But the old Queen clicked scoldingly at Mara’s haste. ‘You must also give one thousand swords, one thousand helmets, and one thousand shields, to be shipped upon your arrival home.’
Mara frowned. Since Jican was a competent manager, she had finances to buy what was not on hand in the warehouse. ‘Agreed.’ The bargain was hard, but fair; in time a flourishing silk trade would repay the expenditure many times over. Anxious now to deliver her news to Jican and Nacoya, Mara said, ‘When will the Queen depart?’
The matriarch conferred with her daughter, then answered, ‘Not until the autumn.’
Mara inclined her head in a gesture of respect. ‘Then I will leave at dawn and set about fulfilling our obligation to you. My workers will see that the needra are moved and the meadow is clipped and made ready, that the Queen your daughter will be welcome upon her arrival.’
The Queen matriarch signalled dismissal. ‘Go, then, Mara of the Acoma. May your gods grant you prosperity and honour, for you have dealt graciously with our kind.’
Mara spoke through a profound feeling of relief. ‘And may your hive continue to grow in prosperity and honour.’
Lax’l stepped forward to guide the humans to the surface, and the Queen’s bright eyes turned away, absorbed once more with hive matters and the complex decisions of breeding. Able to give in to exhaustion, and shaking slightly from hours of sustained stress, Mara sank back into the cushions of her litter. She gestured, and her company moved to depart. During her ride towards the surface, she felt like laughing aloud, then like crying. Seeds now sown might someday bring forth rich fruit, for she had won the means to expand upon Jican’s already impressive financial base. The silk trade in the south was not yet an established industry. Northern silk varied in quality and availability. Mara did not know how to convince this young Queen to turn silk production into the major speciality of her hive, but she would endeavour to find a means. Produced near the major southern markets, Acoma silk might someday come to dominate the trade.
Then, as her bearers bore her along the dark, richly scented tunnels of the cho-ja hive, her euphoria dimmed. Barely two weeks remained for the elaborate preparations that a wedding of two great houses entailed. Although the past night’s efforts might add to the Acoma wealth, soon that wealth must be turned over to another, the son of one of her most bitter enemies. Mara brooded in the privacy of her litter; of her acts since the death of her father and brother, her marriage to Buntokapi posed the greatest risk of them all.
The last intersection fell behind, yet the tunnel did not darken. Through the thin curtains of her litter, Mara saw the arches of the entrance of the hive, with daylight shining brightly between. Negotiations with the cho-ja queens had lasted throughout the night. The girl’s eyes ached as they adjusted to the increased light, and her head swam with weariness. Content to lie back and doze while Keyoke marshalled his escort and readied the slaves and warriors for the long march home, she did not recognize trouble until her litter shuddered to a halt, followed by the hiss of weapons being drawn.
Alarmed, Mara sat up. She reached to draw open the curtains, just as a stranger’s voice rang out in anger.
‘You! Thief! Prepare to answer for your crimes!’
Chilled awake by fear and anger, Mara whipped the gauze aside. Keyoke and the Acoma warriors waited with drawn swords, ready to defend. Beyond them stood the white-haired Lord of the Inrodaka, red-faced, tousled, and furious from a night spent in the open. Swiftly Mara took stock of his retinue. She counted a full company of soldiers, two hundred at the least, and not all of them wore Inrodaka red. Fully half were armoured in the purple and yellow of the Ekamchi.
The old Lord thrust his jaw forward and pointed his decorative family sword. ‘Lady of the Acoma! How dare you trespass upon Inrodaka lands! Your audacity oversteps your strength, to the grief and shame of your name. For stealing the daughter Queen’s hive you shall be made to pay dearly.’
Mara met the accusation with a cool look of contempt. ‘Your words are without much thought, and of less honour.’ She glanced at the fat man at Inrodaka’s side, assuming him to be the Lord of the Ekamchi. ‘The lands surrounding this hive are unclaimed – have your hadonra check the archives in Kentosani, if you doubt me. And the cho-ja are no man’s slaves. They choose with whom they bargain. And to call one who bargains in good faith a thief is an insult demanding apology!’