Free Traitor's Moon by Lynn Flewelling Page B

Because of her, Raghar Ashnazai’s scrolls remained tucked away out of sight in Ulan’s study. The fact that the Khatme khirnari would travel so far to meet with him might be interpreted by some as a sign of support, yet who could guess what any of that strange clan was thinking behind their painted eyes and elaborate tattoos?
    The others were a different matter. Elos í Orian, khirnari of nearby Goliníl, was husband to Ulan’s daughter. Malleable, and transparent as water, Elos understood how intertwined the interests of the Goliníl were with those of Virésse.
    Old Galmyn í Nemius, who’d come east from Lhapnos bearing messages of support from his own clan and the Haman, was another matter. The interests of those two clans were more complex, and more obscure, yet they had both voted against the impending delegation from Skala. What would have happened, Ulan wondered, if the Skalans had not insisted on bringing the Bôkthersan exile, Seregil í Korit, with them? No matter, really. It would work to his favor at Sarikali.
    â€œWe meet under a propitious moon,” Elos í Orian observed cheerfully.
    Lhaär ä Iriel spared him a cold glance. “The same moon shines on all. As I recall, it was under Aura’s Bow that the vote went against you at the Iia’sidra.”
    â€œOnly that the delegation could come, nothing more,” Galmyn í Nemius reminded her tersely. No doubt his thoughts echoed Ulan’s:
“Went against you,” she’d said, not “us.” What is the woman doing here?
    â€œJust fifty years ago the Skalans would have been given a flat refusal,” Elos observed. “Now we agree to parley with them—and at Sarikali! That most certainly means
something
.”
    â€œPerhaps that the western clans are gaining influence,” Ulan said. “Their interests are not necessarily compatible with our own.”
    â€œOne might say the same of Lhapnos and Virésse,” Galmyn í Nemius put in dryly. “Yet here I am.”
    â€œLhapnos stands with the Haman, and the Haman stand against Bôkthersa and the other border clans. There’s no mystery there,” Lhaär ä Iriel stated bluntly.
    Ulan smiled. “I enjoy plain speech among friends. Perhaps you would explain where Khatme stands?”
    â€œIn the mind of Aura, as always. The Khatme have no love for Tírfaie of any sort, but the Skalans honor Aura, under the name of IIlior. Although they blaspheme by placing the Lightbearer with other gods, their wizards are descendants of our own Orëska and continue to thrive. It presents us with a great quandary, one which neither the Lightbearer nor the dragons have yet clarified to our priests.”
    Galmyn í Nemius arched one greying brow. “In other words, you still have a leg on either side of the stile.”
    The clan marks on Lhaär ä Iriel’s face seemed to subtly rearrange themselves as she turned to him. “That is not at all what I said, Khirnari.”
    The Lhapnosan’s self-important smile died on his lips. For a long moment the others found it more comfortable to return their attention to the moon.
    â€œWho can we be sure of, then?” asked Elos.
    â€œBesides ourselves and Haman, with due respect to you, Lhaär, I think we may also depend on the Ra’basi,” replied Ulan. “The Akhendi remain uncertain, but have more to gain from supporting open borders. A few others must be swayed.”
    â€œIndeed,” the Lhapnosan murmured. “And who better than you to sway them?”

6
L EAVING H OME , G OING H OME
    T he following day was filled with final preparations for Klia’s voyage. A steady stream of baggage carts and dispatch riders raised clouds of dust along the vineyard road all morning.
    Alec went with Seregil and Klia down to the shipyard to inspect the three vessels anchored there. Dressed in plain riding clothes and mounted on scrub