Bruli's forehead knitted in thought. To be a warrior was the highest goal of any Tsurani male, but women had all sorts of odd notions. His blue eyes came alight. "Thank you, ancient mother. Your advice is sound.' He sighed in self-reproach and accepted the wine Nacoya offered. 'Had I wits, I would have anticipated this. Of course, it is now obvious. I shall return tomorrow and Mara shall see how gentle I can be, a man of refinements and grace, with no need of armour and arms to proclaim my manhood. Thank you.'
Nacoya patted Bruli's sleeve, her brow disingenuously furrowed. 'And music, I think. My lady would be impressed with any man who showed interest in the fine arts.' Bruli nodded and handed his empty glass to a servant. 'My thanks, old mother. Now, you will understand if I do not tarry. If I am to have new robes from the tailors, I must depart for Sulan-Qu on the hour.'
'You are a diligent suitor, worthy of the Lady's attention.' Nacoya clapped for servants to summon Bruli's litter and his guardsmen. There followed a comical bustle as Bruli rearranged his honour guard by height, that the picture they made while marching should seem bold and harmonious to the eye. When he had departed from the estates, for the first time in memory Nacoya couldn't contain herself. She crossed the hall to the door to Mara's quarters, doubled over. Then her laughter could no longer be stifled. Clapping a withered hand to her mouth in helpless desperation, she hurried to meet her mistress. Who but a Ruling Lady would have seized upon Bruli's vanity and worked that weakness into a plan? The Lords Jingu of the Minwanabi and Mekasi of the Kehotara would learn that matters of honour were not always settled with weapons.
Still chuckling, Nacoya entered Mara's quarters, where Jican and Arakasi were already meeting with the Lady of the Acoma. Mara looked up from a scroll and noticed the hand still pressed tightly over her First Adviser's mouth. 'You seem amused.'
Nacoya sat, slowly, her disarranged hairpins sliding further to one side. 'If a foe can be bested without bloodshed, what harm if a little entertainment can be derived from the act?'
Mara's interest sharpened. 'Then our plan is working, mother of my heart?'
Nacoya returned a spirited nod. 'I think I can keep Bruli busy for a week or so and spare you the need to insult the Kehotara. The idea we discussed looks promising.'
Mara nodded her approval, resuming her interrupted conversation with Jican. 'Did you say that Hokanu of the Shinzawai requests permission to call upon the Acoma?'
The hadonra consulted the parchment in his hand, which was of quality penmanship but not an ornamented petition for marriage. 'The Lord of the Shinzawai sends word that his son will be passing through on his way from their town home in Jamar to the main estates in the north. He begs leave to have Hokanu call upon you.'
Mara remembered Hokanu from the wedding, a striking, darkly handsome man about her own age. She did not need Nacoya's prompting to remind her that he had been one of the choices for her consort before she had selected Buntokapi.
Aware of Arakasi's intent expression, Mara asked the Spy Master's opinion.
'Hokanu's interest might be a wise thing to foster. The Shinzawai are among the oldest and most influential families in the High Council; the grandfather was Clan Kanazawai Warchief until he retired, then Kamatsu was. Two Warchiefs in succession from the same family shows rare deftness in clan politics. And they are not vicious players of the Game of the Council, but have gained position through skill and intelligence, with no blood feuds under way, and no debts. And they are the only major family beside the Xacatecas not in alliance with the Warlord, the Minwanabi, or the Anasati. But they are enmeshed in some plot of the Blue Wheel Party.'
So Arakasi, too, thought an alliance through marriage would benefit the Acoma. But Mara's interest was political only. 'What plot?'
'I don't know,' Arakasi gestured in frustration. 'My agents are not well placed for getting inside information on the Blue Wheel. I deduce a move is afoot to blunt the influence of the Warlord, since Blue Wheel sentiment within the council holds that Almecho commands too much power. Still, since Almecho's invasion of the barbarian world, that movement has all but ceased to exist. Even the Shinzawai provide support. Kamatsu's oldest son, Kasumi, is a Force Leader of the Kanazawai forces upon Midkemia' - the Spy Master frowned as he pronounced the foreign names - 'facing the armies of Crydee in the westernmost province of what the barbarians call the Kingdom of the Isles.'
