Servant of the Empire (78 page)

Mara sighed again.

That moment a shadow fell across the screen that led from the garden. ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ A familiar voice intruded from beyond.

Mara glanced up to find Kevin watching her, a wry grin on his face.

He voiced an opinion as he always did, without waiting for her invitation. ‘You’re wondering what it would be like to take a rest and let this young warrior of the Shinzawai run things.’

Startled to laughter, Mara said, ‘You … monster!’

Kevin threw himself down next to her, flung back red-gold hair that was in sore need of trimming, and paused with his mouth inches away from hers. ‘I’m right?’

She kissed him. Hokanu’s charms she could resist, but this man was a poison in her blood. ‘Yes, damn you.’

‘I’ll tell you exactly what it would be like. Dull.’ Kevin made a sweeping gesture that wound up catching her into an embrace. He kissed her back. ‘You love being in command.’

‘I never wished for the Acoma mantle,’ she responded in warning sharpness.

‘I know,’ he said easily, not rising to her challenge. ‘That doesn’t change the fact that you love it.’

Mara allowed herself a self-indulgent grimace. ‘Nobody asked your opinion.’

She had not denied his statement. To Kevin, that was as good as an admission he was right. As she leaned back, contented, against his shoulder, he pursued his conclusion ruthlessly. ‘The man you court is no weakling. Once he was husband, he’d be in command, and unless I misunderstand Tsurani tradition, you’d be forever denied rulership.’ Grinning evilly, Kevin asked, ‘So, are you going to marry him?’

Mara reached up, grabbed two fistfuls of red beard, and pulled teasingly. ‘Fool!’ Before he could howl, she released him, half-laughing. ‘I might.’ When his eyes widened, she added, ‘But not yet. The political timing is wrong, and there remain a few things to attend first.’

‘Like what?’ asked Kevin in sudden, humourless concern.

Only partially aware that his banter had masked a gnawing uncertainty, Mara’s face turned grim. ‘Like the destruction of Tasaio of the Minwanabi.’

The table was festive. Paper lanterns shed arrows of light through pierced patterns, and raised rich ruby highlights in the wine the servants had left with the meal. The plates and cutlery were the finest the closets could offer, yet neither Mara nor her guest cared to finish the last of the sweet cakes and sauce. Hokanu sat at ease on his cushions, but his attitude of relaxation was feigned. ‘I understand, of course.’

His tone was mild, unsurprised, and utterly clean of resentment. Yet Mara knew him well enough to see the small, quiet interval he had taken to muster his poise in the moment that followed her refusal, for political considerations, of his informal offer of marriage. He was not distressed – at least not with the enraged bitterness Jiro had shown when she chose his brother, nor the kicked-dog hurt Kevin exhibited in his dark moods – but he felt a genuine pain at being rejected.

Not unexpectedly, his sadness made her ache. ‘Please,’ she added, with less impassivity than she intended. ‘You must know my heart.’

Hokanu glanced down at his hands, which were still and rested half-curled around his wine goblet. Impulsively Mara wished she could reach across the table and take his long, fine fingers into her own. But that would be awkward, if not improper…. She was not agreeing to become his wife. Yet she could not entirely hide her regret. ‘I… admire you more than you know. You are everything I could ask for in a father for my children. But we both rule. Our house would be an armed camp…. Where would we live? Upon this estate, surrounded by soldiers not loyal to you? On your father’s estate, with soldiers not loyal to me? Can we ask men sworn to our family natamis to obey those of another house, Hokanu?’

The sound of his name as only she could say it raised a bittersweet smile, and her words brought a surprised lift of his brows. ‘Mara, I assumed you would come and live with me upon my father’s estate, and that we would appoint anyone you chose to act as regent for Ayaki until he came to his majority.’ Hokanu made a disparaging gesture aimed entirely at himself. ‘Lady, forgive me for thoughtless presumption. I should have anticipated that you of all women would not react in the time-honoured, customary fashion.’ His expression turned dry with irony. ‘I have
admired your free spirit. To make an ordinary wife of you would be like caging a li bird, I see that now.’

