The Complete Empire Trilogy (144 page)

Settled on cushions under the tree beside the fountain, Mara regretted her preoccupation with security. For an envious moment she once again recalled Tasaio’s estate, a beautiful building on spacious grounds, fortified by steep hills and the naturally defensible valley with its lake and narrow tributary. Unlike other nobles situated in the low country, the Minwanabi Lord need not vigilantly keep guard over broad acres of borders. He required only sentries in watchtowers on his hilltops, and patrols stationed at key points along the perimeter of his estates. Where the Acoma required five full companies of a hundred warriors each dedicated to the main estate to optimally maintain its defences – a goal still unrealized after over a decade of carefully building her resources – the Minwanabi could do better with as few as two hundred soldiers guarding twice the land. That lower cost of security for the home estate provided Tasaio with resources for political mischief that Mara lacked, despite her rapidly expanding financial empire.

Mara regarded her circle of advisers, larger than before,
with younger faces added and older ones the more aged by contrast. Nacoya became more wrinkled and hunched with each passing month. Keyoke could not sit quite so erect, yet he remained a stickler for appearances. He kept his good leg crossed over his stump, and his crutch painstakingly out of view. For all his care, Mara could never quite accustom herself to the sight of him in house robes instead of armour.

For formal meetings of her council, no servants were present; but in the role of body slave, Kevin sat beside and behind her, surreptitiously playing with her hair, which she had let down from its pins. Then there were Jican, with his hands dusty from chalk, and Saric, young, eager, and shrewd around the eyes where Lujan was deceptively carefree. Her Spy Master had not yet returned from the docks of Sulan-Qu, where he had gone to meet the contact who carried intelligence from Pesh. Since Arakasi’s word would bear heaviest influence, Mara began before his arrival to lend time to hear her other advisers.

Nacoya opened. ‘Lady Mara, you know nothing of these upstart Hanqu. They are not an old family. They share none of your interests politically, and I worry they may be the glove for an enemy’s hand.’

The First Adviser’s views had grown increasingly cautious of late. The Lady of the Acoma was unsure if this resulted from Mara’s rise to the Clan Warchief’s office or from a fear of Tasaio that was deepening with age. Increasingly, Mara looked to Saric for a more balanced weighing of risk and gain.

Though barely out of his twenties, the soldier turned counsellor was quick-witted, sly, and often sarcastic in his advice; his overt playfulness seemed at odds with a deeper barbed cynicism, but his observations were consistently astute. ‘Nacoya’s reasoning is sound,’ he opened, his eyes boldly on Mara, and his hands running over and over a lacquered bracelet on his wrist as though he tested the edge
on a blade. He gave a soldier’s shrug. ‘But I would add that we know too little about the Lord of the Hanqu. If he acts in good faith, we would offend if we refuse to hear his case. Even if we could afford to affront this little house, we do not wish the Acoma to gain a reputation for being unapproachable. We might politely reject his alliance after hearing his cause, and no offence will be given.’ Sarik tipped his head slightly and ended with his customary question. ‘But, can we afford to refuse him without inquiring what his motives may be?’

‘A telling point,’ Mara conceded. ‘Keyoke?’

Her Adviser for War reached to straighten a helmet no longer there, and ended by scratching thinning hair. ‘I should look closely at the arrangements proposed for your conference. The Lord could have an assassin waiting, or an ambush. Where he wishes to meet with you, and under what conditions, will tell us much.’

That the former Force Commander did not question the necessity for a parley was not lost on Mara.

Lujan, from his days as a grey warrior, gave a new perspective. ‘The Hanqu are regarded as mavericks by the powerful houses of Pesh. I was acquainted with the cousin of one of my subofficers’ wives, who served Xaltepo as Patrol Leader. The Hanqu Lord was said to be a man who seldom shared his confidences, and did so only upon occasions of mutual advantage. That they are a new house has been said, but the rise of the family is due to their powerful business interests in the south.’

