Mara closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of flowers. So fast; events were moving all too swiftly. For the sake of her house, she must act, but how? All the known laws had been broken. 'Who will rule?'
'The Emperor.' All eyes turned to Kevin.
Mara sighed in a burst of impatience. 'You do not understand. The Emperor rules as a spiritual leader. While the daily business of the Tsuranuanni is conducted by the imperial staff, the High Council governs the nation. All policy begins there, with the Warlord foremost among the great Lords of the land.'
Kevin hiked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the palace. 'I seem to remember someone saying the Light of Heaven never went out in public, either, but there he was, big as life, sitting at the games. This Emperor has already changed the way of his fathers, as I see things. Ichindar may be more intent on governing than you think.'
Arakasi stroked his chin, if not he, then the Great Ones could be at play here. There were an inordinate number of them present the other day.'
'Everyone has guesses,' Mara interjected. 'What we need are facts. Who survived the debacle at the games, and were there any suspicious accidents in the aftermath?'
'Far more injuries than fatalities,' Arakasi said, ‘I will write you a list before I leave. If a momentous precedent is being set at the palace, there are agents I can approach with questions. For now I advise caution, despite the Emperor's peace. Many streets are still blocked with debris. The priests of the Twenty Orders have opened their temples to house the homeless, but with trade disrupted at the docks, food is scarce. There are hungry, desperate people at large who are every bit as dangerous as assassins. Repair work began at the waterfront this morning, but until the markets reopen, the streets will be perilous to walk.'
Mara made a rueful gesture at the wrappings on her feet. 'I shouldn't be going out until my litter is replaced, in any event.'
Arakasi rose, stretched, and flexed his hands until his knuckles cracked. Mara regarded him narrowly. The cut on his cheek was healing, but the surrounding flesh looked more drawn than she recalled. 'How long has it been since you slept?'
'I haven't,' said the Spy Master. 'There has been too much to do.' With the faintest distaste, he picked up the discarded farm smock. 'With your leave, my Lady, I will borrow back that handcart and seek your guards and hadonra. The markets may be closed, but I do have ideas where Jican might buy vegetables.' His head vanished briefly behind crumpled, filthy cloth as he tugged the garment over his house robe. Tousled, squint-eyed, and looking every inch the weathered field hand when he emerged, he added, 'The price will be very dear.'
'Then Jican will owe you no favours. Go carefully,' Mara bade him.
Arakasi bowed and stepped under the arch that led into the house, where he instantly became all but invisible; his voice issued softly out of the shadow. 'You'll be staying?' Then, after barely a pause, 'I thought so.'
And suddenly he was gone.
Kevin regarded his Lady in the greenish light falling through the trees. 'You won't be persuaded to go home to Ayaki?' He asked also for himself, at the back of his mind a need to speak to Patrick, and share with his countryman the news that weighed on his heart since the games: Borric and Brucal routed, and the Kingdom open to invasion.
For an instant Mara looked anguished. 'I cannot go home. Not with this much change under way. I must be close to the seat of power, no matter in whose charge things fall. I will not have House Acoma crushed as a consequence of other men's decisions. If we are in peril, I will cherish my son beyond the last breath in my body, but I will act.'
Her hands rested tense on the stonework. Gently Kevin captured them in his own warm palms. 'You are frightened,' he observed.
She nodded, which for her was a momentous admission. 'Because I can act against a plot by the Minwanabi or any other enemy Lord. But there are two forces in the Empire I must bow before without question, and one or both are at play here.'
Kevin needed no prompt to guess she referred to the Emperor and the Magicians. As her gaze darkened and turned inward, the Midkemian knew she worried also for her son.
* * *
Three more days passed, filled with the sounds of marching soldiers in the streets, and the grind of carts bearing away wreckage, rubble, and bodies. Mara waited, and took reports from Arakasi, delivered in strange forms and at odd hours of the night. Kevin laconically remarked that the Spy Master had a knack for spoiling their lovemaking, but the truth was that boredom left the couple more time for indulgence. His prediction that the Emperor would undertake the rule of the Empire proved partially correct, but more than one game within politics was under way, and Arakasi diverted all his resources into uncovering whose hand pulled the strings.
