Mara put up a hand, silencing him. ‘That is logical. Once Minwanabi wore the white and gold, the Xacatecas would be free from the immediate worry of attack from the other four great families.’
‘We would have time to muster our defences while Tasaio was occupied destroying the Acoma.’ Hoppara’s tone was matter-of-fact. ‘However,’ he hastened to add, ‘it is only a choice of last resort. While safest for the Xacatecas in the short run, an Empire under the dictates of a Minwanabi Warlord . . .’ His voice trailed off in distaste.
Kevin voiced his puzzlement. ‘Damned if I understand that logic’
Hoppara’s eyebrows rose. ‘I would have thought . . .’ To Mara he said, ‘Have you not explained?’
As if the sunlight through the screen had suddenly lost its warmth, Mara sighed. ‘Only the roots of our current strife: the death of my father and brother.’
A li bird chirped, muffled, from the adjoining chamber. ‘Please cover the cages,’ Hoppara instructed a servant. He looked at his guest, if I may?’ At Mara’s nod, he turned, troubled, to Kevin. ‘The Minwanabi are . . . strange. Inappropriate though it may be to pass judgment upon another noble family whose behaviour remains honourable in public, there is something in the Minwanabi nature that makes them . . . more than merely dangerous.’
Kevin returned a look of flat confusion. ‘Any mighty house is dangerous. And to my view, the Game of the Council is just treachery with protocols.’
If Hoppara was shocked by the slave’s outspokenness, he masked it well. Patiently he sought to elaborate. ‘You are here more because of Lady Mara’s potential to be a threat than her not inconsequential charm.’ He bowed slightly as he said this. ‘But the Minwanabi are more than dangerous. . . . They are —’
Mara interrupted. ‘They are insane.’
Hoppara held up his hand. ‘That is harsh. Understandable, in your case, but still harsh.’ To Kevin he added, ‘Let us say they have taste,s that are considered unwholesome by many.’
Kevin grinned, his eyes very innocent and blue. ‘You mean they’re bent.’
Hoppara said, ‘Bent?’ Then he laughed, ‘I like that. Yes, they are bent.’
‘The Minwanabi enjoy pain.’ Mara’s gaze fixed on some inward image less pleasant than Isashani’s lavender sitting room. ‘Sometimes their own, always others’. They kill for pleasure, slowly. Past Minwanabi lords are known to have hunted captives like wild animals. They have tortured prisoners and hired poets to compose verse in praise of their victims’ agonies. Some have a sickness in them, becoming . . . aroused at the sight and smell of blood.’
Hoppara waved for servants to remove the dishes and bring wine. ‘Some Minwanabi hide it better than others, but they all have this . . . bent appetite for suffering. Sooner or later it emerges. Jingu was obvious in his vices. Several of his concubines were murdered in his bed, and his first wife was strangled while he took her, rumour claims. Desio was held to be less violent, but even the street beggars know he beat his slave girls. Did you never wonder, with all the Minwanabi wealth and power, why noble Lords were not anxious to petition a marriage for their daughters?’ He let the question go unanswered. ‘Tasaio is . . . more guarded. I’ve served with him in the field and seen him raping captive women like a common soldier. He also makes rounds through the healers’ tent, lingering there not to bring comfort to his wounded soldiers but to savour their pain.’
His attention returning to the crystal as his servant poured the wine, Hoppara repressed a grimace. ‘Tasaio is not a man I would wish to see upon the Warlord’s throne.’
‘He is very bent,’ observed Kevin.
‘And very dangerous,’ Hoppara summed up. He lifted his wine, waited for Mara to taste her own, then drained his goblet xfreely. ‘This is why I must either covertly block Tasaio’s bid for the white and gold, or openly support him, gaining his favour.’
Mara set down her glass, her eyes veiled by lowered lashes as she weighed available options. ‘So, you ask that I contrive a way for you to support someone else, a candidate who would not stand at odds with your covert alliance with the Acoma, lest the wrath of the Minwanabi be brought down upon House Xacatecas.’
Hoppara nodded in obvious relief. ‘That would be the preferable choice.’
Mara rose and waved the young man back as he moved to get to his feet. ‘Your father was never formal with me in private, and I prefer to keep the custom.’ As Lujan assembled her honour guard by the outer doorway, she guardedly said, ‘I will consult with my advisers and keep you apprised, Lord Hoppara. But understand that should I be able to save you and protect your house, you will be required to support me in another matter.’
The boy nodded, silent, and motioned his hovering servants not to pour more wine.