Mara hurried purposefully forward, but a screech of infant laughter melted her annoyance. Ayaki has awakened from his midday nap. Indulgently smiling, Mara changed course for the nursery. Intrigue and the great Game of the Council could wait until after she had visited her son.
* * *
When next he arrived to court Mara, Bruli of the Kehotara was accompanied by a dozen dancers, all expert in their art, who spun and jumped with astonishing athletic grace as a full score of musicians played. The litter that followed this procession was yet another new one, bedecked with metal and fringed with beaded gems. Mara squinted against the dazzle of reflected sunlight and judged her suitor's style was approaching the pomp favoured by the Lord of the Anasati.
She whispered to Nacoya, 'Why does each entrance become more of a circus?'
The old woman rubbed her hands together. 'I've told your young suitor that you appreciate a man who can proudly display his wealth to the world, though I wasn't quite that obvious.'
Mara returned a sceptical glance. 'How did you know he would listen?'
Nacoya waved airily at the young man who leaned hopefully out of his litter, that he might catch a glimpse of the Lady he came to court. 'Daughter, have you not learned, even now? Love can make fools of even the best men.'
Mara nodded, at last understanding why her former nurse had insisted she play the wanton. Bruli could never have been coerced into spending such a fortune simply to carry out his father's wishes. That morning Arakasi had received a report that the boy had come near to bankrupting the already shaky financial standing of the Kehotara. His father, Mekasi, would fare awkwardly if he had to appeal to Jingu's good graces to save his honour.
'To get between your legs, that boy would spend his father centiless.' With a shake of her head Nacoya said, 'He is to be pitied, a little. Serving up Misa in your stead has done what you wished: only heightened his appetite for you. The fool has fallen passionately in love.'
The First Adviser's comment was nearly lost in a fanfare of horns. Vielle players ripped into a finale of arpeggios as Bruli's party mounted the steps to the estate house and entered the garden. The dancers simultaneously twirled, dropping in a semicircle of bows before Mara as Bruli made his appearance. Now his black hair was crimped into ringlets, and his arms bore heavy bracelets of chased enamel work. As he came over to Mara, his strut faltered. Instead of the skimpy robe he had come to expect, she was wearing a formal white robe, with long sleeves and a hemline well below her knees.
Though he sensed some difficulty, he managed his bow with grace. 'My Lady?' he said as he waved his retinue aside.
Mara motioned for her servants to stand apart. Frowning a little, as if she struggled with disappointment too great to hide, she said, 'Bruli, I have come to understand something.' She lowered her eyes. 'I have been alone . . . and you are a very handsome man. I . . . I have acted poorly.' She finished the rest in a rush. 'I have let desire rule my judgement, and now I discover that you think me another silly woman to add to your list of conquests.'
'But no!' interrupted Bruli, instantly concerned. 'I think you a paragon among women, Mara.' His voice softened almost to reverence. 'More than that, I love you, Mara. I would never consider conquest concerning a woman I wish to wed.'
His sincerity swayed Mara for only a second. Despite his beauty, Bruli was but another vain young warrior, with little gift for thought or wisdom.
Mara stepped back as he reached for her. 'I wish to believe you, Bruli, but your own actions deny your pretty words. Just two nights ago you found my maid an easy substitute for . . .' How easily the lie came, she thought. 'I was ready to give myself to you, sweet Bruli. But I find you are simply another adventurer of the heart, and I a poor, plain widow.'
Bruli dropped immediately to one knee, a servant's gesture, and shocking for its sincerity. He began earnestly to profess his love, but Mara turned sharply away. 'I cannot hear this. It breaks my heart.' Feigning injury too great to support, she fled the garden.
As the tap of her sandals faded into the house, Bruli slowly rose from his knees. Finding Nacoya by his elbow, he gestured in embarrassed confusion. 'Ancient mother, if she will not listen to me, how may I prove my love?'
Nacoya clucked understandingly and patted the young man's arm, steering him deftly through musicians and dancers to his dazzlingly appointed litter. 'Girls have little strength, Bruli. You must be gentle and patient. I think some small gift or another, sent with a letter, or, better, a poem, might sway her heart. Perhaps one a day until she calls you back.' Touching the fringes with admiring hands, Nacoya said, 'You had her won, you know. Had you shown restraint enough to leave that maid alone, she surely would have become your wife.'
