“Ah, you Tovans and your wagers!”
“Are you not Tovan?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take the bet!”
They both laughed at that, and Okoa felt the tension ease. It had been a good idea to get him away from the Great House. He was working too hard, worrying too much. The simple pleasures of bow and arrow, the natural world, and companionship were doing him good.
He took his stance and drew, bolt aligned along his cheek, target in sight.
“Your father was an impressive archer, too.” Chaiya’s words were quiet, but they had their intended effect.
Okoa froze. His heart accelerated, and he was suddenly light-headed. First Maaka the day in the sky cells, and now Chaiya. It was no coincidence, of that he was sure. But it was treacherous ground he did not wish to explore.
“Chaiya, no.”
“I know it was forbidden to speak of Ayawa when Yatliza was alive—”
He turned to face Chaiya, arrow pointed at his head. “I said no.”
Chaiya raised his hands, stepping back. “Easy, Okoa. I only want to talk of your father. There’s no one around to hear us.”
The strain pulled at his shoulder, but he kept the bowstring drawn. He had been gone from Tova since he was twelve, but he knew this much: “My father was a traitor. There is nothing else to talk about.”
“There is more, if you will hear it.”
His arm trembled. A growl started in his chest, pain manifested as sound. It escaped his lips in a low scream as he loosed the arrow, turning his aim just in time to miss hitting his cousin. The arrow flew harmlessly into the trees. Chaiya turned to watch its flight before facing him again. His eyes were wide.
Okoa did not bother to reply to his look of outrage.
Chaiya said nothing for a long minute. “Cousin…”
“I told you no.” Anger sat thick in his chest. He grabbed another arrow, nocked it, and drew, this time facing the target. He searched for the calm he had had before, but his concentration had fled. He lowered the bow, frustrated. “Damn you, Chaiya. First you make me doubt Benundah, and now this? What game are you playing?”
“No games. It’s just… we need to talk about your father. It is important, more so now.”
“Why?” The word came out a strangled plea.
Your father is a traitor. He could hear his mother’s hissed whisper as if it had happened that day and not a dozen years ago, her fingers gripping his arm, tears thick in her eyes. He has betrayed us, Okoa. And now the Sky Made will have his life for it.
“Did your mother ever tell you of his crime?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Okoa had been eight when his father was taken away. He had worked hard to forget the details, afraid of the memory. Fearful that if he spoke of his father, no, if he even thought of his father, people would remember his deeds and see the same taint on his son.
“He plotted rebellion.”
Okoa’s hand flexed, tightened around the bow. “Stop.”
“Independence for Carrion Crow. That’s what he believed in. He said the Sky Made had failed us on the Night of Knives and were as much our enemies as the Watchers. He dragged his best friend and your mother into his schemes, but during his trial, he took the blame upon himself and cleared their names. It is why they were spared, and he was not.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I do not want to see you make the same mistake. I see your face when you speak of the Odo Sedoh, Okoa. He confuses you, gives you false hope of some Carrion Crow future that can never be. You think that if we align with him and Maaka’s fanatics, Carrion Crow can be independent and free of the Sky Made.”
Had Esa told him what he had said?
“Is that so impossible?” Okoa’s voice was a whisper, as if he had confessed something in shame. As if his hope was not meant to be spoken aloud. “He is worth a hundred men, a thousand if he rallies the crows to his side.” His voice rose. “And look at what gathers in the yard. An army. And with the Watchers gone, what Shield could stand against us?”
“Think practically, Okoa. We need access to the mines north of Titidi, the farms east of Kun, and the trade routes through the Tovasheh. Tova functions only as a city, not divided into districts.”
“Then we use him to bring all of Tova under our wing.”
Chaiya’s mouth tightened in disapproval, and Okoa flushed, exasperated. It was treason he spoke now, he knew, but he would not take it back. He still held the bow clenched in his fist, and he slammed it down on the table, sending the remaining arrows tumbling to the ground. He strode away, hands gripping his head in frustration.