Nacoya returned the ritual reply. ‘The Lady Mara welcomes so honoured a guest as Bruli of the Kehotara into our presence.’
At that moment the small form of the runner slave appeared through a side door. He carried a baton marked with white ribbons, signalling the arrival of a message. Mara feigned a struggle to hide relief. ‘Bruli,’ she said quickly, ‘you are welcome in our home. Please ask for whatever you wish from our servants. They will see that you are comfortable. Now, if you will excuse me, the press of business cannot be long ignored by the Lady of the Acoma. I will see you again, perhaps tomorrow?’
She rose, revealing a slenderness hidden until now by the elaborate ceremonial dress. Her bow was peremptory, and she stepped precipitously through a side screen, leaving Bruli of the Kehotara with memorized words of poetry unsaid and a befuddled expression on his face.
Nacoya took over smoothly, according to plan. Knowing vanity to be the great weakness of this young noble, she stepped to Bruli’s side, taking his arm and patting it in a motherly manner.
Bruli’s gaze hardened, still fixed upon the doorway through which Mara had departed. ‘Mother of wisdom, the Lady’s behaviour borders on insult. What matter of business could not wait for my humble words of praise?’ Bruli paused and touched his hair to reassure himself that he had not mussed it when he removed his helm for his bow. ‘Surely something more has caused the Lady Mara to rebuff me in so abrupt a manner. Tell me, what is amiss?’
Nacoya resisted a smile while steering the pretty man towards a side chamber prepared with tables of wine and fruit. ‘Young sir, come take some refreshment. Then I will tell you what I have mentioned to no other, for I think you handsome and well mannered. Lady Mara is a young girl, despite being a widow. Her father, brother and husband were all warriors, fine warriors, but they are all she has ever known. She is weary of men in armour. If you wish to court her favour, return at once to Sulan-Qu and seek the best tailors there. Have them fashion lovely robes of soft weave and jaunty colours. I think if you appeared tomorrow with the look of the scholar or poet, not the warrior, that is more likely than anything to change her cold reception to your advances.’
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.’