Servant of the Empire

Arakasi rose, and his eyes roved the chamber, seeking. ‘Where is Kevin? He should hear this, as you will certainly want his opinion.’

 

 

Mara flicked her hand, and her runner departed for the kitchen, where the Midkemian had gone for hot chocha. Already returning up the stairs, the barbarian slave entered almost immediately. ‘What’s the excitement?’ he asked as he set down a tray laden with a pot and assorted cups. ‘A bit of spiced chocha hardly seems cause for getting nearly knocked flat by your runner.’

 

Kevin’s back was turned to Mara as he bent to pour the first cup, and he had not noticed Arakasi, who habitually sought the least conspicuous corner.

 

‘First, the barbarians -‘ the Spy Master began.

 

Startled into rattling the china, Kevin spun. ‘You!’ He covered his overreaction with a sour smile. ‘What about the barbarians?’

 

Arakasi cleared his throat. ‘The outworlders have launched a completely unexpected and massive counter-offensive. Our armies on Midkemia have been overwhelmed and routed back to the valley where we control the rift! We have just suffered the worst defeat of the war!’

 

Tactful for once, Kevin reined back a laugh of joy. But he could not resist a smug look at Arakasi as he handed his Lady her spiced chocha.

 

‘What else?’ Mara-asked, sure there must be more because of her Spy Master’s precipitous entrance.

 

‘Second,’ Arakasi ticked off, ‘the Emperor has agreed to meet with the barbarian King to discuss peace!’

 

Mara dropped her cup. ‘What?’ Her exclamation cut across the smash of china, and steaming chocha splashed in a flood across the floor.

 

Kevin stood rooted. Mara ignored the drenched tiles, and the fine spray of stains that spread slowly through the hem of her robe. ‘Peace?’

 

Arakasi continued, speaking quickly. ‘My agent in the palace sent word this morning. Before the Warlord’s last major offensive, two agents of the Blue Wheel Party slipped through the rift with the outbound troops. They were Kasumi of the Shinzawai and a barbarian slave, and they left the encampment and carried words of peace to the barbarian King.’

 

‘That’s why your Shinzawai friend wasn’t at the games,’ Kevin said. ‘He didn’t know if he was going to be a hero or an outlaw.’

 

Mara pulled wet cloth from her knees, but called no maids to assist. ‘Kasumi. That’s Hokanu’s brother.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘But the Blue Wheel Party would never do something this bold without -‘

 

‘Without the Emperor’s approval,’ Arakasi interjected. ‘That’s the gist. Ichindar had to be willing to discuss peace prior to dispatching any envoy.’

 

Mara turned pale as she considered. ‘So this is why the Light of Heaven was prepared to step in and rule.’ Slowly she added to Kevin, ‘Your appraisal of our Emperor may be more accurate than we gave you credit for, my love. Ichindar meddled in the Great Game, and none knew.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘This goes counter to all tradition.’

 

Kevin pulled a napkin from the tray and knelt to dam the flow of chocha. ‘You’re one to talk. I seem to recall you’ve bent one or two traditions to the point of twisting them beyond recognition.’

 

Mara protested. ‘But the Emperor . . .’ Her awe made it clear she considered the Light of Heaven to be just short of a god.

 

‘He’s a man,’ said Kevin, the hand with the dripping rag rested on his bent knee. ‘And he’s young. Young men often do unexpected and radical things. But this one’s lived a pampered life, for all his boldness. He’s surely naive if he thinks he can skip in and order your power-hungry Tsurani Lords to pack up and go home and grow radishes.’

 

Arakasi said, ‘Mistress, whatever “radishes” may be, I fear Kevin is right.’

 

‘There’s another hand in this,’ Mara insisted, unsatisfied. She glared at her sodden overrobe, then threw it impatiently off. Fine cloth finished where Kevin’s ministrations had left off, but if a few silk cushions had been saved, Mara never noticed. ‘Had the magician Milamber not caused Almecho’s disgrace, how would things have proceeded?’

 

If the question was rhetorical, the progression was not hard to trace. Even Kevin could follow that the Blue Wheel Party would have once more reversed policy and withdrawn from the Alliance for War. This would have left Almecho with only Minwanabi as a major supporter. With the Acoma and the Xacatecas busy worrying the Minwanabi flank, Desio could not afford to increase support. Almecho and his party would have been deadlocked, after thirteen years of near-absolute rule.

 

Kevin wrung his rag savagely over the chocha tray and voiced the only viable conclusion. ‘So your Emperor would have barged into the High Council to announce a peace proposal, and your Warlord would have lacked enough support to confront him. Very neatly done.’ Kevin finished with a whistle of admiration. ‘Your Ichindar is a very smart boy.’

 

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