Mistress of the Empire

by Raymond E. Feist

  Mara noted Lord Keda's keen study. 'Let me introduce you to Arakasi, a valued servant of the Acoma who commands our highest respect.'

  Lord Keda's interest sharpened. This nondescript man with his almost inhuman attentiveness: could he be the fabled Spy Master that had kept the Acoma so miraculously well informed?

  The man answered directly, as if uncannily he could read Lord Keda's thoughts from the play of expressions on his face. 'I have resigned from my former post,' he admitted, his voice like velvet rubbed on stone. 'Once I was Spy Master for the Acoma. Now I have discovered that life and nature hold secrets more profound than intrigues fashioned by men.'

  Lord Keda considered this remarkable statement, fascinated by the man who had uttered it.

  But the Emperor they all attended was young yet for subtle nuances. He squirmed impatiently on his gilded cushions and clapped his hands to his runner. 'Fetch in the prisoner.'

  Two Imperial Whites entered, flanking a slender man with bitten nails and shrewd eyes. Lord Keda recognised Chumaka, who had served the late Lord Jiro as First Adviser. The Imperial Chancellor frowned, wondering why he had been summoned to this private council, since his was not a judicial office. His appointment was more an administrator's than one of tribunal authority who could seal an accusation of treason.

  For surely Lord Jiro had been behind the assassination of the Emperor Ichindar; Omechan had inherited the siege engines, and Omechan armies had been in place to back the Anasati plot to seize the throne. Chumaka could not have escaped involvement; all too likely, the deadly plan had been of his own design.

  Mara responded to Lord Keda's trepidation. 'You have been called here as witness,' she explained quietly, then faced forward as Chumaka awarded the Emperor a deep bow. He followed with an obeisance to Mara, murmuring, 'Great Lady, I have heard of your reputation. I cast myself at your mercy and humbly beg for my life.'

  Lord Keda frowned. The man had been Lord Jiro's adviser; he had surely been party to the murder of Hokanu's father, as well as to the poisoning of Lady Mara herself.

  That Mara knew this was mirrored in her face. The expressionless line of her mouth hinted at underlying pain: but for this man's meddling, and a nearly successful attempt on her life, she might still be capable of childbearing. The husband she had been compelled to renounce might yet be at her side.

  Chumaka held his pose of prostration, his hands trembling slightly. There was no arrogance in him; his humiliation seemed deeply genuine.

  'Justin,' Mara murmured, her tone husky.

  The boy gave his mother a glance that hinted at rebellion.

  Mara braced herself, but it was Arakasi who coached the boy in her place.

  'Majesty,' he said in a tone that grated like old rust, 'there are times to hold grudges, and other times to grant clemency. I urge you to choose as a man, and as Emperor. Consider wisely. This man who throws himself on your mercy is the most brilliant foe I have ever known. You've already pardoned every other enemy in the Nations, but this one must be specially exempted. Either order him executed, banish him for life, or swear him to your service and give him a commission. He is far too dangerous to let run free inside the Empire.'

  Justin's red brows gathered into a frown. He thought long and hard. 'I cannot decide,' he said at last. 'Mother, this man has been responsible for more pain than any other. His life is yours to dispose of as you will.'

  The Lady in her red of mourning stirred. She regarded the thinning hair of the man who crouched at her feet. It took her a long time to speak. 'Rise, Chumaka.'

  The prisoner obeyed, all of his cleverness absent. He regarded the Lady whose choice would determine his fate, and by the deep stillness in his eyes, all in the chamber could see: he knew of no reason under heaven why she should grant him reprieve. 'As my Lady wills,' he murmured in a dead voice.

  Mara's gaze bored into him. 'Answer me on your honor; swear by your spirit that will be bound to the Wheel of Life after this existence shall end: why did you do it?'

  She did not specify which of his crimes he should answer for. Perhaps naming them separately was too hurtful to her. More likely, she was too numbed by events to care; or else she was guileful, leaving the selection to Chumaka, that she could divine his deeper motives from his choice.