Frustration became too much for Bruli. 'But I thought she wished me to take the girl!' His rings rattled as he folded his arms in pique. 'The maid was certainly bold enough in the tub and . . . it is not the first time I have been given a servant for sport by my host.'
Nacoya played the role of grandmother to the limit of her ability. 'Ah, you poor boy. You know so little about the heart of a female. I wager no woman you paid court to ever sent her maids to warm your bed.' She wagged her finger under his nose. 'It was another man who did so, eh?'
Bruli stared at the fine gravel of the path, forced to admit she was correct. Nacoya nodded briskly. 'See, it was, in a manner of speaking, a test.' As his eyes began to narrow, she said, 'Not by design, I assure you; simply put, had you dressed and left at once, my mistress would have been yours for the asking. Now . . .'
Bruli flung back crimped locks and groaned. 'What am I to do?'
'As I said, gifts.' Nacoya's tone turned chiding. 'And I think you should prove your passion may be answered only by true love. Send away those girls you keep at your hostelry in the city.'
Bruli stiffened in immediate suspicion. 'You have spies! How else could you know I have two women of the Reed Life at my quarters in the city?'
Though Arakasi's operatives had indeed proved that fact, Nacoya only nodded in ancient wisdom. 'See, I guessed right! And if an old, simple woman such as myself can guess, then so must my Lady.' Short and wizened beside the proud warrior, she ushered him to the dooryard where his litter waited. 'You must go, young master Bruli. If your heart is to win its reward, you must not be seen talking overlong with me! My Lady might suspect me of advising you, and that would never please her. Go quickly, and be unstinting in the proof of your devotion.'
The son of Mekasi reluctantly settled onto his cushions. His slaves shouldered the poles of his gaudy litter, and like clockwork toys, the musicians began to play the appointed recessional. Dancers whirled in joyful gyrations, until a carping shout from their master ended their display. The vielles scraped and fell silent, and a last, tardy horn player set the needra bulls bellowing in the pastures. How fitting that his send-off came from the beasts, Nacoya thought as, in a sombre band, his cortege departed for Sulan-Qu. The hot sun of midday wilted the flower garlands on the heads of the dancers and slaves, and almost the Acoma First Adviser felt sorry for the young man. Almost.
* * *
The gifts began to arrive the next day. A rare bird that sang a haunting song came first, with a note in fairly bad poetry. Nacoya read it after Mara had laid it aside, and commented, 'The calligraphy is well practised. He must have spent a few dimis hiring a poet to write this.'
'Then he wasted his wealth. It's awful.' Mara waved for a servant to clear away the colourful paper wrappings that had covered the bird's cage. The bird itself hopped from perch to reed perch, singing its tiny heart out.
Just then Arakasi bowed at the entrance of the study.
'My Lady, I have discovered the identity of the Kehotara agent.'
As an afterthought, Mara directed the slaves to carry the bird to another chamber. As its warble diminished down the corridor, she said, 'Who?'
Arakasi accepted her invitation to enter. 'One of Bruli's servants hurried to send a message, warning his father of his excesses, I th
ink. But the odd thing is another slave, a porter, also left his master's own house to meet with a vegetable seller. Their discussion did not concern produce, and it seems likely he was a Minwanabi agent.'
Mara twined a bit of ribbon between her fingers. 'Has anything been done?'
Arakasi understood her perfectly. 'The first man had an unfortunate accident. His message fell into the hands of another vegetable seller who, it so chances, hates Jingu.' The Spy Master withdrew a document from his robe, which he gravely offered to Mara.
'You still smell like seshi tubers,' the Lady of the Acoma accused gently, then went on to read the note. 'Yes, this proves your suppositions. It also suggests that Bruli had no idea he had a second agent in his party.'
Arakasi frowned, as he always did when he read things upside down. 'If that figure is accurate, Bruli is close to placing his father in financial peril.' The Spy Master paused to stroke his chin. 'With Jican's guidance, I convinced many of the craftsmen and merchants to delay their bills until we wish them sent. Here the Acoma benefit from your practice of prompt payment.'
