Free Women of War by Alexander Potter

sharing was different. The intensity of Skalet’s fascination with the old Kraal came through as clearly as the remembered chill from the outpost. I fluffed out my fur and shivered. “I thought Skalet didn’t want to be noticed.”
    â€œWhat have I told you about asking questions before you’ve finished assimilating?”
    â€œWasn’t a question,” I mumbled, hastily dipping back into memory.
    Ersh, as usual, was right. I now owned this part of Skalet’s past—whether I wanted to or not.
    Â 
    â€œThey tell me you don’t feel the cold, S’kal-ru. Is this true?”
    Skalet, granted the unthinkable privilege of being allowed to sit in the presence of such high rank, hesitated.
    â€œCome now. I didn’t invite you here to be a statue. If you won’t converse, let me hear that lovely voice of yours. Your commander didn’t exaggerate. Surely you sing.”
    Banter, from someone like this, was even more unthinkable. Skalet felt her skin warming as her stressed form dumped heat. Luckily, this intimate setting was, as befitted the outpost, barely above freezing. Their breath mingled and twisted in the air like the fumes of forgotten dragons. “I don’t sing, Your Eminence,” Skalet said with a hidden shudder, then added honestly. “I don’t mind the cold.”
    â€œYou don’t let yourself mind it. That is good. Very good. So few learn to control the flesh, to put aside the instincts that would keep us cowering by the fire.”
    As this didn’t seem to require a response, Skalet merely looked attentive. Her Eminence had taken Dal-ru’s office, a room hardly used since its location in a poorly insulated storage dome made it impossible to heat properly. Cases of beer lined the wall behind the ancient Kraal. She’d ignored them, more intent on this strange conversation.
    â€œSo tell me, Icicle, of the state of affairs among the Houses of Bract, Noitci, and Ordin.”
    On familiar ground again, Skalet took care to answer as any Kraal here could. “The Bract and Noitci share fourth-, possibly fifth-level historical affiliations; both hold ninth-level affiliation with House Bryll. Ordin is a newer House, also affiliated to House Bryll.” She flicked her fingers over her tattoo. “Through us, Ordin gains third-level affiliation with both Bract and Noitci.”
    The wrinkles and tattoos reshaped into a look of pure satisfaction. “The nexus being ours. The position of strength.”
    Skalet frowned slightly in thought, but didn’t dare speak.
    She didn’t have to. The Kraal was terrifyingly good at reading faces. “You see some flaw,” she guessed softly. “Interesting. Tell me. I grant you leave to criticize your own House.”
    â€œAs you wish.” Challenged, Skalet drew upon memory. “House Arzul, powerful yet inherently unstable, recently lost reputation and ships to Noitci, itself a fairly weak House, but thanks to a high-status alliance, temporarily enjoying a tenth-level affiliation with Bract, one of the strongest and noblest.” She found herself warming to her topic. Her own kin had no appreciation for the subtlety of this culture. “Arzul will rally to reclaim those losses. The nobles of Ordin are too impatient for power and lineage to let this opportunity slip by, or worse, be taken by a rival. They will attack Arzul, acquire affiliation with Noitci through blood debt, and thus gain ties to Bract. Unless House Bryll acts, it will be forced from the nexus to the outside of a new, powerful set of alliances, losing a great deal of status. Perhaps more than a House can afford to lose.” A disgraced Kraal House was like a fresh corpse to scavengers. Something to dismember.
    â€œActs how?” softer still. The Kraal noble leaned forward, creased chin on one palm, sunken eyes intent on Skalet. “Go on.”
    Skalet could see it so clearly, like pieces on a board