  Chumaka's quick intellect floundered. He sighed, conceding her the match. As she had questioned, so he answered in general terms. And for the first time in his long and disingenuous life, he spoke the plain truth. 'For my master's service, in part. But in the main, for my love of the Great Game, my Lady. In this, I served myself, not Jiro or Tecuma before him. I was loyal to the House of Anasati, yes, but also not; I did my Lord's bidding, but the joy of manipulating politics was always my own, private thing. You were the best the gods had placed upon the soil and under the sun, and to defeat you' - he shrugged - 'would have been the most glorious triumph in the history of the Great Game.'

  Arakasi sucked in a breath. Too plainly he had understood the words of the antagonist who had come nearer than any man to besting him at subterfuge and wit, murder and plotting.

  'That was my miscalculation,' he murmured, as if he and Chumaka were alone. 'I presumed that you acted for your master's honor. There was where you nearly had me: your motive was ever your own at heart, and Jiro's honor be damned.'

  Chumaka inclined his head. 'To win, yes, was always the goal. The honor of the master is in victory.' Then he turned back to Lady Mara. 'No one understands this better than you, mistress. For the winner decides what is honor and what is not.' He fell silent, awaiting pronouncement of his sentence.

  The Mistress of the Empire clasped taut hands in her lap. She did not, in the end, speak for herself. 'Would you serve the Empire, Chumaka?'

  A fiery light shone in the former Anasati adviser's eyes. 'Gladly, mistress. Despite vows of obedience and loyalty, many of those at your banquet drinking your wine tonight will be plotting your overthrow tomorrow. Keeping this new Empire from crumbling would be the greatest challenge any man could face.'

  Mara's gaze shifted to Arakasi. 'Would you entrust your network to this man?'

  The Spy Master of the Acoma narrowed his eyes and answered with barely a hesitation. 'Yes. Better than I, he could run my agents. His pride in his work would keep them safer than I ever could, even before I lost my touch.'

  Mara nodded to herself. 'So I thought. You had never found your heart. We need not fear this happening to Chumaka. He has none, save for his work.'

  She faced Chumaka. 'You will take oath to serve your Emperor as Spy Master. As punishment for your past crimes against this Empire, and as penance, you will serve your new Light of Heaven to the last breath in your body. Lord Keda stands as witness.' As Chumaka regarded the remarkable Lady who had large enough heart to forgive him for some of the greatest sorrows in her life, and as disbelief gave way to dawning joy, he lost the chance to thank her. She dismissed him summarily, in the care of Lord Keda, to swear his oath of fealty and set the words under the imperial seal.

  As the Imperial Whites and the Chancellor left the chamber, Mara and Justin were left alone with Arakasi. The Lady regarded the remarkably talented man who had taken innumerable guises, from the lowest scabby beggar in the gutters, to the glittering gold-edged armor of an elite warrior in Justin's retinue. All that she had achieved she owed in part to him. His ability to perceive without prejudice had served her more than loyalty, more than duty, more than treasure or wealth. 'There is only one post left unfilled,' she said at last, her mouth showing signs of a smile. 'Will you take the mantle of Imperial First Adviser? I very much doubt there is any other man living with a fast enough mind to keep Justin out of mischief.'

  Arakasi returned a grin that was startling for its spontaneity. 'What does Justin think?'

  Mara and her former Spy Master glanced at the boy, whose face was utterly crestfallen.

  'He thinks he will lose out in his escapades,' Mara concluded with a laugh. 'Which decides the issue. Will you accept, Arakasi?' />
  'I would be honored,' he replied solemnly. And then delight showed through his façade. 'More; I would be pleased.'

  'Then prepare to begin your duties tomorrow,' Mara finished. 'Tonight is yours, to seek out your lady Kamlio.'

  Arakasi quirked up one brow in an expression no one present had ever seen.

  'What is it?' Mara asked gently. 'Has the girl rejected your suit?'

  Arakasi's manner became bemused. 'She has not. In fact, she has agreed I may pay court to her - for a former courtesan, she suddenly desires a large measure of propriety. Her moods are still changeable, but she is no longer the sullen child you took with you into Thuril.' He shook his head a little in bemused wonder. 'Now she has discovered her self-worth, it remains to be seen whether I am a match for her.'

  'You are,' Mara assured him. 'I have seen. Do not doubt.' Then she looked closely at the man whose thoughts had stimulated hers to new heights and long leaps of revelation. 'You wish to ask a favor,' she guessed.

