"Mai? I'm going down now. Do you want to come?"
Reluctantly, Mai pulled her gaze away from the road and the plain. "Will you be able to get any news? Of the business of those eagles?"
"It will come to us in time. I'll tell you whatever I can find out."
"May I stay up here? That way, I can see them. " If they come.
Miravia took her hand and smiled softly. "You will want to stay in the shade. The sun gets very strong this time of year. I'll come as soon as I hear anything. Or with midday soup, if that comes later."
"I'd like that. What of my sl-my hired women?"
Miravia glanced around, but by this time they were alone on the roof. "Are they slaves? Eliar told our father they were hired. Else the clan would not have allowed you in!" She seemed about to say something more, but did not.
"I'm sorry."
"Are you ashamed to own slaves?"
Mai considered her statement for so long that Miravia blushed, and let go of her hand.
"Have I offended you?"
"No. I'm not ashamed. In Kartu, there have always been slaves. That's just how it is. I've never heard of people who don't own slaves. Are there any who own no slaves, besides your people?"
Miravia laughed bitterly. "Don't let the old ones hear you ask. The truth is, I don't know. How should I? We're not taught such things."
A lively tenor bell rang three times.
"That's prayer bell. Now I really have to go." With a kiss, Miravia departed.
IT WAS BETTER to wait alone. It was easier that way to find a place of calm and silence in which to wait. Mai made herself a place to sit in the shade where she could watch the northern road. From this angle, she could not see the river crossing, which she understood was some manner of floating bridge. Nor could she see Argent Hall, which lay too many mey away for the human eye to see, although Miravia had told her that an eagle soaring above Olossi could mark a path to the reeve hall because of its astonishing eyesight. For someone who claimed to know nothing of the outside world, Miravia knew a great deal, although naturally Mai could not be sure all of it was true. She herself knew so little of the Hundred that anyone might tell her a wild tale with enough evidence of sincerity, and she would believe it. In Kartu, they had laughed at her appetite for tales. Now, of course, she was living the adventure she had taught herself to dream of but never expect. Yet, of course, the tales and songs usually ended in tragedy. So she sat, watching the road, as the sun rose to its zenith. She did not weep. Either Anji would die, or he would live. Nothing she did now could alter that.
Sometime later, an eagle beat up from Olossi's walls, then with wings open seemed to stop moving and simply to rise up and up as though lifted by an invisible hand. It flew out along the track of the northern road, and was quickly lost to her sight. Below, the courtyards and kitchens came to life, fires lit and stoked, huge pots hauled out, as if in preparation for a festival feast. No one disturbed her; no one came up the tower at all.
Her life lived within the strictures of the Mei clan had trained her well for this day, out of all days, when she must accept that, right now, there was nothing she could do to alter the course of events she had helped set in motion. There was nothing she could do except wait.
MUCH LATER, MIRAVIA brought up a kettle, a pair of bowls, and a dipper. Together, they sat on a bench in the shade and drank their soup. Miravia had pulled her hair back into a scarf.
"Heard you any news?"
"No. I've been too busy. We've been set to a new task, wrapping rags and dry rushes into torches and soaking them in oil."
"What for? Do they expect to be attacked at night?"
Miravia shrugged. "I am not an adult. I'm not allowed to know."
"Is it something I can help with?"
"I'm sorry. If they wanted you, they would send my mother to ask."
"I suppose I'm best left here, out of the way! It's so hard to wait. Anything would be easier. Look at you. All of you. It seems you work all the time, at all manner of tasks. I saw your mother sweeping! Do your women do everything? Even if you own no slaves, have you no hired folk?"
"We are all servants of the Hidden One," said Miravia, surprised at this question. "The work of the world is our sacred labor." She touched the lattice screen. Her smile was bitter. "Although I wish I had as much right to walk freely through the city as does my brother, who runs a shop."
"You visit the prison."
"With an escort. Provided grudgingly by my elders, since they cannot think of a way to refuse my request, which I can honestly claim is an obligation."
Mai sighed. She had no good answer to this. In Kartu, a married woman must be prudent in how she walked about town, lest gossip destroy her reputation. In the empire, the women lived entirely sequestered, although Mai still found this difficult to believe. And Anji had mentioned that the priests of Beltak had given grudging approval to the Ri Amarah because of their customs regarding how they separated their own women from public life.
Abruptly, Miravia pressed a small hand on Mai's forearm. "Listen!"
There fell a hush, and out of it, as loud as judgment, the Voice of the Walls cried its plangent warning five times before it ceased. A shout rose from the walls as guards called out in a thin echo of the bell. The two girls ran to the other side of the tower. As they stared in the direction of West Track, other women came up the stairs and pushed to get a look until so many were crowded there that the ones pressed against the lattice had to call back the details of what they saw to those waiting behind them.
West Track had begun to move, only it was not the road that had come alive but an army marching upon its surface. Steadily, in their ranks, they closed the distance. The searing heat of the afternoon did not affect their pace. A few stalwarts who had remained in the outer city clamored at the gates, begging to be let in. Around Mai, some women wept while others pressed their lips tight and scurried away to be about useful tasks. She smelled oil boiling. A harsh stench rose out of the kitchens, making her eyes water. It seemed half the kitchens in Olossi were boiling vats and kettles. The air wavered, rippling with a haze. Far away, in the southeast, a line of cloud massed. This mass ran so dark, and lay so low along the horizon, that at first she thought it was another army, but Miravia tugged excitedly on her arm and exclaimed:
"The rains! The rains are coming early, before the new year begins! It's as if they're marching in pursuit of our enemies!"
Midday crept into afternoon. The second eagle and its rider fled town. The first ranks of that dreadful army swarmed down the southern slopes and began to set up in a wide half circle around the outer walls. More came, filling in the gaps.