Mara bowed slightly and departed toward the door.
Kevin lingered behind, his eyes on the pretty garden courtyard. The wall and the Emperor’s barracks were set back a good fifty yards from the screen. Mara’s Force Commander had not relaxed one instant throughout the hour’s discussion. ‘One piece of free advice,’ Kevin said to the Lord of the Xacatecas. ‘Double your guards, and start turning this apartment into a fortress. Three or four Lords have been murdered in their beds already, and unless Imperial Whites have wings, they won’t get over that back wall in any kind of time to help you.’
As Kevin hurried to overtake Mara and her warriors at the doorway, the young Lord of the Xacatecas called his Force Commander to attend him. The Acoma party left the apartment, while Hoppara’s voice rose in steel-voiced command that could have been an echo of Chipino’s. ‘I don’t care if there’s nothing to use but purple pillows and birdcages! Just seal these godsforsaken windows and barricade every screen. That barbarian’s ideas saved my father’s life once in Tsubar, and I have a mind to heed his warning!’
A servant, embarrassed by this outburst, hurried the outer door closed, and Mara smiled at her Midkemian slave. ‘Hoppara is a very likeable young man. I hope he survives to assume his family mantle.’
‘I hope we all survive,’ Kevin said sourly as a companionable shove from Lujan jostled him into place. ‘This jockeying to choose a new Warlord definitely gives me a stomachache.’
18 – Bloody Swords
The council ended.
Long shadows streaked the courtyard between concourses as Mara and her retinue chose an alternative route back to her apartment. Though the meeting itself had gone quietly, the charged air of tension left even the strongest Lords cautious. Tecuma of the Anasati had not objected to Mara’s suggestion that they join their honour guards together for their return to their quarters. With Clan Ionani vaulted into unanticipated prominence, whether he wished it or not, the young Lord of the Tonmargu was seen as being in contention for the white and gold, and Tecuma was vital for any support the Ionani wished to give their favourite son. Any who wished to throw the Ionani into disarray could not find a quicker means than killing Tecuma of the Anasati.
Times were uncertain for all. Tecuma gave no nod of farewell as he and his warriors branched off to his red-painted entry. He gave no sign that Mara had been with him at all, lest the wrong eyes see and presume a warmer relation between his house and the Acoma.
Bone-tired, Mara marched on to her apartment. After Xacatecas’ airy sitting room, and the enormous, vaulted Council Hall, the inside of her own quarters seemed stuffy and cramped. Mara settled wearily in the central chamber and was immediately approached by Jican, who offered a note left by Arakasi.
Mara broke the seal and read. An immediate frown creased her face. ‘Tell Lujan to keep his armour on,’ she called, then sent a servant for her pens and writing desk.
Kevin settled resignedly into his accustomed corner. He watched his mistress write two hasty messages. She handed them to her Force Commander for delivery with quick last-minute instructions. ‘Tell the Lords in question that we have no further details. If they feel unable to protect themselves, have them join us straight away.’
‘What was that?’ Kevin asked over the rattle of men donning armour as Lujan selected an escort from the ranks of off-duty warriors.
Mara passed her soiled nib to a servant and sighed. ‘One of Arakasi’s agents overheard a band of men who were hiding in the imperial gardens. One of them carelessly mentioned names and revealed that they were sent to attack the suites of two Lords who happen to be Inrodaka’s enemies. Since any who hinder that faction are potential allies to our cause, I deemed it wise to send warning.’ She tapped her chin with the note, ‘I suspect this means that Inrodaka and his gang will support Tasaio.’
The single maid in residence entered. At a nod from her mistress, she began to unpin Mara’s elaborately high-piled hair and remove her necklaces of carved jade and amber. The Lady endured with closed eyes, ‘I just wish we had some clear indication of our own danger.’
Kevin loosened his Tsurani-style slave robe and, from a pocket that by rights should not have been there, removed what looked like a meat knife. He turned the blade toward the lamp, inspecting the edge for flaws, saying, ‘We’re ready. Should it matter when they come?’
Mara opened her eyes. ‘Did you steal that from the pantry? It is death for you to have a weapon.’