As time passed, and the council members scrambled to assemble a profile of the emerging power structure, it became plain that Ichindar's intervention was not a whim. He had planned carefully and kept men ready to step in and conduct the business usually left to the factors and agents of the Council Lords. The puzzle became clearer as Arakasi began to unwind which factions provided Ichindar with support. Members of the Blue Wheel Party, nearly all of them absentees from the chaos at the Imperial Games, were at the heart of the plot. Even the old Imperial Party families, who could claim ties of blood, were outsiders in this new order.
Since the declaration of imperial peace, the city began recovery from its wounds. Repairs of the destruction wreaked by the barbarian magician began with the laborious clearing of broken stones and timbers. For days a spire of smoke rose over the vicinity of the arena as the dead were brought there and burned. Stories of Imperial Whites hanging looters or black marketeers who were hoarding put an end to both practices. Moorings were set in the river, and small craft used to ferry goods ashore while new docks were built on old pilings; the shops began slowly to restock. Servants with shoulder yokes and handcarts picked their way around fallen stones to do business.
Ten days after the disaster at the games, Mara received reports from Sulan-Qu. There had been a small influx of refugees there, and some fighting over salvage on the riverbanks, but Acoma interests had not suffered. Nacoya reported that, except for Ayaki's tantrums, all was quiet at the Acoma estate. The worst the First Adviser had contended with was Keyoke, who had to be dissuaded from sending half the standing garrison to Kentosani to extricate his mistress. They had learned she was safe, Nacoya wrote, through Arakasi's agents. Mara set down the inscribed parchment. Tears blurred her eyes as she thought upon the devotion of those who loved her. She missed her son unbearably, and vowed to spend more time with him at the earliest opportunity.
Fast footsteps sounded in the hallway. Mara heard her guards snap to attention, and then Arakasi appeared, looking hollow-eyed and grim. In a total breach of protocol, he burst into her private quarters and threw himself face down on the carpet in absolute obeisance.
'Mistress, I beg forgiveness for my rush.'
Caught in a moment of weakness, Mara dabbed at her eyes. She knew she ought to feel frightened, but events were changing so quickly, she felt as if they were happening to somebody else.
'Be seated,' Mara said. 'What is the news?'
Arakasi rose, and his eyes roved the chamber, seeking. 'Where is Kevin? He should hear this, as you will certainly want his opinion.'
Mara flicked her hand, and her runner departed for the kitchen, where the Midkemian had gone for hot chocha. Already returning up the stairs, the barbarian slave entered almost immediately. 'What's the excitement?' he asked as he set down a tray laden with a pot and assorted cups. 'A bit of spiced chocha hardly seems cause for getting nearly knocked flat by your runner.'
Kevin's back was turned to Mara as he bent to pour the first cup, and he had not noticed Arakasi, who habitually sought the least conspicuous corner.
'First, the barbarians —' the Spy Master began.
Startled into rattling the china, Kevin spun. 'You!' He covered his overreaction with a sour smile. 'What about the barba
rians?'
Arakasi cleared his throat. 'The outworlders have launched a completely unexpected and massive counter-offensive. Our armies on Midkemia have been overwhelmed and routed back to the valley where we control the rift! We have just suffered the worst defeat of the war!'
Tactful for once, Kevin reined back a laugh of joy. But he could not resist a smug look at Arakasi as he handed his Lady her spiced chocha.
'What else?' Mara-asked, sure there must be more because of her Spy Master's precipitous entrance.
'Second,' Arakasi ticked off, 'the Emperor has agreed to meet with the barbarian King to discuss peace!'
Mara dropped her cup. 'What?' Her exclamation cut across the smash of china, and steaming chocha splashed in a flood across the floor.
Kevin stood rooted. Mara ignored the drenched tiles, and the fine spray of stains that spread slowly through the hem of her robe. 'Peace?'
Arakasi continued, speaking quickly. 'My agent in the palace sent word this morning. Before the Warlord's last major offensive, two agents of the Blue Wheel Party slipped through the rift with the outbound troops. They were Kasumi of the Shinzawai and a barbarian slave, and they left the encampment and carried words of peace to the barbarian King.'
