son. But her armor was the only thing keeping her standing right now; she could not take it off. She said, “I hope for my son that when he is grown he can choose his lovers freely.”
    Seth gazed at her—and Clement couldn’t guess what she was thinking. She excused herself and returned to the commanders, who like stringed puppets each in turn looked startled and astounded as Karis’s palm pressed theirs. Norina, from behind the shelter of Karis’s broad shoulders, seemed to be assessing the character of these strangers. Perhaps she would be able to tell Clement something useful about them. Zanja and Gilly were translating, though all of the commanders spoke some Shaftalese, and some were as fluent as Clement. Some commanders managed to utter stiff compliments on General Mabin’s leadership, for which she was legendary, even among her enemies.
    Seth had gone away. A cold line trickled down Clement’s cheek. She wiped it away casually, as if her eyes were just watering in the cold wind.
    Finished, Karis held out a hand to Clement, and when she approached put a hand on her shoulder and bent to say in her ear, “Will it hurt you if I make a show of my regard for you? Zanja says I should.”
    “Regard—but not affection.”
    “I actually do approve of you, but I hate performing. And I’m bad at it.”
    Norina, apparently close enough to hear, said quietly, “You’ve done enough, Karis.”
    Karis did not lower her hand, though. “You’re looking rather harrowed, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
    Clement said, “My commanders won’t accept me as their general, though my G’deon commands it. Try to imagine what a position that puts me in.”
    Norina said, “Those officers are so angry with you, they can’t think clearly about what’s in their own best interests. But that Taram fellow is already more than half willing to change his alliances. You have a history with him? You can use that to win him back to your side. And he and Ellid could win over some three or four of the others, if there are no more disasters.” Norina then named the potential supporters, a surprising list of unsuspected friends. “That would give you six, anyway, six out of fourteen. Where are the other five?”
    “The western commanders haven’t arrived yet.”
    Norina glanced at Karis. “Are they on their way?”
    Karis’s gaze became unfocused for a moment. Then she said, “They’re nowhere on the Wilton-Hanishport Road.”
    They had entered the thick of the crowd. People slowly made way for Karis, until the first bier loomed. Shaftali words of pain flapped from the wooden frame and from the firewood piled beneath it. A funeral flag unfurled in Zanja’s hand. It seemed incredible that the cloth could float so