Kevin’s arms tightened around her shoulders. As if she were his only antidote against pain, he held her; yet he said what could no longer be denied. ‘If I could be a free man, then I would stay with you forever. But as a slave, I would take any expedient I could to return home.’
Mara lost the heart to control her” sobbing. ‘But you can never be free . . . here.’
‘I know. I know.’ He brushed damp hair from her cheek and lost his own poise with the touch. His tears fell as freely as hers. The depths had been shared at last, and acknowledged: while they loved each other desperately, there would always be this open wound, as vast as an ocean and as deep as a chasm, and as wide as the rift between worlds.
Events in the Holy City revolved around the coming peace conference. With only days left before the Emperor’s departure, the Ruling Lords of the Empire exchanged heated speculation over what terms had been agreed to in advance; yet even Arakasi’s network could glean only sparse information on that subject. Mara spent long hours closeted with her scribes, sending messages to allies and tentatively confirming ties. Occasionally she entertained other Lords whose town houses were located nearer to the inner city and whose households had been inconvenienced by damage.
Small frustrations and concessions balanced larger ones. The craftsmen were slow in replacing her lost litter; with every carpenter in Kentosani busy fixing broken rooftrees, lintels, and doorframes, not even an apprentice could be borrowed from the work. Jican bargained to no avail. Imperial decree held a freeze on all private contracts until the dockside warehouses were rebuilt. Mara resigned herself to playing host to those she wished to see, until Lord Chipino of the Xacatecas heard of her straits and sent a replacement litter as a gift.
It was Xacatecas purple and yellow, and well chipped, since a succession of Isashani’s daughters had used it for shopping excursions. Jican remedied the matter by delving into the cellars after paint, but there were still no craftsmen to be hired. The task in the end fell to Tamu, a runner slave who had outgrown his post and graduated to formal messenger. But for three days after, young Tamu sat idle because his hands and arms were stained green to the elbow.
But at least the litter looked passable. Mara made social calls and compared her findings with Arakasi.
Overtly, the ruling Lords of Tsuranuanni were supportive of the Emperor’s intervention; they sent their eldest sons to serve the imperial delegation, and they did not break peace. But beneath compliant manners, each Lord jockeyed for position, and counted enemies, and made compacts. Frustrated in their desire to convene the council, the rulers of all the great houses made covert, alternative plans.
Mara paid particular attention to the movements of the Minwanabi. Tasaio remained in exile in the remote western islands. But Desio had insinuated another cousin, Jeshurado, into the former Warlord’s army as Subcom-mander, which gave Minwanabi an ally in the Emperor’s camp. Desio was one of the five Warchiefs who would be in attendance at the conference on Midkemia, along with Andero of the Keda, the Lord of the Xacatecas, and the Lord of the Tonmargu.
But Clan Oaxatucan named no Omechan Warchief, owing to bitter infighting over who should succeed the seat left vacant by Almecho. His eldest nephew, Decanto, was the obvious choice, but another nephew, Axantucar, had shown unexpectedly strong backing from other members of the clan. Since the most vigorous factions were deadlocked, and many held back from supporting either man, Decanto and Axantucar were forced to cede the privilege to a third cousin, Pimaca, to act as Omechan Warchief for the imperial honour guard.
Mara’s inquiry into the role taken by the Great Ones had drawn no clear answers. But Arakasi did find a relationship between the Assembly of Magicians and the Blue Wheel Party. As Mara watched the water fall in silver streams from the fountains in her courtyard garden, the Spy Master addressed that point, it turns out that the Great One Fumita was once the younger brother to Lord Kamatsu of the Shinzawai, and is Hokanu’s true father.’
Mara showed astonishment. For whenever and wherever arcane talent was discovered, the Assembly took that man for training and broke all ties to family. Children were raised by relatives as if they were their own, their ties to their natural parents ‘forgotten’. ‘So Hokanu is Kamatsu’s adopted son and actually a nephew by blood.’ Since his mother had sworn service to the temple of Indiri after her husband’s departure, Kamatsu and Kasumi were the only family Hokanu had known since the age of ten.
‘Do you know if Fumita ever visits his son?’ she asked of her Spy Master.
Arakasi shrugged. ‘Kamatsu’s house is well guarded. Who can know?’