Jican followed Lujan’s lead and widened the picture. ‘The Hanqu have an interest in chocha-la. Being weak, at one time they were mercilessly exploited by the guilds. Lord Xaltepo’s father tired of losing his profits. When he came to power, he hired in his own bean grinders, and reinvested his chocha-la profits back into that enterprise. His son has continued to broaden the business, and now they are, if not
dominant, a major factor in the southern markets. He boasts a thriving trade and processes crops from other growers. It is possible he desires an arrangement that will bring the beans of our Tuscalora vassal into his drying sheds.’

‘In
Pesh?
’ Mara straightened, interrupting Kevin’s attentions. ‘Why should Lord Jidu risk the mould and damp of shipping his crops by sea, or the expense of an overland caravan?’

‘For profit,’ Jican speculated in his inimitably neat fashion. ‘The soil and the climate are wrong for chocha-la that far down the peninsula. Even the Hanqu’s inferior beans yield high revenues there. Most growers grind their crops close to home, to save the weight of shipping the husks. But the bean keeps better in its unshelled form, and the Hanqu spice grinders could get luxury prices for any chocha-la they could process in what now is idle time between seasons. And they effectively remove a potential rival from the local market. Eventually, such a relationship might provide an entrance for their goods into the heartland of the Empire.’

‘Then why not approach Lord Jidu?’ Mara argued.

Jican spread placating hands. ‘Lady, you may have allowed the Lord of the Tuscalora his rights to negotiate his finances, but among the merchants and factors in the cities you are spoken of as his overlord. They cannot conceive any ruler being as openhanded in policy as you have been; therefore, word in the markets says you are in control.’

‘Jidu would protest,’ Mara objected.

Now Nacoya leaned forward. ‘My Lady, he does not dare. He has his man’s pride; it rankles him to have been bested by a woman. Lord Jidu would rather avoid being the object of more street gossip than turn to you with complaint.’

The discussion of this point continued in depth, with
Kevin listening raptly. The Midkemian was silent not so much out of deference as fascination with the intricacy of Tsurani politics. Lately, if he contributed an opinion, it was less from ignorant impulse and more out of insight lent by an alien viewpoint.

Mara weighed the counsel of her advisers and tried to avoid the looming distraction of how much she was going to miss her barbarian when she finally faced her neglected responsibility and chose a suitable husband. Unsettled as the current politics became, she cherished this moment, surrounded by people who cared for her, and the soft, familiar warmth of the summer night.

Lantern light fell kindly over the faces of Keyoke and Nacoya, softening the lines of adversity; it caught Saric’s eyes in a moment of fired enthusiasm; and it hid the weariness in Jican’s posture.

Not a day passed that the hadonra failed to visit the remotest field on the estate; since Dustari, he visited the city every morning, leaving before sunrise and returning before midmorning, enduring two hours of travel to gain earliest word of trade fluctuations from his factors. Few opportunities escaped his diligence, but Mara wished adversities would ease, that she need not lean so heavily on his resources. Jican had taught her much in the intricate world of finance. And her other advisers had rescued the Acoma from disasters invited by her inexperience in her first days of leadership. Silently she thanked Lashima for the guidance of good people. With her pledge to Clan Hadama binding her, and the Minwanabi blood feud against her, she dared not contemplate the loss of any one of those present.

The talk at last wound down. Mara reviewed the major points, a pensive frown on her face. ‘It looks as though I should send a message to Lord Xaltepo, setting a meeting that will most favour my safety. Jican, could you arrange to rent one of the guild halls in Sulan-Qu?’

But a dry voice interrupted before the hadonra could answer. ‘My Lady, with all due respect, a public place might not be the best of choices.’

Unnoticed, quiet as shadow, Arakasi had slipped into the garden; as he bowed, Keyoke’s lips stiffened. Annoyed with himself for missing the moment when the guards at the entry granted a newcomer entrance, the old warrior would never admit his hearing was growing less acute.

Arakasi bowed, his face veiled by the loose cloth of a priest’s cowl. He waited in his distinctively quiet manner for Mara’s leave, then added, ‘I should warn at once that this request by Lord Xaltepo is known to the Minwanabi. My sources indicate that Tasaio is personally intent upon finding out where a meeting between my Lady and the Hanqu might take place. If a guild hall is rented, I fear there may be spies in the walls. And if there are presently no niches for unfriendly parties to eavesdrop, you can presume such would be constructed in time for our mistress’s conference. Tasaio is that persistent when he wants a thing.’