Mara nodded in acknowledgement. 'How much grace does that leave the Kehotara?'
'Little. How long could any merchant afford to finance Bruli's courtship? Soon they will send to the Lord of the Kehotara's hadonra for payment. I would love to be an insect upon the wall watching when he receives that packet of bills.'
Mara regarded her Spy Master keenly. 'You have more to say.'
Arakasi raised his brows in surprise. 'You have come to know me very well.' But his tone implied a question.
Silently Mara pointed to the foot he tapped gently on the carpet. 'When you're finished, you always stop.'
The Spy Master came close to a grin. 'Sorceress,' he said admiringly; then his voice sobered. 'The Blue Wheel Party has just ordered all their Force Commanders back from Midkemia, as we had suspected they might.'
Mara's eyes narrowed. 'Then we have little time left to deal with this vain and foolish boy. Within a few days his father will send for him, even if he hasn't discovered the perilous state of his finances.' She tapped absently with the scroll while she considered her next move. 'Arakasi, watch for any attempts to send a messenger to Bruli before Nacoya convinces him to make me a gift of that litter. And, old mother, the moment he does, call him to visit.' Mara's gaze lingered long upon her two advisers. 'And hope we can deal with him before his father orders him to kill me.'
* * *
Bruli sent a new gift each of the next four days. The servants piled them in one corner of Mara's study, until Nacoya commented sourly that the room resembled a market stall. The accumulation was impressive - costly robes of the finest silk; exotic wines and fruits, imported to the central Empire at great cost; gems and even metal jewellery. At the last, on the fifth day following the afternoon she had sent the young man away, the fabulous litter had arrived. Then Mara ordered Arakasi to send Bruli the second message, one intercepted scarcely the day before. The Lord of the Kehotara had at last received word of his son's excesses and sternly ordered the boy home at once. In his instructions the angry old patriarch had detailed exactly what he thought of his son's irresponsible behaviour.
Mara would have been amused, if not for Arakasi's agitation over how word of the incident had got through to the Kehotara lord without his agent's knowledge. The Spy Master had touchy pride, and he regarded any failure, however slight, as a personal betrayal of his duty. Also, his discovery of the Minwanabi agent in Bruli's train had him concerned. If two agents, why not three?
But events progressed too swiftly to investigate the matter. Bruli of the Kehotara returned to the Acoma estate house, and Mara again attired herself in lounging robes and makeup to further confuse her importunate suitor as he bowed and entered her presence. The musicians were conspicuously absent, as were the fine clothes, the jewellery, and the crimped hair. Red-faced and ill at ease, the young man rushed through the formalities of greeting. With no apology for his rudeness, Bruli blurted, 'Lady Mara, I thank the gods you granted me an audience.'
Mara forestalled him, seemingly unaware that his ardour was no longer entirely motivated by passion. 'I think I may have misjudged you, dear one.' She stared shyly at the floor. 'Perhaps you were sincere . . .' Then, glowing with appeal, she added, 'If you would stay to supper we might speak again.'
Bruli responded wth an expression of transparent relief. A difficult conversation lay ahead of him, and the affair would be easier if Mara's sympathies were restored to him. Also, if he could come away with a promise of engagement, his father's rage would be less. The Acoma wealth was well established, and a few debts surely could be paid off with a minimum of fuss. Confident all would end well, Bruli waited while Mara instructed Jican to assign quarters for Bruli's retinue. When the son of the Lord of the Kehotara had been led away, Mara returned to her study, where Arakasi waited, once more in the guise of a vegetable seller.
When she was certain of privacy, Mara said, 'When were you planning to leave?'
Arakasi halted his pacing, a shadow against shadow in the corner made dim by the piles of Bruli's gifts. The songbird sang incongruously pretty notes through his words. 'Tonight, mistress.'
Mara threw a cloth over the cage, reducing the melody to a series of sleepy chirps. 'Can you wait another day or two?'
