“The guard. She said there would be food.”
She shrugged and hunched further down in her cloak, hoping that would be the end of it.
Uncle Kuy sighed his disappointment and turned back to the women. “Anyway, she said there would be food.”
“Did she say what?” the older woman asked. “I hope it’s stew. A good stew would settle us all.”
Xiala tuned out their banter and focused on the stranger. “Are you going to report me to the guards?”
“Why?” The voice sounded amused. “Have you done something worthy of reporting?”
“Xiala!” Uncle Kuy called again.
She swallowed her exasperation. “Yes, Uncle?”
She heard the stranger beside her chuckle softly.
“Did the guard say the Odohaa were meeting with the matron?”
She shook her head and lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
“Maaka and the other Odohaa have gone into the Great House to meet with the matron,” the stranger offered to the group. “They plan the future as we speak.”
“Who is Maaka?” Uncle Kuy asked.
“The leader of the Odohaa. Friend to Lord Okoa himself,” the younger woman answered.
“I know Lord Okoa, too!” Uncle Kuy puffed his chest out a bit.
The stranger leaned in. “How is that, friend?”
Uncle Kuy’s face fell as he realized his mistake. “A family acquaintance,” he offered hastily. “We met once.” His gaze shifted to the women, who looked at him as if he was hiding something, which, of course, he was.
“Is not Lord Okoa the one who took the Odo Sedoh from Sun Rock?” Xiala asked.
“Aye,” the older woman said enthusiastically. “The Reckoning!”
“The Reckoning?” the stranger said, voice soft. “Is that what they are calling it?”
“That is what it was! And some say Lord Okoa aided the Odo Sedoh in his work. That he held the knife that took the Priest of Knives’ life as revenge for what happened at his mother’s funeral.”
The stranger seemed to tense at that, but whatever the emotion, it was gone before Xiala could name it.
“What happened at the funeral?” Uncle Kuy asked, eyes moving between the two parties.
The younger woman launched into her tale eagerly, but Xiala only half listened. She was more interested in studying her neighbors. Xiala had thought at first that the three were together, but it seemed that the person next to her didn’t know the mother and daughter and had perhaps only joined them to warm by the fire. She had glimpsed no more than a sharp chin and a bowed lower lip, and the person’s hands were sheathed in gloves.
“—a wedding!”
“What’s this?” The daughter’s exclamation brought Xiala’s attention back. “I thought you said a funeral.”
“The funeral was before. We were speculating about the matron’s wedding.”
“They think she will marry the Odo Sedoh,” Uncle Kuy said quietly, his voice sympathetic.
Xiala was stunned to silence.
“It’s a smart match,” the mother said, misreading Xiala’s shock for doubt. “Surely, then none would challenge Carrion Crow’s supremacy.”
Uncle Kuy patted Xiala’s knee in reassurance. “It is only speculation. Neither the matron nor the Odo Sedoh has said it is so.”
“It’s not a marriage of love,” the mother said. “It is a marriage of alliances.”
“Although it could be love,” the daughter protested. “The matron is very beautiful.”
“And wealthy,” Uncle added.
“And powerful,” the stranger said, head tilted toward Xiala.
Xiala stood, annoyed at these strangers speculating on Serapio’s fate. She knew it was only gossip, but she did not have to sit and listen to it. “I need to take a piss. Where are the latrines?”
Both women pointed north, the older woman looking slightly horrified at her rough language, but Xiala could not find it within herself to care. Before anyone could reprimand her or, worse, offer to accompany her, she stomped off in the direction they’d indicated.
“Be back for food soon!” Uncle Kuy shouted after her.
She waved over her shoulder to show she’d heard.
The latrines were no more than waist-high fencing arranged as stalls positioned over a trench. She had seen worse, much worse, and she’d never had a shy bladder, so the public display didn’t bother her. But her cloak was unmanageable if she was going to squat, so she took it off and draped it over a nearby wall. Her hair spilled down her back in plum-colored waves, but it was dark in the twilight, and people were polite enough to avert their eyes from a woman in a private moment.