Mara was always astonished at the amount of information Arakasi could remember, even down to seemingly trivial details. He never made notes or kept lists; other than coded messages disguised as normal business documents, he never permitted his agents to write their reports. And his intuitive guesses were uncanny.
'Do you think the Blue Wheel Party had changed alliance?' she asked.
'No.' Arakasi seemed certain. 'The world of Midkemia holds too many riches for one man's gain, and Kamatsu is too crafty a player of the game. I expect the Blue Wheel will withdraw support from the Alliance for War at a critical moment, leaving the Warlord dangerously overextended. If so, the aftermath should prove interesting.'
Mara reconsidered the note from the Lord of the Shinzawai in the light of this information and reluctantly decided to decline. Her plans for Bruli and the snarled state of Acoma financial affairs would prevent her from honouring Hokanu with the hospitality he deserved. Later, perhaps, she would send him an invitation to make up for the regret she must send now. 'Jican, instruct the scribes to answer with a polite letter informing the younger son of the Lord of the Shinzawai that we will be unable to offer our hospitality at this time . . . My Lord's death has left much confusion in the affairs of the estate, and for this we must humbly beg understanding. I will sign the parchment personally, for Hokanu is one I earnestly wish not to offend.'
Jican made a note on his tally slate. Then his brow furrowed with more than usual resignation. 'There is the matter of the late Lord Bunto's gambling debts, Lady.'
Tired of sitting, Mara rose and wandered over to the screen that opened onto the garden. Staring at the flowers, she said, 'How much did he lose?'
The hadonra answered without hesitation, as if the numbers had haunted his sleep for some nights. 'Seven thousand centuries of metal, twenty-seven dimis, and sixty-five cintis . . . and four tenths.'
Mara turned to face him. 'Can we pay it?'
'Certainly, though it will limit capital flow for a season, until the next crop is sold off.' As if the matter pained him, Jican added, 'We shall have to deal in some credits.'
But the cho-ja craftsmen were starting to produce marketable jade; the time of debt would be short. Mara said, 'Pay them now.'
Jican made another note. "Then there is the matter of the debt of the Lord of the Tuscalora.'
'What debt?' The Tuscalora lands bordered the Acoma holdings to the south, and to Mara's knowledge there had been no ties of business with the Ruling Lord for several generations.
Jican sighed. 'Your husband was a poor gambler, but at wrestling he excelled. He defeated the Tuscalora champion on four occasions, and Lord Jidu lost heavily each time. He wagered thirty centuries on the first bout, and paid in gems. The second bout was for five hundred centuries, and this he noted in the paper contract he since chose not to honour, for the next two bets were wagered double or nothing. His champion was beaten; it was the talk of Sulan-Qu for a week. At present the Lord of the Tuscalora owes the Acoma a total of two thousand centuries.'
'Two thousand! That would ease our finances considerably.'
Jican shrugged. 'If he has assets to pay - I have sent two polite reminders and received no answer at all, probably because the Lord had extended himself on credit until this season's crops are harvested for market.'
'Send a strongly worded demand, over my personal chop.' Mara looked away a moment, thoughtfully, then added, 'Much good will be lost if anyone thinks he may take advantage because a woman is again ruling House Acoma. Let the Lord of the Tuscalora know I require an immediate answer.'
Jican nodded. Mara allowed him to withdraw a
nd, alone, considered the uneasy feeling that had arisen within her over the Tuscalora debt to the House of the Acoma. Her neighbour to the south had been of no consequence, neither ally nor enemy. But his army was large enough to threaten Acoma safety should the matter of debt turn into contention between the two houses. But not to demand her rightful due was to invite gossip about Acoma weakness in every marketplace within the Empire. Mara sighed. The Lord of the Tuscalora was known for his touchy and belligerent temperament. He disliked backing down, which was why Buntokapi had led the man so far into debt to begin with. Mara hoped this one time Jidu of the Tuscalora would prove a reasonable neighbour.
Mara read the parchment, her throat tightening with anger and no small amount of fear. Arakasi, Keyoke, Papewaio, and Nacoya all waited silently as she finished the return message from the Lord of the Tuscalora. She sat silently for a long time, tapping the scroll against her fingers. Finally she said, 'We cannot ignore this. Keyoke, what would my father had done with a message like this?'