  Arakasi looked uncharacteristically chagrined. 'As a matter of fact, yes, I do.'

  'Name it.' Mara said. 'If it is within my power to grant, it is already yours.'

  The man in the unobtrusive green-bordered robe, who would soon wear the white and gold of imperial service, smiled shyly. 'I would ask you to assign Kamlio's service to Isashani of the Xacatecas,' he said in a rush of embarrassed words.

  Mara laughed outright. 'Brilliant!' she said when next she could speak. 'Of course! No one, man or woman, has ever escaped the charm of the dowager Lady of the Xacatecas. Kamlio will do well with her, and you will gain a superbly trained wife.'

  Arakasi's eyes glittered. 'She will certainly become a manipulator equal to my best effort.'

  Mara waved him away. 'You need a woman of wits to keep your acuity,' she chided fondly. 'Now go and tell Lady Isashani that the most difficult match in all the Empire is her bag of knots to untangle. She'll be delighted to oblige, I am sure.'

  'Why?' Justin demanded outright, as Arakasi made his graceful bow and habitually silent exit. 'Do all women amuse themselves in such fashion?'

  The Mistress of the Empire sighed and gazed fondly upon her son, whose frankness could be an embarrassment, for his ability to set words to truths that were a breach of good manners and all too often resulted in reddened ears. 'Visit your predecessor's harem, sometime, and you will see,' she said. Then, as Justin's eyes took on an unholy gleam of mischief, she added hastily, 'On second thought, that part of your education can wait until you are grown. You are too like your father to be set loose among rival women at a tender age.'

  'What do you mean?' Justin demanded.

  Mara gave her son a faraway smile. 'When you are older, and I am no longer your regent, you will see.'

  The garden was secluded, a green haven of shade surrounded by flowers and fountains. Mara wandered its paths, seeking peace. Hokanu walked at her side, from time to time speaking, other times wrapped in silence. 'I shall miss you,' he said, in a heart-wrenching shift of subject.

  'And I you,' Mara said quickly, lest she lose her voice entirely. 'More than I can say.'

  Hokanu gave her back a brave smile, his loss carefully walled away. 'You have certainly enlivened the gossip and given Lady Isashani pause for thought. She will be busy writing letters, and I will have to fend off the results of her matchmaking.'

  Mara tried to smile at his humor. 'You are the best a woman could wish for in a husband. You gave love without condition. You never held me back from my destiny.'

  'No man could,' Hokanu admitted wryly. Unspoken behind his words was an anger for the works of Jiro's assassin: if not for the tong's ugly poison, he would not be losing the only woman who would ever match him in spirit.

  Mara plucked a white flower, and Hokanu gently took it from her. As he had once done before, he wound it in her hair. There were light strands amid the black, now, that matched the hue of the petals.

  'You gave me a beautiful daughter to follow after me,' Mara said. 'One day she will have brothers who are your sons.'

  Hokanu could only nod. After a long moment of just walking at the Lady's side, he said, 'There is a certain elegance in your being succeeded by Kasuma as Ruling Lady.' His smile was bittersweet. 'Our daughter. My father would be pleased to know that our children will rule two great houses.'

  'He is,' announced a voice.

  Lord and Lady spun around in surprise. Deep in mystery in his black robes, Fumita offered them both a bow. 'More than you know . . . my son.' The admission of kinship was not wrung from him, but a glad pronouncement that the changed status of the Assembly now made possible. The magician's stern face broke into a startlingly brilliant smile. 'Lady Mara, always think of yourself as my daughter.' Then his manner became impassive, as he delivered his official message. 'I asked to be the one to inform the Great Mistress that the Assembly has voted. The decision was reluctant, but the magicians concede to her demands. Our order will be answerable to the new law, as set down by the Emperor Justin over the Nations.'

  Mara inclined her head in respect. She half expected Fumita to effect the same abrupt departure that was his habit when he saw his part as finished.

  But as if his admission of kinship with his son had opened the floodgates of change, this one time he lingered. 'My son, my daughter, I wish you both to know that your courageous actions are approved. You have done Acoma and Shinzawai honor. I only wish my brother — Hokanu's foster father — were still alive to bear witness.'