He was beautiful, spangled in lamplight, with his eyes deep as the forest pools sacred to priests. Mara drew a deep breath to steady herself. ‘You assumed, Hokanu, but that was no grave fault.’ Before she realized she had indulged herself, she reached across the table and touched his hand. His skin was very warm, each tendon delineated clearly. ‘All these problems would be solved if Tasaio of the Minwanabi did not loom like a sword over my neck. If you and your family had not stood at the heart of the Emperor’s plan to force peace upon the High Council. If –’

Hokanu’s other hand moved and closed gently over hers. His expression shifted subtly, toward not anger, or pain, but rather, deep interest. ‘Go on.’

‘If we lived in a place’ – she hesitated, unsure how to phrase a concept largely inspired by Kevin – ‘where law ruled in deed as well as word, where politics did not countenance murder …’ She paused, and realized on the moment that his silence was a reflection of her own; that the hand upon her hand had tightened with shared resentment against the ingrained flaws in their culture she herself had reluctantly come to recognize. The easy rapport disturbed her, and to set it at a distance, she focused only on words. ‘If we lived at a time when we knew our children could grow without knives behind every door, then, Hokanu of the Shinzawai, I would be deeply honoured to become your wife. There is no man in the Empire I would rather have as the father of my next child.’ She looked away from him, fearful that his presence would tempt her to further breaches in protocol. ‘But until the council is more settled, and things as we know them are different, a union between us would bring risk to both of our houses.’

Hokanu was silent. He caressed her hand as he released her, and said nothing until she turned back to him, that he
might face her squarely. ‘You are wise beyond your years, Lady Mara. I cannot pretend I am not disappointed. I can only admire your staunchness.’ He tilted his head fractionally to one side. ‘Your rare strength makes you all the more to be cherished.’

Mara found moisture in her eyes. ‘Hokanu, some daughter of another house will be a lucky woman.’

Hokanu bowed at the compliment. ‘Such a daughter must be more than lucky before she could displace my feelings for you. Before I go, may I at least know that you look favourably upon friendship with the Shinzawai?’

‘Assuredly,’ she said, giddy with relief that he had not been angry or let her rebuff displace courtesy. More than she realized, she had been afraid her refusal might turn him against her. ‘I would cherish that as a privilege.’

‘Count it a gift,’ Hokanu said. ‘One you are worthy of.’ He sipped the last swallow of his wine, then smoothly prepared to take his leave.

Mara forestalled him, as much to delay the unhappy moment of his leaving. ‘If you would allow, I would beg a favour.’

He paused, balanced in the instant of rising. His dark eyes searched her, honestly, without suspicion that she might use his weakness for her to gain her own ends, but in an intense desire to fathom her motives. Mara read his look and knew, at heart, how alike they were: both of them had an instinct for the Great Game, and the will to play the stakes fully.

Hokanu said, ‘What would you ask, Lady Mara?’

She strove to lighten her manner, while weighing how to broach an awkward subject. ‘It is my understanding that a Great One calls frequently at your home.’

Hokanu nodded, his face now expressionless. ‘This is true.’

Across a pained stillness, Mara added, ‘I very much desire
to have an informal talk with such a personage. If you could facilitate a meeting, I would count myself in your debt.’

Hokanu’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not voice his curiosity about Mara’s motives. ‘I shall see what I can do.’

Then he did rise, briskly, and gave her a formal bow in farewell, along with graceful phrases. Mara rose also, saddened that the mood of intimacy had been broken. His charm was all on the surface now, and try though she might, she could not read deeper. When he was gone, she sat in the light of the paper lanterns, turning and turning her wineglass in her hands. She could not recall his last words, but only that he had masked his emotions all too well.

The cushions across the table seemed something more than empty, and the night a bit more than dark.

In time, Nacoya came, as Mara expected she might. The old woman’s instincts were unerring. After a look at her mistress, the old woman sat down at her side. ‘Daughter of my heart, you look troubled.’

Mara leaned against the older woman, allowing herself to be hugged as if she were a girl once again. ‘Nacoya, I did as I must, rejecting Hokanu’s suit. But I am disturbed by a sadness that has no cause. I would not have thought I could love Kevin as deeply as I do, yet feel sorrow at declining Hokanu’s proposal.’