The Force Commander said, 'The men would be arming, even now.' He studied Sezu's daughter and added, 'I can march at your word, mistress.'
Mara sighed, taking no pains to hide her distress from these, her four closest advisers. 'I cannot accept this defiance and insult as a declaration of war, Keyoke. For us to engage in conflict with the Tuscalora would mean our destruction.'
Keyoke regarded her levelly. 'We can take his measure.'
Mara's brown eyes were unflinching as she met her Force Commander's stare. 'At what cost? The Tuscalora forces are not so inferior that we can march in and not suffer.' She shook her head. 'Shall we find ourselves where we were after Father and Lano died? This time our enemies will not be so slow to strike.' Her voice became thick with frustration. 'Everything I have built, all that I've endured, would be as nothing.'
Nacoya's old hand cut down in emphasis as she said, 'Then do nothing, Lady. The amount is not so large as to warrant putting yourself and Ayaki at risk. Deal with this insulting little man when you are better able.'
Mara became very still. 'No, I must do something. For us to ignore this Section of our claim would be to announce to every house in the Empire that we are unable to answer insult to our honour.' She dropped the parchment on a side table, as if it were poisonous. 'This must be answered.
'Keyoke, have the entire garrison ready to march at first light. I wish the men marshalled as close to the border of the Tuscalora estates as possible without alerting his sentries.'
Keyoke inclined his head. 'The terrain there is unfavourable for a charge. We would need twenty minutes to reach the estate house should trouble arise.'
Mara stared grimly at the flower bed beyond the screen. 'It shall be as nothing to me if the assault takes five minutes or five hours. By the time you arrive, I would already be dead. No. We must carve our advantage through other things than strength of arms alone.'
There followed a discussion of tactics that extended long past dusk. Servants brought a repast that went largely untouched; even Arakasi's appetite seemed off. And in the end, when Keyoke and Papewaio had exhausted their knowledge of warcraft, Mara suggested another plan, the one that offered a dangerous hope.
Nacoya grew silent and white-faced. Papewaio sat stroking his chin with his thumb, over and over again, while Keyoke simply looked grim. But only Arakasi truly understood Mara's bitterness as she excused her advisers, saying, 'I will travel tomorrow to confront Lord Jidu. And if the gods are ill disposed to the Acoma, then our ruin will not be due to the plottings of the Anasati or the treachery of the Minwanabi, but to an honourless man's seeking to renege on a debt.'
12
Risks
Mara frowned.
She concealed her worry behind a fan of stiffened lace and voiced her desire to halt. Papewaio signalled the one other officer and fifty men in her retinue, and the bearers set her litter down in the dooryard of the Tuscalora estate house.
Mara pulled aside the curtains to gain a better view of her unwilling host. Jidu of the Tuscalora was a fat man, his face and jowls moon-round, and his eyelids long-lashed as a woman's. Both plump wrists were covered with jade bracelets, and the bulging cloth of his robe was sewn with discs of shell. He clinked like a tinker when he moved, and perfumes hung around him in a nearly visible cloud.
From Jican, Mara had learned that Jidu's profits came only from chocha-la bushes. The rare variety of chocha beans provided the most costly and desired confection in the Empire, and because of a freak concentration of minerals in his soil, the Tuscalora were blessed with the most outstanding plantation in the Empire. Had Jidu the wits to operate in an organized fashion, he would have been a wealthy man. Instead, he was merely affluent.
But poor estate management was no reason to presume the Tuscalora ruler was ineffectual. Lord Jidu's argumentative reputation had more than once led to bloodshed with his neighbours to the south. Only the Acoma strength, before Sezu's death, had blunted the man's aggressive nature. Mara came expecting trouble and hoping to avoid conflict. Even as she greeted Lord Jidu, her entire garrison, save a few guards along the outer perimeter of her property, were moving into place a short distance from the Tuscalora border. If the matter came to battle, Tasido and Lujan would lead a combined assault upon the Tuscalora, while Keyoke held the reserves to protect the home estate house. If Mara's contingency plan failed - if the battle went against her and the Acoma could retreat in time to minimize their fatalities - enough strength remained to keep Ayaki alive until his Anasati grandfather could rescue him. Mara put aside such thoughts. Under such circumstances, she would be dead and all would be in the hands of the gods - or Tecuma of the Anasati.
