And then reason caught up with defensive instinct. An attack would not be heralded with a fanfare, nor take place in the light of midday. Trumpets could only signal a long-overdue call to council or other imperial announcement. Grateful the waiting was ended, Mara arose to go downstairs.
Arakasi had dispatched no reports in the interim. Mara had been reliant on hearsay bought by tossing coins over the walls to rumourmongers, and what news she managed to glean was far too sparse for the enormity of the events that had transpired. Word had passed like wind through the streets the night before that Almecho had taken his life in shame. Odd talk also circulated that the Assembly had named Milamber outcast and stripped him of his rank. Less reliable sources said the barbarian magician had eliminated the Assembly altogether. That version Mara doubted; when she tried to imagine power on a vast enough scale to subdue the tempest that had destroyed the arena, her mind balked at the concept.
Unasked, Kevin had dryly observed that he would not wish to be the one sent to inform the barbarian magician of his change in status.
Mara picked her way down the grand stair, which was stacked like shelves in an armoury with helms and bracers laid aside by resting warriors. Swords lay piled in corners, and the curved scroll of the balustrade became a mustering place for spears. Since the arrival of the relief troops, her original thirty warriors had swelled to a garrison of one hundred, and the guest suites were all jammed with officers.
The horn call had roused more sleepers, and the on-duty patrol of seventy-five was fully armoured. Prepared for immediate action, the men formed up at the appearance of their mistress and cleared a path between her and the door. Mara passed through and wondered that Kevin was not among the dicers in the corner.
The dooryard outside was no less jammed with warriors. They formed ranks three deep in the narrow space as she signalled for Lujan to unbar the street gate.
Four Imperial Whites waited on the other side, and a herald in a thigh-length robe of brilliant white. His badges of rank flashed in the sunlight, as did the golden ribbon around his head and his gilt-trimmed rod of office.
‘Lady Mara of the Acoma,’ he intoned.
Mara advanced a step ahead of Lujan and presented herself.
The herald returned a shallow bow. ‘I bring words from the Light of Heaven. Ichindar, ninety-one times Emperor, bids you retire to your home at leisure. Go in peace, for his shadow is thrown across the breadth of the land and his arms encircle you. Any who trouble your passage shall be enemies of the Empire. So he has decreed.’
The warriors behind Mara maintained an expectant stillness. But to the astonishment of all, the Emperor’s herald made no mention of a call to council. Without waiting for response, and speaking no further word, he formed up his escort and marched down the lane to the next house.
Surprised, Mara stood frowning in full sunlight while her officers closed and barred her gates. She had lost weight since the flight from the arena. Worry left her pale, with heavy shadows under her eyes, and now this latest development chilled her with bone-deep foreboding. If the Warlord had died in disgrace, and the Lords of the Empire and their families were being sent home with no call to council, the implication could no longer be doubted: the Emperor must have entered the Great Game.
‘We need Arakasi,’ Mara said, coming back to herself with a start. She raised harried eyes to her Force Commander, if the Emperor’s guard keeps the peace, surely we could send out a runner?’
‘Pretty Lady, it will be done,’ said Lujan, in an almost forgotten tone of banter. ‘Safe streets or not, every man or servant here would run barefoot through mayhem if you asked.’
‘I would not ask.’ In a mix of grave amusement, Mara looked down at her own feet, still wrapped in soft cloths from her shoeless flight through the streets. ‘I’ve tried the experience. Jican has already received orders: my slaves are all getting new sandals.’
Which in its way showed the influence of the Midkemian, though on that point Lujan withheld comment. The mistress was like no other ruler he had met, with her radical ideas, and her unflinching toughness, and her odd moments of compassion, if you think we could do with more floor space,’ he said, ‘half the garrison could be sent to the public baths.’
Now Mara did smile. ‘They don’t like being stepped on in their sleep? We are a bit overcrowded,’ she allowed. In fact, the house smelled like an uncleaned, cheap public hostel.
‘Do as you see fit, but I want an extra company kept close at hand within the city.’ As she turned to reenter the town house to arrange her summons to Arakasi, she added a final thought. ‘The last thing the Acoma are going to do is tuck up tail and run home.’ When Lujan bowed, he was grinning.