Joumina glared at her for hinting at the secret. Did she really think no one had noticed the swirling embroidery of night steeds upon Nothrin's clothing? Could it just be a boy's fascination with a long-forgotten constellation? A name no one could utter openly since the Fifth Accord?

Gishna shook her head and turned away. Oh no, that name was a shooting star for those with the memory and the eyes to see. Joumina knew; that was certain. And she meant to do something with him. But what?

Zaidra settled down. Did Gishna's remark remind her that Zauhune had something of value within its domain?

“An interesting name, I'll grant you,” she said. “Still, it is out of your power, Joumina. I would have to approach the matron of that house. Interestingly, a servant of yours. Should a matron of a high house approach such a lowly priestess?”

Joumina lowered her gaze, her lips in a knowing smile. “I'd not come here to conduct a transaction of consortship, Zaidra, though your offer is intriguing. Which daughter, though? The first or second? Or the youngest? We can wait. The spear is still in his hands and will be while he wins. And I think we all here want him to continue winning.”

Zaidra offered no counter. The fire had turned to deep blue embers, consuming every scrap of wood. Only small traces of ash remained.

Gishna had to tread carefully. She couldn't anger Zaidra. She needed the eldest for Saugraen. The prospect of a union with Zauhune, or this new house named after a master of Isilayne and the lost founding house of Xaeltrin, still had to be kept in play. And then there was the land.

“And what of these lands in the south?” Gishna asked, her low, hoarse voice amplified by the enchanted fire. “How do you intend to manage them?” She made it sound like mere curiosity, a concerned neighbor only. “The north valley can be so harsh in comparison.”

Joumina seemed to welcome the change in discussion, and she seemed less wilting under Zaidra's glare.

“Indeed. The south will be a welcome change, though things are quite different there.”

“Your northern barbarians are not the kind to mate with,” Zaidra said.

“Are there any worth mating with?” Gishna offered, gently rescuing Joumina. Zaidra's words stung them all. It was common knowledge the other two high houses, Daushalan and Roturra, absorbed other peoples, dousing them with gray paints to make them look the part. Their houses swelled. Only Zaidra's house and its blood houses remained unsullied. Neither Zauhune nor Hosmyr could claim such purity, but at least they didn't fake it.

“I'm sure Hosmyr's knowledge and experience would help us increase yields on these lands. We could make an exchange?”

“If this is all you have, I must go.” Zaidra rose. It was no ploy.

Gishna raised her hand slightly, as if to draw her back to the fire, but Zaidra's knights fell in behind her.

Joumina shook her head. “Impossible, that woman. If I treated thus with my vassals, I'd have nothing at all.”

Gishna blinked, mouth slightly agape, her old woman face. It might just encourage the younger matron to spill her thoughts.

“I came to share, to strengthen this alliance. She can't let things go. Can't move on. This is a new age, after all.”

“Is it?” Gishna asked.

“Well, of course! My champion may summon the Dark, but what is more important is how the people cheer him on, how well they work now that they have hope. No one expects them to summon dark or wield spears. Let them have their piety. Let them pin their hopes and expectations on him. They make Zalkamas richer.”

“I see,” Gishna said softly, plaintively.

“What is it? Do you see things differently?”

Gishna shook her head. “I'd merely thought that there was more to this effort than getting new land. Though I assure you, Hosmyr is happy to aid in the soil's remediation. I understand Roturra's vassals treat the land like whipped chattel.”

“Well, of course, yes. That's right.”

“Your heiress will consort soon, I understand?” Gishna asked.

Joumina blinked once. “What of it?”

“I offer my congratulations and a blessing for favor.”

Joumina seemed lost, searching through what she thought might be a trap.

“I thank you,” she said.

Gishna left it at that. Joumina had a second unconsorted daughter, an unconsorted and aging first son, and Gishna had many matches at her disposal.

“To whom should I send my steward?” Gishna said.

Joumina stared, mouth agape, wondering what her ploy was.

“I've not decided yet,” she said.

“We could offer suggestions.”

“For?”

“Which houses of yours might have the best aptitude to work those lands?”

And the bloodlines most suitable to my needs, Gishna thought. She negotiated with Zaidra, but perhaps the best possibility lay with Joumina. She was more open and amenable to negotiation.

Joumina’s eyes widened, more at ease now that Zaidra was gone. “I'd intended to grant you both a part of the lands. But now⁠—”

Gishna interrupted with a cough, and wheezed, “Ilor'Hosmyr welcomes the opportunity. It did not send its sons to the court without purpose.”

Joumina's brows lifted. “Well then,” she said, “it's refreshing to know some here see the future.”

Yes, the future. But what future? Gishna saw little but shadows. “Which lands would you consider sharing with those that so willingly aided your champion?” she asked.

“I'll mention it to Verxaen,” Joumina replied with a happy smirk. “He'll be in charge of it all.”

Of course he will, Gishna thought. While you wait for Vakayne to decide how it will distribute its precious daughters.

“I'll send my chief steward, then,” Gishna said. “And my heiress. It would do her well to be present and learn.”

Joumina's eyes popped wide. She always got that look when she had an idea. Julissa and Verxaen, a match across high houses. It wasn't an unsuitable match, but first they must evaluate his lineage with the seer's sorcery.

“We look forward to it,” Joumina said. “In the Rilanik, perhaps? Pleasure always makes negotiation more pleasant.”

Gishna nodded, but her mind was already working on how to get a sample from Verxaen Ilor'Zauhune. What did it matter if he was no better than his mother? All that mattered was whether a union with him could abolish the taint in her daughter. Let the rest come later. Time was something the Mornae could still count on.

She rose, extricating herself from the chair, her bones and joints aching in protest. Stiffness pervaded her. Nothing wanted to move.

Joumina waited and then rose smoothly, respectful of Gishna's age, even though she was high matron of the second high house, and unlike Zaidra, respected the ordinances of the Fifth Accord over the earlier dictates. She was higher, yet she acknowledged Gishna for something other than chits or pride.

Once on her feet, Joumina held her jeweled hands out, palms up, the position of a priestess, and Gishna reciprocated. Then Joumina turned and left Gishna there, hands empty but her mind full of possibilities.