'That's why your Shinzawai friend wasn't at the games,' Kevin said. 'He didn't know if he was going to be a hero or an outlaw.'
Mara pulled wet cloth from her knees, but called no maids to assist. 'Kasumi. That's Hokanu's brother.' Her eyes narrowed. 'But the Blue Wheel Party would never do something this bold without —'
'Without the Emperor's approval,' Arakasi interjected. 'That's the gist. Ichindar had to be willing to discuss peace prior to dispatching any envoy.'
Mara turned pale as she considered. 'So this is why the Light of Heaven was prepared to step in and rule.' Slowly she added to Kevin, 'Your appraisal of our Emperor may be more accurate than we gave you credit for, my love. Ichindar meddled in the Great Game, and none knew.' She shook her head in disbelief. 'This goes counter to all tradition.'
Kevin pulled a napkin from the tray and knelt to dam the flow of chocha. 'You're one to talk. I seem to recall you've bent one or two traditions to the point of twisting them beyond recognition.'
Mara protested. 'But the Emperor . . .' Her awe made it clear she considered the Light of Heaven to be just short of a god.
'He's a man,' said Kevin, the hand with the dripping rag rested on his bent knee. 'And he's young. Young men often do unexpected and radical things. But this one's lived a pampered life, for all his boldness. He's surely naive if he thinks he can skip in and order your power-hungry Tsurani Lords to pack up and go home and grow radishes.'
Arakasi said, 'Mistress, whatever "radishes" may be, I fear Kevin is right.'
'There's another hand in this,' Mara insisted, unsatisfied. She glared at her sodden overrobe, then threw it impatiently off. Fine cloth finished where Kevin's ministrations had left off, but if a few silk cushions had been saved, Mara never noticed. 'Had the magician Milamber not caused Almecho's disgrace, how would things have proceeded?'
If the question was rhetorical, the progression was not hard to trace. Even Kevin could follow that the Blue Wheel Party would have once more reversed policy and withdrawn from the Alliance for War. This would have left Almecho with only Minwanabi as a major supporter. With the Acoma and the Xacatecas busy worrying the Minwanabi flank, Desio could not afford to increase support. Almecho and his party would have been deadlocked, after thirteen years of near-absolute rule.
Kevin wrung his rag savagely over the chocha tray and voiced the only viable conclusion. 'So your Emperor would have barged into the High Council to announce a peace proposal, and your Warlord would have lacked enough support to confront him. Very neatly done.' Kevin finished with a whistle of admiration. 'Your Ichindar is a very smart boy.'
Arakasi appeared inwardly calculating. 'Even had things gone as Kevin surmises, I don't think our Emperor would have risked an open confrontation with the Warlord. Not unless he had some special avenue of appeal.'
Kevin's eyes widened. 'The magicians!'
Mara nodded. 'Almecho has his "pets", so Ichindar would need allies to counter them.' To Arakasi she said, 'Go and speak with your agents. Discover, if you can, who among the Great Ones is a likely candidate to have been involved in this game. See if one has a special relationship to any within the Blue Wheel, especially the Shinzawai. They seem to be at the heart of things.'
As her Spy Master bowed and departed, Mara's gaze sharpened as if she viewed some private vista from a place of dizzying height. 'Great changes are coming. I feel this like the breeze that brings the butana,' she said in reference to the bitter, dry wind that in the old stories raised the spirits of demons and set them free to roam the land. Then, as if thoughts of mythological evils and present-day strife gave her shivers, she ruefully acknowledged her clumsiness. 'But one can hardly seize the initiative while swimming in puddles of chocha.'
'That depends on what sort of initiative,' Kevin countered, and he rescued her from the disaster by sweeping her into his arms.
* * *
The upheaval precipitated by Milamber brought in a few small concessions. As trade resumed, and shortfalls opened opportunities, Mara received word from Lord Keda that her terms for the warehouse space had been accepted. The destruction along the dock front in Kentosani had made her offer the only option, and a premium would reward the first grain shipments to reach the market on the flood. Lord Andero conceded her the Keda vote with a minimum of sureties; with no High Council called to session, such a promise held questionable value.