The Spy Master hesitated, as if his own words were distasteful to him. ‘My source was emphatic, much more so than usual. Tasaio wants knowledge of this meeting quite badly.’

Mara’s fingers tightened on her cuffs. ‘By this, I conclude that the Hanqu’s interests go against those of our enemies.’

‘It lends weight to the notion that the Hanqu’s desire for alliance is valid.’ But Arakasi did not seem entirely settled. ‘Too many unanswered questions remain. Expansion of the Hanqu’s spice enterprise seems a motive, but that is speculation. Also there’s a vague rumour that the Nimboni have been approached by Clan Shonshoni.’ The Spy Master’s manner betrayed disquiet. ‘There are things here that are
too
clear, given how much is unseen.’

‘You worry?’

‘Aye, Lady. Something in his …’ he shook his head.
‘Perhaps I’ve grown wary of too much information gained easily.’ He shrugged. ‘Not having kept a close watch upon the Hanqu, it’s not unreasonable that their affairs would escape my notice. I urge caution, though, in the extreme. Meet with Lord Xaltepo somewhere easily defended; if not here, upon your estates; if not on home ground, then somewhere close at hand where we keep an advantage.’

Mara weighed the advice. ‘You speak wisely, as always. Caution must be exercised. No opportunity for advantage can be wasted, however slight. I’ll meet with Lord Xaltepo, not in a guild hall, but in that glen in the mountains where Lujan’s band once made their camp. It is not upon Acoma soil, yet we have the advantage should any trouble arise.’

Arakasi looked dusty and gaunt after his hurried trip to town; Mara dismissed him to seek refreshment, and the rest of her advisers disbanded, talking among themselves. Once outside the garden, all would be silent concerning the subject of Lord Xaltepo.

Kevin alone remained seated. He slid his arms around Mara’s waist and buried his cheek in her hair. ‘What do you say to a special sort of council between the two of us?’

Mara turned her face to be kissed. Kevin’s hair glowed russet in the lantern light, and his hands well knew where to touch; as his lips closed over hers, Mara prepared to surrender her worries for the night.

‘My Lady,’ snapped Nacoya’s acerbic voice. Unwanted as a state visitor, the First Adviser lingered in the courtyard. ‘Stop your foolishness and hear warning.’

Mara disengaged from Kevin’s embrace. Her eyes were bright, her hair slightly mussed, and her temper short. ‘Speak, mother of my heart. But do not presume upon my patience.’ Lately her First Adviser seemed to seize upon every opportunity to insinuate the folly of Kevin’s presence. Though Mara understood that the old woman’s persistence stemmed from care, tonight she was determined to enjoy the
few moments she had left with the man she loved. However kindly meant, Nacoya’s concern was not welcome.

The First Adviser did not lecture about her inopportune choice of bedmate, but crossed her wrinkled arms and stood firmly. ‘You rely far too much on those spies of Arakasi’s.’

Mara’s gaze darkened. ‘They have never failed me.’

‘They have never dealt directly with Tasaio.’ Nacoya waved a stern finger. ‘Remember the silk caravans! Desio discovered one of Arakasi’s agents, and ill came of that. His cousin will not be so stupid. He’ll not be lulled into thinking he has no watchers in his house. But unlike Desio, Tasaio will not be led by hate on discovery his security was compromised. He would spare his traitor, even nurture the man, and await his moment to exploit.’

A breeze swayed the lantern. Netted by a moving play of shadows, Mara gestured her irritation. ‘Do you suggest we should rent the public guild hall? Depend upon the security provided by clanless men?’

Nacoya pinched her sleeves as the errant wind flapped her robe. ‘I say no such thing, except to beseech you to beware. Arakasi is very good, the best of men who work in secret I have ever heard of in my years of serving this house. But his former master of the Tuscai was ruined despite his spy ring. Remember
that.
Informants can be helpful, but they are never infallible. All tools can break, or be turned into weapons.’

Mara stiffened, acutely feeling the chill as Kevin’s warmth drew away. ‘Old mother, your warnings are heard. I thank you for your counsel.’