  Hokanu kept an impassive face, but Mara could sense his great pride. A crooked smile finally cracked his warrior's façade, matched almost at once by a mirroring one from Fumita. 'I guess none of the scions of House Shinzawai are adept at keeping tradition,' the magician observed. To Mara he added, 'You may never know how difficult it has been, sometimes, for our kind to give up the life we knew before our power was recognised. It is worse for those like myself, who were grown men with families when our power manifested. The Assembly's secrets have crippled our emotions, I sometimes think. That has been a tragic mistake. We were forced to wall away our feelings, and as a consequence, acts of cruelty seemed removed from us. As change refreshes us, we will reawaken to our humanity. In the end, we of the Assembly will grow to have cause to thank you, and to bless Lady Mara's memory.'

  The Mistress of the Empire embraced the magician with a familiarity she would never have dared before. 'Visit the Imperial Court often, Fumita. Your granddaughter must grow with the joy of knowing her grandfather.'

  As if uncomfortable with the rush of feelings, for the gift of a family restored, Fumita bowed brusquely. A heartbeat later, he vanished in a breath of air, leaving Mara and Hokanu alone to share a last moment of each other's private company.

  The fountains sang, and the flowers released their perfume on the deepening evening air. The page who arrived was an intrusion, as he made his bow and announced, 'My Lady, the Light of Heaven requests the presence of his father, and the Mistress of the Empire, for his council.'

  'Politics,' Mara said with a sigh. 'Is it the dance or ourselves that are the masters?'

  'It is the dance that masters us, of course,' Hokanu smiled. 'Else I should never be leaving you, Lady.' Then he turned, and presented his arm to his former wife. With a dignity born of profound courage and unshakable inner peace, he escorted her toward the imperial suite, and her new role as Regent and Mistress of the Empire.

  Epilogue

  Reunion

  The herald struck the gong.

  Lady Mara, Mistress of the Empire, resettled her weight on the gilt-edged cushion that failed to soften the unyielding marble of her official seat on the imperial dais. Hers might be less brilliant a throne than Justin's gold-overlaid one, but it was no less uncomfortable. In two years of presiding over Justin's public duties, she had never grown used to it.

  Mara's thoughts drifted. Gaining in his experience on the golden throne, Justin was more and more capable of managing the decisions presented on the Day of Appeals. He had his m
other's talent for seeing the pattern in complex issues, and his father's ability to cut to the heart of the matter. Most of the time Mara served at his side more in the role of adviser than Regent; sometimes she sat lost in memories as she endured the lengthy hours of state councils, trusting Justin to let her know when her attention was needed.

  Sundown was near, she saw by the slant of the light through the dome in the grand hall of audience. The Day of Appeals was at last drawing to a close. The last few of the Emperor's petitioners approached the rail on the floor below. Mara resisted the urge to rub tired eyes as Justin, ninety-two times Emperor, called out the traditional words that acknowledged his approaching subject's right to be heard.

  'Lord Hokanu of the Shinzawai, know that you have the ear of the gods through our ear.' Justin's voice was breaking to the baritone that would be his in manhood, but joy at the arrival of his foster father caused him to forget to blush at the roughness that had invaded his speech. 'Heaven smiles down upon the felicity of your visit, and we bid you glad welcome.'

  Mara started sharply from reverie. Hokanu was here! Her heart leaped as she looked down to see how he fared. Months had passed since their paths had last crossed at a state function. The Shinzawai Lord had left the court, she recalled, to attend upon his lady wife, who had been pregnant with his heir.

  Heirs, Mara was forced to correct herself, as the imperial herald called out two names, and she reviewed the pair of bundles borne in the arms of their father. A nurse and two servants hovered nearby, and another, a slight, pretty girl whose eyes were downcast and shy before the presence of her Emperor.

  Justin was grinning; another trait he had inherited from his outworld father was spurning the Tsurani bent for stiff-faced protocol. These days some of the younger nobles were imitating him, affecting his animated expressions and frank speech, as unmarried women might follow popular fashion, much to the discomfort of the older Ruling Lords. He gave his stately mother a mischieviously unroyal poke in the ribs. 'Mother, you must have words for this occasion.'