Yet Mara dispatched a messenger with word of her acceptance anyway. Any promise was worth more than no promise at all, and from the information brought by her Spy Master, the ruling Lords who were not busy exploiting trade advantages were displeased with the Emperor's machinations. Peace, they said, was a coward's act, and the gods did not favour weak nations.
The news came thick and heavy after that; Mara spent yet another morning in conference with Arakasi, while Kevin dozed in the shade of a tree in the courtyard. He did not hear until later, when official word came, that the Light of Heaven had departed for the City of the Plains, his intent to cross the rift to Midkemia and negotiate for peace with Lyam, King of the Isles.
Kevin shot bolt upright at the mention of the Midkemian name. 'Lyam!'
'King Lyam,' Mara repeated. She tapped the parchment delivered to her town house by imperial messenger. 'So it is written here, by the Emperor's own scribe.'
'But Lyam is Lord Borric's son,' Kevin remembered, a dazed look on his face. 'If he's King, that can only mean King Rodric, Prince Erland of Krondor, and Borric himself are all dead.'
'What do you know of King Lyam?' Mara asked, choosing a seat by his side.
'I don't know him well,' Kevin admitted. 'We played together as children one time. I just remember him as a big blond boy who laughed a lot. I met Lord Borric once at a commanders' meeting.' He fell silent, wrapped in thoughts of his own land, until curiosity caused him to ask to read the parchment. The Emperor of Tsuranuanni did not believe in travelling without half the nobles in his Empire, it appeared. Kevin's mouth quirked wryly. By imperial command, the Light of Heaven's honour guard consisted of the Warchiefs of the Five Great Clans and the eldest sons of half the other Lords in Tsuranuanni.
'Hostages,' the Midkemian said outright. 'The Lords will hardly defy edict and make bloody trouble with their heirs in the Emperor's field army.'
The arena of politics suddenly paled. Kevin shut his eyes and tried to imagine the brown-haired youth in gilt armour seated across a table with Borric's son Lyam, who was also young . . . and it came home to Kevin, like a slam to the heart, that time had passed. The war had gone on, and people had died in his absence. He did not even know if his father and elder brothers were alive. The thought stung, that for years he had forgotten to care. Seated in a beautiful courtyard, surrounded by alien flowers and a woman from a culture that often seemed inc
omprehensibly cruel, Kevin, third son of the Baron of Zun, took a deep breath and tried to take stock of who he was.
'But why should Ichindar go there?' Mara mused, unmindful of his turmoil. 'Such a risk to our Light of Heaven.'
Her thoroughly Tsurani viewpoint sparked shock, and Kevin bridled. 'Do you think our King would come here? After your warriors have been ravaging his lands for nine years? "Forget we've burned your villages, Your Majesty. Just step through this gate into our world!" Not bloody likely. Remember, this King has been a field commander with his father's army almost since the start. He knows whom he faces. Trust will be a very thin commodity in the Kingdom of the Isles until your people prove otherwise.'
Mara conceded that Kevin was right on all points. 'I would guess from your perspective we would be worthy of distrust.'
Her equanimity struck a nerve, mostly because he expected a fight. Kevin laughed, a cold and bitter sound. 'I love you as the breath of my life, Mara of the Acoma, but there is just one of me. Thousands of my countrymen know the Tsurani only upon the battlefield. What they see are men who have invaded their homeland for bloody conquest. There will be no easy peace in all this.'
Framed by an arching trellis of akasi vines, Mara frowned. 'Do you infer that Ichindar will be asked to surrender the lands the Warlord has gained?'
Kevin laughed again. 'You Tsurani. You believe that everyone thinks as you do. Of course the King will demand that you depart. You're invaders. You're alien. You don't belong on the Midkemian side of the rift.' Caught by an upwelling tide of irony, Kevin looked into Mara's face. She looked worried, even hurt, but uppermost was her concern for him. That wrenched. She did not share his concept of cruelty, could never grasp what it cost him to beg for the concessions that had given Patrick and his fellow slaves the most basic sustenance. Torn by his improbable love and his inborn sense of justice, Kevin rose precipitately and left.
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