Servant of the Empire

‘My Lady, if I may presume,’ the Keda First Adviser said with the faintest hint of acerbity. ‘Next fall’s markets are of little concern to Keda interests. It is this spring that our grain must be upon the river at flood. When our factor at Jamar was ignored by your own, we made efforts to negotiate rights to sublet the .warehouses.’ He cleared his throat and forced himself not to sound patronizing; this was not a capricious girl he confronted but a proven player of the game. ‘Because it is not common for a Ruling Lady to be concerned with minor matters of trade, we were slow to bring the matter to your attention, but, my Lady, the days that remain now are crucial.’

 

 

‘For the Keda,’ interjected Mara. Arakasi’s intelligence had hinted that Keda spring crops were sitting in granaries upon farms upriver, awaiting word that dockside storage was available. When the spring floods began, the grain needed to be close at hand for transport by boats and barges downriver to the markets at the Holy City, Sulan-Qu, and Jamar. The dry winters of lowland Kelewan were the only season when travel on the Gagajin – the heartline of commerce in the Empire – was restricted. While smaller craft could negotiate the shoals during winter, deep-draught barges laden with cargo could not pass the shallows between Sulan-Qu and Jamar. Only when the spring snow melt from the mountainous High Wall swelled the waters could heavy cargo make passage. Mara had tried to tie up the dock space at Kentosani, the Holy City, as well, but had failed, owing to imperial edict – no one could commandeer the warehouses under long contracts, against the possibility of imperial need.

 

Yet even with this setback, Mara had established a barrier to an opponent’s trade, but in such a way that no overt act or threat was ever made. That Lord Keda sent his First Adviser to another house as negotiator proved her impulsive plot had touched a weakness; the dilemma concerning the grain impasse was a matter of critical urgency.

 

Mara feigned consternation. ‘Well then, if my advisers have not been clear, let me set the terms.’ She paused, as though counting on her fingers, then said, ‘We shall grant you full rights to our warehouses in Silmani, without restriction, from this day to the day after your crops leave for the south. And equal access to warehouses in all your southern market cities, again without restriction, until you have sold the last of this year’s crops, but no longer than until the first day of summer.’

 

The First Adviser of the Keda sat motionless, no expression on his face, but his weary manner turned avid as he waited to hear the price.

 

Almost, Mara regretted to disappoint him. ‘In exchange, your Lord must grant to me the promise of a vote in the council, to be cast as I require, without reservation or question.’

 

In violation of protocol, the Keda First Adviser blurted, ‘Impossible!’

 

Mara returned only silence. On cue, Nacoya said, ‘First Adviser! You forget yourself!’

 

Stung to shame, Hantigo flushed and fought to recover poise. ‘I beg the Lady’s forgiveness.’ Coldly he narrowed his eyes. ‘Nevertheless, I would be less than faithful to my Lord should I answer this request in any way save no.’

 

Aware that Lujan was smothering an ill-timed smile, and that Arakasi watched her in appreciation from his vantage at the rear of the hall, Mara managed her part to perfection. ‘That is our price.’

 

The clerks and factors looked miffed, and Hantigo’s flush receded to a pallor that left him trembling. ‘Lady, you ask too much.’

 

‘You could hire wagons and drive the grain to the southern markets,’ whispered a mortified factor. Hantigo glowered and answered through clenched teeth. ‘Had that been a feasible option, I should never have left the shade of my master’s estates. The margin we had for alternatives has been wasted, and even should our wagons depart this hour, the grain would arrive too late to catch the market at peak. We would be forced to take whatever price the brokers offered.’

 

Hantigo faced Mara, his features a bland mask. ‘Keda honour has no price.’

 

But Arakasi had disclosed that this year the Lord of the Keda was overextended. If pride was paramount to him, he could sell the grain at a loss and wait for another year to recoup. Yet Mara sensed that to force him to such a pass would be dangerous, perhaps even earn his enmity. She smiled, and warmth seemed to radiate from her. ‘First Adviser Hantigo, you mistake me. I intend no disrespect toward Andero of the Keda. Allow me to pledge before these witnesses that I shall ask your master to support me only in a matter that holds significance to House Acoma. I will promise further that no vote shall be demanded that can adversely reflect upon the honour of House Keda. No demand of mine would call for military aid to the Acoma, or attack upon a third party, or any other act that would require Keda property or wealth to be placed at risk. I merely seek sureties to block any future attempts to disadvantage me in the High Council. Surely you recall the difficulty the imperial call to muster on the border imposed upon my house?’

 

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