That brought a curse from the Spy Master. The last thing a man in his profession might desire was a distinguishing feature to mark him.
Lujan turned next to the arm. ‘My Lady,’ he said gently, ‘you might do better in the next room, but leave me Kevin and one of the warriors who wins at arm wrestling.’
Arakasi murmured a protest, then said clearly, ‘Just Kevin.’
The Spy Master looked paler when Mara was allowed to return. Beneath clipped hair and a fresh dressing, his face was running sweat. Yet he had made no outcry when Lujan had set his arm. Kevin’s comment as he returned to his accustomed corner was ‘Your Spy Master’s tough as old sandal leather.’
Mara waited patiently while her Force Commander finished with splint and bandages. Once Arakasi was arranged with his arm settled on pillows, she sent a servant to bring wine. ‘Don’t speak until you are ready.’
Arakasi looked back in impatience. ‘I’m ready not to be fussed over.’ He nodded his thanks as Lujan stood to depart, then turned dark eyes to his Lady, all business. ‘At least three more Lords were murdered or injured. Several others withdrew from the palace and fled to their town houses or back to their estates. I have a list.’ He shifted awkwardly and produced a paper from his robe.
The servant arrived with the wine. Despite his insistence on abstinence, Arakasi accepted a glass. He drank while his mistress scanned his hasty notes, and a little colour returned to his face.
‘The dead are all supporters of Tasaio and Lord Keda,’ Mara summed up. ‘You think the killers are being underwritten by either the Ionani or the Omechan faction?’
Arakasi sighed deeply and set down his glass. ‘Perhaps not. Axantucar of the Oaxatucan also suffered an attack.’
Mara heard this without surprise, for he had strong rivals within his own faction. ‘How did he fare?’
‘Well enough.’ Eyes closed, the Spy Master forced himself to relax. With his head tipped back against the wall, he added, ‘All the attackers died, which is surprising. They were tong.’
But Axantucar was always a competent fighter; he, too, had managed armies on the barbarian world. Mara observed her Spy Master and noted that tension had not quite left him. ‘You know more.’
‘I wish that I did not, mistress.’ Arakasi opened eyes that shone too bleak. ‘A delegation of Lords went to the imperial barracks and presented the Commander of the Emperor’s garrison with a demand. They wished three companies of Imperial Whites to guard the Council Hall. The Commander refused. Since the Light of Heaven has called no official council, the halls are not his responsibility. The duty appointed him was to protect the Imperial Family, and he would send no soldiers away from their post unless his Emperor saw fit to give orders.’
Mara tapped her wineglass in a fever of suppressed irritation. ‘When will the Emperor return?’
‘Noon tomorrow, by all reports.’
Mara sighed. ‘Then we have no choice but to endure. Order will be restored when the Emperor steps into the palace.’
Kevin raised his eyebrows. ‘His presence alone will do that?’
Dryly, Arakasi corrected, ‘The five thousand soldiers he brings with him will do that.’ He went on to add, ‘The great Lords have made their case adamantly. Also the Chief Priests of the Twenty Orders adjourned late last night and proclaimed that the betrayal on Midkemia was evidence of divine anger. Tsurani tradition has been broken, they say, and the Light of Heaven strayed from spiritual to mundane concerns. If Ichindar had the support of the temples, he might command still, but at this point he must relent and allow the council to name a new Warlord.’
‘Then the matter must be settled by noon,’ observed Mara. The reasons were all too clear. Enough misfortune had occurred since the Emperor set his hand in the game. The High Council Lords had shown they would not be displaced. A new Warlord would greet Ichindar upon his return to the palace.
‘Tonight,’ said Arakasi quietly, ‘this building will become a battlefield.’
Kevin yawned. ‘Will we get any sleep before then?’
‘This morning only,’ Mara allowed. ‘We must be at council this afternoon. Today’s meetings will largely decide who lives through tonight. And tomorrow, whoever survives will appoint the new Warlord of Tsuranuanni.’
As Arakasi gathered himself to rise from his pillows, Mara waved him back. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘You will stay and rest for the day.’