Taking swift stock of other elders present, Mara said, ‘Who shall speak for the Ionani?’
Secure in his power, and holding a name among the oldest in the Empire, Tecuma said, ‘Until Clan Ionani retires to elect a new Warchief, I shall be its spokesman.’ Abruptly he pointed across the room. ‘There gathers Clan Hadama, my Lady. I suggest you hurry there and make your presence known.’
‘Lord Tecuma -‘
The old man interrupted with his hand. ‘Mara, I am a grieving man, so forgive my bluntness.’ His manner grew piercingly forced. ‘Halesko was one of those trapped upon the alien world — and by all reports he lay dying upon a lance. I have lost a second son this day. I have no time for the woman who took away my first.’
Mara felt her throat tighten. She bowed lower in sympathy. ‘My apologies, Tecuma. I was tactless not to realize.’
The Lord of the Anasati shook his head slightly in what might have been a gesture of suppressed disbelief, or pain. ‘Many of us mourn, Mara. Many brothers, sons, and fathers were trapped upon the alien world. The loss is a blow to our honour and to our hearts. Now, if you would excuse me?’ Without waiting for a reply, he turned his back on his former daughter-in-law and resumed the discussion she had interrupted.
Left outside his circle, and given a hostile look from the Yellow Flower Party member cut off when she addressed Tecuma, Mara moved on around the dais to the first set of stairs, where the Hadama Clan chiefs stood in caucus. Several bowed with respect as Mara approached, while others gave her a perfunctory nod. One or two, along with a palsied elder seated in a litter chair, offered the Acoma ruler no sign of greeting at all. Mara took stock and said, ‘How many losses have we suffered?’
The Lord of the Sutanta, a tall man in dark blue robe with pale blue trim, gave her a perfunctory bow. ‘Lord Chekowara and his forty warriors are on their way from the City of the Plains. The Lord of the Cozinchach and two vassals remain with the Emperor. Hadama’s losses were slight, since smaller clans were not placed in the forefront of the lines at the betrayal. Most of our rulers will be returning to Kentosani within the week.’
‘Who called this council?’ asked Mara.
Lord Sutanta’s leathery features stayed carefully blank. ‘Who called you here?’
Equally noncommittal, Mara said, ‘I just came.’
With a wave of his hand, Lord Sutanta indicated the filling chamber. ‘No one here would speak against the will of the Light of Heaven.’ He fixed bird-bright eyes upon Mara. ‘Also, no one here would see their firstborn son dead of treachery and sit idly at home.’
Mara nodded, and inwardly concluded the things that remained unsaid. The defiance of Ichindar’s play for power was being politely acknowledged. But in the Great Game, courtesy often masked murder. The High Council of Tsuranuanni intended to make itself heard. There would be no formal meeting this day; too many Lords were absent. No Lord would make a move until it was known which enemies and which allies remained alive to be reckoned with. Today was for taking stock, and tomorrow was for playing, seizing advantage over rivals for the openings that chance had offered. And while this council was unauthorized, this meeting was no less a round of the Great Game, for while a grey warrior could kill as easily as one sworn to house colours, so was this grey council just as deadly as one with imperial sanction.
Mara stole a quiet moment for review. Acoma prospects were not reassuring. The Minwanabi had lost a few opponents and gained a new Lord who could use all their resources, especially military might, to full potential. The odds did not favour Lord Xacatecas. As Warchief of Clan Xacala, Lord Chipino would have stood in the Emperor’s front rank; his eldest son, Dezilo, would have represented Xacatecas as third of the Five Great Families. Both were lost, which left Lady Isashani and a brood of offspring, the oldest of which were young and untrained for the Lord’s mantle – Mara’s strongest ally was now dangerously weakened. All too reliant upon Ayaki’s tenuous blood tie with the Anasati for some protection, Mara felt as though a cold breeze blew against her naked back.
Around her, like jagunas sniffing over corpses before deciding which choice bits to fight over, the ruling Lords of Tsuranuanni gathered with members of their clans, then splintered off to speak with allies and factions, usually along party lines.