He shook his head. 'No longer than first light tomorrow. If I do not appear at a certain inn in Sulan-Qu by noon, and several other places over the next week, my replacement will become active. It would prove awkward if you ended up with two Spy Masters.' He smiled. 'And I would lose the services of a man very difficult to replace. If the matter is that vital, I can find other tasks for him and remain.'
Mara sighed. 'No. We should see an end to this nonsense with the Kehotara boy by then. I want you to identify the Minwanabi agent in his retinue to Keyoke. And tell him I will sleep in Nacoya's quarters tonight.' The songbird stopped its peeping as she finished. 'What would you think if I have Pape and Lujan keep watch in my quarters tonight?'
Arakasi paused. 'You think young Bruli plans to pay a late visit to your bed?'
'More likely an assassin from his retinue might try.' Mara shrugged. 'I have Bruli where I want him, but a little more discomfort on his part would serve us well. If someone roams the corridors tonight, I think we shall make it easy for him to reach my quarters.'
'As always, you amaze me, mistress.' Arakasi bowed with irony and admiration. 'I will see your instructions reach Keyoke.'
In one smooth movement the Spy Master melted into the shadows. His departure made no sound; he passed from the corridor unseen even by the maid who came to tell Mara that her robes and her bath awaited, should she care to refresh herself before dinner. But one more item remained. Mara sent her runner for Nacoya and informed the old woman that Bruli should now receive his father's overdue messages. In the gathering gloom of twilight she added, 'Be sure to tell him they have just arrived.'
An evil gleam lit Nacoya's eyes. 'May I carry them myself, mistress? I want to see his face when he reads them.'
Mara laughed. 'You old terror! Give him the messages, with all my blessing. And don't lie too extravagantly. The letters were delayed from town, which is more or less the truth.' She paused, hiding a moment of fear behind humour. 'Do you think this will spare me his simpering during dinner?'
But Nacoya had already departed on her errand, and the only answer Mara received was a sleepy twitter from the songbird. She shivered, suddenly, needing a hot tub between herself and thoughts of the play she was about to complete against the Lord of the Kehotara.
* * *
The oil lamps burned softly, shedding golden light over the table settings. Carefully prepared dishes steamed around a centrepiece of flowers, and chilled fish glistened against beds of fresh fruit and greenery. Clearly, the Acoma kitchen staff had laboured to prepare a romantic dinner for lovers, yet Bruli sat ill at ease on his cushions.
He pushed the exquisite food here and there on his plate, his thoughts obvi
ously elsewhere. Even the deep neckline of Mara's robe failed to brighten his spirits.
At last, pretending confusion, the Lady of the Acoma laid aside her napkin. 'Why, Bruli, you seem all astir. Is something amiss?'
'My Lady?' The young man looked up, his blue eyes shadowed with distress. 'I hesitate to . . . trouble you with my own difficulties, but. . .' He coloured and looked down in embarrassment. 'Quite frankly, in my passion to win you, I have placed too large a debt upon my house.' A painful pause followed. 'You will doubtless think less of me and I risk losing stature in your eyes, but duty to my father requires that I beg a favour of you.'
Suddenly finding little to relish in Bruli's discomfort, Mara responded more curtly than she intended. 'What favour?' She softened the effect by setting down her fork and trying to seem concerned. 'Of course I will help if I can.'
Bruli sighed, his unhappiness far from alleviated. 'If you could find it within your heart to be so gracious, I need some of those gifts . . . the ones I sent . . . could you possibly return them?' His voice dropped, and he swallowed. 'Not all, but perhaps the more expensive ones.'
Mara's eyes were pools of sympathy as she said, 'I think I might find it in my heart to help a friend, Bruli. But the night is young, and the cooks worked hard to please us. Why don't we forget these bothersome troubles and enjoy our banquet? At the first meal tomorrow we can resolve your difficulties.'
Though he had hoped for another answer, Bruli gathered his tattered pride and weathered the rest of the dinner. His conversation was unenthusiastic, and his humour conspicuously absent, but Mara pretended not to notice. She called in a poet to read while servants brought sweet dishes and brandies; and in the end the drink helped, for the unfortunate son of the Kehotara eventually took his leave for bed. Plainly he left without romantic advances so he could pass the night painlessly in sleep.
Empire - 01 - Daughter Of The Empire Page 38