Warned of his visitor by a runner from his border guard, Lord Jidu bowed without stepping from the shade of his foyer. That Mara's honour guard came armed for battle did not ruffle him as he leaned casually against his doorpost and said, 'Lady Mara, your arrival is an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe the honour?' His face became instantly impassive as his visitor ordered her warriors to stand at ease around her litter. The Lady clearly intended to stay, despite the fact that the Lord of the Tuscalora pointedly scanted courtesy by not inviting her inside for refreshments.
Chilled by the man's calculating eyes, Mara forced herself to begin. 'Lord Jidu, I have a note signed by you promising the sum of two thousand centuries in metal to my late husband. My hadonra has communicated with your hadonra regarding this matter several times in the last few weeks. When another request, personally made by me, was delivered to you, you took it upon yourself to answer with insult. I came to speak of this.'
'I'm not certain I take your meaning,' said the Lord of the Tuscalora. He made a show of tossing aside a fruit rind and, with a curt motion of his head, sent one of his servants swiftly into the house. The next instant the runner flashed out through a side entrance, sprinting for what surely would be the soldiers' quarters.
'I mean this,' said Mara with all the forcefulness she could muster. 'When you say you do not feel obliged to respond to my message and would be pleased if I would cease "nagging at you", you insult my honour, Lord Jidu.' Pointing an accusatory finger, she looked more like the image of her father than she knew. 'How dare you speak to me like some fishwife by the riverside! I am the Lady of the Acoma! I will not abide such instruction from any man! I demand the respect I am due.'
The Lord pushed away from the doorpost, his manner no longer languid. Speaking as if to a child, he said, 'Lady Mara, betting debts are not usually settled so directly. Your late husband understood.'
Mara snapped her fan shut, certain the man was stalling her. The instant his garrison received the call to arms, his mockingly paternal solicitude would end. She swallowed, bitterly resolved, and answered with the pride of her ancestors. 'My late husband no longer rules, but I can assure you, had Lord Buntokapi received such impolite demands to "cease nagging", he would be challenging you over the point of his sword. Don't think I will do less if you do not apologize at once and make g
ood the debt.'
Lord Jidu stroked his plump waistline like a man just rising from a feast. He watched Mara keenly, and his confidence warned her before the rattle of armour and weapons that a squad of Tuscalora soldiers hurried into view. Papewaio went tense by her side. These were not slack household guards but soldiers well seasoned by extended duty on the border. They stationed themselves at either side of the doorway, in an advantageous formation: in the event of attack, the Acoma bowmen would be forced to fire uphill, and into the glare of the sun.
Pulling himself up to the limit of his squat stature, Lord Jidu stopped stroking his stomach. 'If I avow that your demand for payment is an affront, what then, Lady Mara? To pester me for the sums due you implies I will not pay my debt. I think you may have insulted Tuscalora honour.'
The accusation caused the soldiers by the door to clap hands to their sword hilts. Their discipline was faultless; and their readiness to charge, a palpable tension in the air. Papewaio signalled the Acoma retinue, and as smoothly the Lady's green-armoured guard closed protectively about the litter, shields angled outward. Surrounded by men who sweated with nerves and determination, Mara resisted the need to blot her own damp palms. Had her father felt the same fear as he charged on the barbarian world, knowing his death awaited? Fighting to maintain an outward appearance of calm, Mara looked between the shield rims of her bodyguard and locked stares with the Lord of the Tuscalora. 'Then we agree we have a cause to settle.'
Sweat sparkled on Jidu's upper lip, yet his eyes were not cowed. He flicked his fingers, and instantly his line of soldiers crouched in preparation for a charge. Almost inaudibly Papewaio murmured for his own men to hold steady. But his heel scuffed backward in the gravel, and behind the litter Mara heard a faint rustle. The archer crouched there, beyond the view of the estate house, had seen the signal. Surreptitiously he strung his bow, and Mara felt fear like a blade in her heart. Papewaio was preparing to fight, and his instincts in matters of war were uncanny.
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