Respectful of Papewaio’s vigilance, Lujan bowed carefully before the girl who threatened to upset the life he had known past recovery. ‘Lady, your words are . . . astonishing . . . generous beyond imagining. But we have no masters to free us of our former service.’ Something akin to defiance flickered in his eyes.
Mara noticed and strove to understand. Though roguish, even handsome beneath his grime, the outlaw bore himself in the manner of a man threatened; and suddenly the girl knew why. These men simply owned no sense of purpose, living from day to day, without hope. If she could make them take fate back into their own hands and swear loyalty to the Acoma, she would gain warriors of inestimable value. But she had to make them believe once mote.
‘You have no service,’ she said gently to Lujan.
‘But we gave oath . . .’ His voice fell to barely above a whisper. ‘No offer like this has been made before. We . . . Who among us can know what is honourable?’ Lujan seemed half pleading, as if he wished Mara to dictate what was right; and the rest of the company looked to their chieftain for guidance.
Suddenly feeling every inch the unseasoned seventeen-year-old novice of Lashima, Mara turned to Keyoke for support. The old warrior did not fail her. Though he was as discomforted as Lujan by this abuse of tradition, his voice remained calm. ‘A soldier must die in the service of his master, or be dishonoured, so it is held. Yet, as my Lady points out, if fate decrees otherwise, no man is fit to argue with the gods. If the gods do not wish you to serve the Acoma, their displeasure will certainly be visited upon that house. My Lady assumes that risk, in her own behalf, and yours. With or without the favour of heaven, all of us will die. But the bold among you will chance misfortune,’ and he paused for a long moment before adding, ‘and die as soldiers.’
Lujan rubbed his wrists, unconvinced. To anger the gods was to invite utter ruination. At least as an outlaw the miserable existence he would endure for life might expiate his failure to die with his master, perhaps earning his soul a higher station when it was next bound to the Wheel of Life.
As the bandits reflected the nervousness of their leader, each plainly divided within himself, Papewaio scratched his scar and said thoughtfully, ‘I am Papewaio, First Strike Leader of the Acoma. I was born to service with this house, but my father and grandfather counted kin with cousins serving the Shinzawai, the Wedewayo, the Anasati . . .’He paused and, when no man spoke, added the names of several more houses.
Lujan stood frozen, his eyes half-closed, as behind him a man called out. ‘My father served the house of Wedewayo, where I lived before I took service with the Lord of the Serak. His name was Almaki.’
Papewaio nodded, thinking quickly. ‘Was this the Almaki who was cousin to Papendaio, who was my father?’
The man shook his head in disappointment. ‘No, but I knew him. He was called Little Almaki, as my father was Big Almaki. I had other cousins of my father serving there, though.’
Papewaio beckoned the man from the ranks, and out of Mara’s hearing they spoke quietly for several minutes.
After an animated inverval the bandit broke into a broad grin, and the Strike Leader turned to his mistress with a deferential bow. ‘My Lady, this is Toram. His uncle was cousin to a man who married a woman who was sister to the woman who married my father’s nephew. He is my cousin, and worthy of service to the Acoma.’
Mara hid a smile behind her sleeve. Pape and the obviously clever Toram had seized upon a simple fact of Tsurani culture. Second and third sons of soldiers by tradition were free to take service with houses other than those in which they were born. By treating this grey warrior as if he were a youth, Papewaio had circumvented Lujan’s question of honour entirely. When Mara had recovered her decorum, she said simply, Tape, call your cousin into our service, if he is willing.’
Papewaio caught Toram’s shoulder in brotherly fashion. ‘Cousin, you are called to serve the Acoma.’
The man raised his chin with newfound pride and crisply announced his acceptance. ‘I will come!’