Mara sniffed again. Now her nose dripped also. Pushing her sleeves out of harm’s way, she silently admitted the truth. She had been terrified, most so at the moment she had thought the bandits might be attacking her estates while she futilely searched the hills for them.
Again Mara scolded herself: this is not how a Ruling Lady acts! Then she understood the root of her feelings: she didn’t know how a Ruling Lady was expected to act. Lacking any schooling in governance, she was a temple girl thrust into the deadliest contest in the Empire.
Mara reviewed an early lesson from her father: doubts could only cripple one’s ability to act decisively; and in the Game of the Council, to hesitate was to die.
To avoid dwelling on weakness, Mara peered through a crack in the curtains at the newly recruited Acoma retainers. Despite soiled clothing, haggard faces, arms like sticks, and eyes of frightened animals, these men were soldiers, yet now Mara recognized a quality in them she had failed to see before: these outlaws, even the roguish Lujan, had been just as frightened as she. Mara found that perplexing, until she reconsidered the ambush from their perspective. Despite being outnumbered, the Acoma warriors were all battle-tested soldiers, properly armed and fit. Some of these grey warriors hadn’t seen a decent meal in a year. And their weapons were an odd assortment of discarded, stolen, or crudely fashioned swords and knives. Only a few had anything like a shield and none wore body armour. No, thought Mara, many of those sad, desperate men must have expected some of their unfortunate brotherhood to die this day. And each would have wondered if he’d be among that number.
The men marched unaware of their mistress’s observation. Their faces revealed a play of other emotions, among them hope and the fear of false hope. Mara sank back upon the cushions, absently focusing on the colourful design of the litter’s tapestry covering. How had she suddenly come to see all these things in these men’s faces? Could her fear have triggered some perceptiveness she had not understood within herself? Then, as if her brother, Lanokota, sat beside her, memory of his presence filled her mind. If she closed her eyes she could hear him whisper, ‘You are growing up, little sister.’
Suddenly Mara could no longer contain her tears. Now her weeping did not arise from sorrow but from a jubilant upwelling similar to the joy she had known when Lano had last won the summer games in Sulan-Qu. On that day Mara and her father had cheered like peasants from the stands, for a time unconcerned with the mores of social status and decorum; only now her emotions swept her tenfold more powerfully.
She had won. She had tasted her first victory in the Game of the Council, and the experience whetted her wits, left her yearning for something more and greater. For the first time in life she understood why the great Lords strove, and even died, for the chance to gain in honour.
Smiling through the tracks of tears, she allowed the motion of the litter to relax her body. No one she faced across the invisible gaming table of Tsurani politics would know of this move, at least not directly and not for some time. But where Minwanabi treachery had reduced the Acoma home garrison to fifty soldiers, she now commanded the loyalty of better than two hundred. Since grey warriors were scattered in hideouts the breadth of the Empire, she could employ these men to recruit more. Should she gain but another week from her sending the box with the feather and cord to the Lord of the Minwanabi, then she might have five hundred or more soldiers to offset his next threat. Mara felt joyous. She knew victory! And two voices arose from memory. On one hand the teaching sister said, ‘Child, be wary of the lure of power and triumph, for all such things are transitory.’ But Lano’s impetuous voice urged her to appreciate her accomplishments. ‘Enjoy victory while you can, Mara-anni. Enjoy it while you can.’
Mara lay back, tired enough to set her mind at rest. As her slaves bore her homeward through the deepening shadows of sundown, she smiled slightly in the privacy of her litter. While she knew that her situation was still almost hopeless, she was going to take Lano’s advice. Life must be savoured while it lasted.