Nacoya raised a hand and gently stroked Mara’s cheek as she had through painful years of growing. ‘Daughter, the heart can hold more than one. Each of these men has his place in it.’

Mara sighed, allowing herself a moment of comfort in the old woman’s arms. Then she smiled ruefully. ‘You always warned me that love was a tangle. I never understood until now just how much of one, and how many were the thorns.’

At the sound of the gong, Mara stiffened. Kevin had just begun to slide his hand down her back, but warm flesh slid
away and suddenly eluded his fingers. Left entangled in bedclothes, Kevin found himself alone. Belatedly he realized that never before had he heard the tone that had roused her. Glancing up from the sleeping mat, he said, ‘What is it?’

His sleepy question tangled with a flurry of activity as the door to Mara’s quarters slid open and two maids hurried in with combs and pins. Others followed, flinging open the wardrobe, and within an instant the mistress was inundated with formal robes, dressers, and women who started to comb out the hair left mussed from the bed.

Kevin frowned. Shaken rudely from a pleasant interlude, he realized his Lady had spoken no word to order such an untimely invasion. ‘What’s going on?’ he inquired, loudly enough that this time he was noticed.

‘A Great One comes!’ Mara said impatiently, then followed with instructions for her maids on which jewellery she would wear with her formal gown. ‘I’ll want the iron necklace for this occasion, and also the jade tiara.’

‘At this hour?’ asked Kevin, heaving himself off the mat. He picked up his grey robe and wrapped it around himself.

From the centre of the activity, Mara released a sigh of exasperation. ‘Most days I would already be an hour out of bed.’

‘Well,’ said Kevin, clearly the guilty party. He had done his best to detain her, and at first his efforts had been reciprocated willingly. ‘Do forgive the inconvenience.’ His tone was light, but he was plainly confused by her sudden departure from his arms.

Mara let the maids fuss over her pins and her sash. ‘Great Ones have no time to spare for vagaries.’ She seemed ready to add more, but at a second stroke of the gong the softness that started to become a smile vanished. ‘Enough! The Great One is here!’

The maids backed away and made their bows, while their mistress stood, satisfied that her hair was bound up simply,
but in neat fashion, with four pins holding the arrangement. The rare metal jewellery and jade tiara were enough to let this Great One know she did not take his coming lightly.

As she thrust on her slippers and headed for the door, her slave reflexively began to follow. ‘No. You may not come.’

Kevin began an immediate protest, and Mara said, ‘Silence! If this magician decided you had slighted him in any fashion, he could order the death of every member of this house. I would be obliged to do as he bid, no matter what the cost. A Great One’s words are as law. Knowing this, I refuse to risk your unguarded tongue within earshot of him.’

She permitted no more argument but hurried through the door and crossed the courtyard to another wing. There lay a small, five-sided room without furnishing or ornament beyond a shatra bird inlaid in onyx in the floor. The chamber had not been used in her lifetime, but every household had a similar room, or nook, or alcove, with a clear symbol set into the floor. Any magician in the Empire could focus his will upon the pattern of that house and call at whim. Such an arrival was traditionally announced by the gong tone, sent by magical means to the location where a Great One intended to appear. A second chime signalled arrival, and that had occurred several minutes past.

In the chamber Mara found Nacoya, Keyoke, and Saric already standing before a stern-looking man in a black robe. She bowed deeply as she reached the door. ‘Great One, forgive my lack of promptness in greeting you. I was but half-dressed when you arrived.’

The man inclined his head as if the matter held little consequence. He was of gaunt build and medium height, and though the robe concealed details, something about his carriage seemed familiar. ‘Through the agency of one for whom I have some affection, it has come to my attention that you desired to speak with me.’

The voice clued her: though older, this magician had the same rich intonation that Hokanu did. Mara’s eyes opened slightly. This was none other than Fumita, the Shinzawai heir’s blood father. Hokanu had taken her request very personally indeed; and it would seem her hunch was correct, that some tie to family yet remained between this member of the Assembly and the Shinzawai.