Ayaki kicked at his mount. Jarred from uncomfortable reflection, Kevin gave a feigned cry of pain. ‘Someone is hungry. I think I had best hurry the young Lord to the kitchen so he may plunder the larder.’
Mara laughed and gave leave. Kevin reached up, grappled Ayaki by the wrists, and swung him down to his feet, then swatted him on the backside. The future Lord of the Acoma shouted another battle cry and charged toward the shade of the estate house. As Kevin raced after with no more sense of decorum, the Lady of the Acoma shook her head. ‘Nacoya hates it when those two eat in the kitchen,’ she said to no one.
The birds in the treetops returned to their interrupted song. Mara let her mind wander. Weary of the pressures of leadership, she had lately given thought to reviving Hokanu’s interest. The Shinzawai had shored up their weakened stock in the council by rejoining Almecho’s Alliance for War, making a Shinzawai-Acoma union yet more desirable. The radicals in the Party for Progress made enough noise about social change in the council for the Blue Wheel Party’s errant behaviour to pass without comment, but Mara sensed something larger was afoot. At the least, she could use the excuse to probe Hokanu for information.
Bothered that her interest should shift so quickly from romance to politics, Mara sighed.
‘My Lady?’ Nacoya appeared in the doorway, regarding her mistress with concern. ‘Is something amiss?’
Mara waved the old woman to the mat Arakasi had vacated, ‘I grow . . . tired, Nacoya.’
Slowly, painful with her years, Nacoya knelt. The rampages of Ayaki and Kevin were forgotten as she took Mara’s fingers in her own, grown daily more gnarled with infirmity. ‘Daughter, what weighs down your heart so?’
Mara pulled away from Nacoya’s hold. As one of her ever present servants arrived to remove Arakasi’s refreshment tray, she took a dried bread crust and tossed it into the path. Two small birds swooped down to peck after the crumbs. ‘Just this moment I was considering paying court to the Lord of the Shinzawai, for Hokanu, thinking a consort might ease my burdens. But then I found myself wanting to take the excuse to wrest information on the affairs of the Blue Wheel Party. This saddens me, Nacoya, because Hokanu is too fine a man to be used so.’
Acting more as nurse than as First Adviser, Nacoya nodded her understanding. ‘Your heart has no room for romance, daughter. For good or ill, Kevin holds all your affections.’
Mara bit her lip, while the birds stabbed and scrapped for the last bit of bread. For years her household had kept silence before the obvious: that her love for the barbarian slave was more than a woman’s need for a man’s arms to comfort her against loneliness. Dutiful to a fault, Nacoya had not broached a subject the mistress had forbidden to her – no matter how often she might ignore Mara’s wishes about trivial concerns. But since Mara had matured enough to question her own course, the elderly woman spoke plainly. ‘Daughter, I warned you the first night the barbarian slave came to your bed. That is as it has been. Nothing can change what has occurred. Now you must face your responsibility.’
Mara bridled, and the small birds spread nervous wings and flew. ‘Do I not spend my life protecting what shall be Ayaki’s someday?’
Her eyes on the abandoned bread crust, Nacoya said, ‘Your father would glow with pride to know you have prevailed against his enemies. But your days are not your own. You are the life of House Acoma. No matter how great your desire, daughter, you must rule first and find your happiness second.’
Mara nodded, her face an emotionless mask. ‘I have moments . . .’
Nacoya recaptured Mara’s hand. ‘Moments that none who loves you begrudges, daughter. But the time will come when you must seek a firm alliance, if not with Hokanu of the Shinzawai, then with another noble’s son. This new consort must father a child, to seal the alliance between our house and his. As Ruling Lady, you may ask to your bed whoever pleases you, and none may say no, but only after you bear a child to your husband. Before that, there must be no question who the father is. None. For that child must be as a bridge of stone across a deep chasm.’
‘I know.’ Mara sighed. ‘But until that time I shall pretend . . .’ She left the thought unfinished.
When Nacoya made no move to leave, Mara forced aside her melancholy. ‘You have news?’
The former nurse scowled to hide a smile of pride. ‘The visiting emissary of Lord Keda is at the end of his wits and patience. He will press for a settlement this afternoon. You will need to eat, and see to your appearance, for Jican has used up excuses. The time has come for you to take charge of negotiations.’
Mara summoned up an impish grin. ‘The desperate and vexing matter of grain warehouses. I had not forgotten.’ She rose, offered a hand to the elder woman to ease her back to her feet, then made her way to her quarters, where maids awaited with an exhaustive array of formal robes.