Motionless in the shade before her, Arakasi awaited his mistress’s response. Finally Mara said, ‘Must we go?’
Arakasi stayed quiet as the leaves in the still air as he answered. ‘Imperial peace will be enforced, so no overt threat can be mounted.’
‘Overt,’ she said. ‘That is scant reassurance against Minwanabi plotting. Need I remind you the first attempt upon my life was by an assassin of the Red Hands of the Flower Brotherhood in my own contemplation glade?’
The event had occurred before Arakasi’s service, yet he knew the story well. He inclined his head. ‘Mistress, there is a good chance Desio will behave. Your standing in the council is the highest in memory, higher than your father’s, if truth be told. And our remaining agents in the Minwanabi house have sent us word that Jiro of the Anasati visited with Desio not two weeks ago.’
Mara raised her eyebrows. ‘Go on.’
Dapples of sunlight slid across Arakasi’s face as he sipped at a cup of fruit juice. ‘Our agents were unable to overhear them directly, but after Jiro departed, Desio raged for an entire day, complaining bitterly that he would not be dictated to in his own house by a rival family. From this we might surmise that Tecuma of the Anasati has sent his son to warn against precipitate actions against his grandson.’
Mara glanced at Ayaki, shrieking his enthusiasm as he leaped upon the now prone Kevin. ‘Perhaps. Though I find it difficult to believe Tecuma would send his second son. Jiro’s hatred of me is no secret.’
Arakasi shrugged. ‘Possibly Tecuma sent his son to emphasize his serious intentions.’
The flowers’ perfume suddenly seemed oppressive. ‘Emphasize to whom?’ Mara said. ‘Desio or Jiro?’
Arakasi showed a faint smile. ‘Perhaps both.’
Mara shifted on her cushions. ‘I would like to know for certain before I risk a trip to the Holy City.’
Her restlessness signalled decision, intuitively grasped by Arakasi. ‘Mistress, I think I had best be present when you attend this celebration to honour the Light of Heaven. For reasons that elude my network, the Blue Wheel Party’s sudden reversal of loyalty has vaulted the Warlord into an almost unassailable position. Almecho can dictate to the council now, and should khindar break tradition – as gossip says he might – and attend the games in person . . .’
Excited that his assessment matched hers, Mara nodded. ‘The Emperor’s appearance would endorse Almecho’s acts, effectively undermining the High Council for the span of this Warlord’s rule.’
In a rapport that only deepened with time’s passage, mistress and Spy Master contemplated possible ramifications. Much would occur in Kentosani besides games and celebrations. Those families who seized the initiative would not hang back at home. The Warlord might become dictator for life, but he could not live forever. Sooner or later the Great Game would resume.
Arakasi tensed as the patches of sunlight on his knees fell into sudden shadow. Kevin’s approach had gone unnoticed
until he stood, holding Ayaki on his shoulders, looming over the mat where Mara held her conference.
‘My Lady,’ the Midkemian said formally, ‘the heir to your title is hungry.’
Gladdened by the distraction, Mara smiled. To Arakasi she said, ‘Speak with Nacoya and Keyoke and make ready to leave tomorrow. You shall travel to Kentosani with the servants and slaves sent ahead to prepare our city house and our apartment in the Imperial Palace. Confirm all the resident staff’s loyalty. We dare not assume all plotting will be directed at the Warlord.’
Well satisfied with his assignment, Arakasi rose, made his bow, and departed. When the Lady still lingered in serious thought, Kevin broke her abstracted mood. ‘Are we going somewhere?’
Mara met his blue eyes with a look too deep to interpret. ‘The Warlord has announced a major celebration to honour the Emperor. We leave for the Holy City next week.’
Her news was met with equanimity, even by the volatile Ayaki. In the months since her return from Dustari, life had settled back to routine; Mara had acceded to Kevin’s wish to ease the Midkemians’ lot; and with better food and housing, new blankets, and a lighter work schedule, Patrick’s impatience had subsided. But the schism remained between Kevin and his fellow countrymen; pretending otherwise would not heal it. While escape was not mentioned, freedom was never far from the other captives’ thoughts; they might not press, but they knew that Kevin visited only out of duty. He would never join them as long as he shared Mara’s bed.