"I'm glad," she said. She kept her face neutral. "Mine has been busy. My son had a stomachache and was up half the night, and he didn't want to go to class today. I had to sit with him during the first one."
"How old is he?"
"Five."
"Beautiful age."
"It is."
"You have him for a long time still. Enjoy him."
The words had been delivered with a smile, with none of the sadness that usually accompanied the prospect of the boys being taken away forever.
Sullha kept her face schooled.
"Yes," she said. "A long time still."
They picked up the next round of trays.
The kitchen was hot, and the air smelled of onions and animal fat and something burning at the back of one of the stoves. One of the cooks swore and pulled a pan off the heat. The pan hissed.
Sullha balanced her trays and walked out toward the dining tables again.
"Do you have children?" she asked Vinnah casually, while they walked.
Vinnah's expression brightened. "I have a son. He is all grown now. He's a warrior for Mortdh."
Vinnah had said it with pride.
A warrior for Mortdh. That was a term used by those calling themselves Sacred Mothers.
Sullha set down her trays at the third table and began distributing bowls, and as she worked, she thought about Number Eight.
She did not know him. Yaaf had told her that Number Eight was the most volatile of their team, the one whose moods were themost unstable. He had said this matter-of-factly, but Sullha had heard the protectiveness underneath it. The care.
She imagined Number Eight as a boy of thirteen, marched out of the only home he had ever known with his mother's humming still in his ears. She had imagined him as a big, tough warrior asking Number One to find his mother.
He would be so disappointed.
Setting down the last bowl on her tray, she walked back to the station.
She had to confirm before she delivered the bad news. She did not actually need to do that because she already knew, but just in case she was wrong, she had to give Vinnah another chance.
Sullha picked up her last two trays and fell in step with Vinnah.
"You must be so proud of your son." She kept her voice low.
"Oh, I am. There is no greater glory for a woman than to deliver warriors for Mortdh's holy army. I'm just so grateful that my womb was blessed with a male child."
"Praise be to Mortdh," Sullha said.
Vinnah's whole face transformed. The peaceful expression she'd been wearing brightened into ecstasy, and her eyes shone with the kind of fervor that Sullha had only seen on the faces of the Sacred Mothers.
"Praise be to Mortdh," Vinnah answered. "Blessed be his name."
Sullha kept the beatific smile she'd plastered on.
"You said that like a holy sister," Vinnah whispered. "Did you join a circle recently?"
