Two hours later, with the hair at her temples pulled painfully taut by the weight of the pins that secured her headpiece, Mara entered the great hall of the Acoma. Awaiting her, looking hot, stood the dignitary who had spent most of two frustrating days in contention with her hadonra. Equally bothered, and near to bristling with nerves, Jican arose to announce her.
‘My Lady of the Acoma,’ he called to the visitor, who swivelled around and regarded her down a beaked nose with the stuffiness of a clerk. Behind him, but less quick to stifle expressions of irritation, a rumpled-looking contingent of scribes and trade factors shoved to their feet and offered bows.
Mara waited until their senior had performed the obeisance due her station before she advanced to her dais. All eyes marked her progress, and the tap of Keyoke’s crutch as he followed on her heels made a counterpoint to the creak of Lujan’s armour.
His sulkiness buried under silken tones, for his master’s family was one of the Great Five and above Mara’s in station, the tall emissary offered his respects. ‘Are you well, Lady of the Acoma?’
Cautious of her elaborately piled hair, Mara tipped her head. ‘I am well, First Adviser Hantigo. Is your master, Lord Keda, well?’
The Keda emissary responded stiffly to her courtesy. ‘I can say he was, when last I saw him.’
Mara took care not to smile in the face of the man’s veiled bitterness. Distantly related to the Shinzawai, his master was a powerful man, not only above her in family standing, but Warchief of Clan Kanazawai. Lord Keda’s was not a house she cared to offend, though at her instruction Jican had spent the last day and a half balking the man’s First Adviser.
Settled on her cushions, her robes arranged in layers like flower petals, Mara gestured leave to her advisers and the Keda’s emissaries to be seated. She opened promptly, as if her hadonra had not done his best to stall through the days of negotiation. ‘Nacoya tells me we are close to an understanding.’
The Keda First Adviser maintained his impeccable manners, but his tone left no doubt as to his mood. ‘With due respect to your most esteemed First Adviser, Lady Mara, the matter is far from settled.’
Mara raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? What more is there to discuss?’
The Keda First Adviser smoothed irritation with the skill of a seasoned politician. ‘We require access to the docks in Silmani, Sulan-Qu, and Jamar, Lady. Apparently your factors have purchased so much of the available warehouse space that you hold, in effect, a monopoly.’
Soured by sarcasm, one of the lesser factors broke in. ‘Given the lack of visible Acoma commerce in these areas, I would hesitate to suggest you had anticipated Keda needs and sought to frustrate them. We remind that the season is short. Time compels us to arrange an accommodation to store our goods upon the river docks. The commerce of House Keda must not suffer a detrimental interruption.’
Lest the angry clerk reveal too much, the Keda First Adviser took matters back in hand. ‘My master has ordered me to make inquiry into your requirements and bargain for purchase of your contracts for warehouse leases in the three cities mentioned. After two days of talk, we are unclear exactly what price you demand.’
A movement in the shadows at the far corner of the hall drew Mara’s eye; unobtrusive, silent as always, Arakasi entered. He saw at once that his mistress had noticed him, and gave her a clear signal to proceed with the matter at hand. Mara concealed her satisfaction over the Spy Master’s efficiency and looked pointedly at the Keda First Adviser. ‘Hantigo, Acoma plans for those facilities are Acoma business. Suffice it to say that we will be relinquishing advantage in the fall markets next year if we do not retain our current contracts.’