Sanjana held her hands clasped, but the beadwork on her robe shimmered in the light as she trembled. ‘Yes, Lord,’ she replied, the huskiness in her voice no ploy to seem seductive.
Tasaio said nothing. His face and manner did not change even when Incarna reappeared, half dragging a small boy behind her. He had Tasaio’s auburn hair and his mother’s rosy complexion, and though he did not cry, his mother’s nervousness frightened him. Carried in the concubine’s arms was a second child, a girl not yet old enough to walk such a distance on her own. Too young to understand, she rode with her fingers in her mouth, her pale amber eyes on the gathering of people in the hall.
From his place on the dais, Tasaio looked the children over as a man might inspect merchandise for flaws. Then, almost absently, he motioned to Force Commander Irrilandi. Pointing at Sanjana, he said, ‘Take this woman outside. I will see her die.’
Sanjana’s fist came to her mouth. Her magnificent jade-coloured eyes filled with tears of terror, and her poise failed her. Unable to rise, she remained trembling on her knees until two warriors stepped in and gripped her by the arms. Her efforts to choke back painful sobs echoed over the stillness of the gathering as the men half led, half carried her from the hall.
Alone before the dais, Incarna stood shivering, her hands clenched to her children, and her face sweating with fear. Tasaio regarded her without pity or tenderness and said, ‘I take this woman for my wife, and name these children -what are their names?’
Incarna blinked, then hastily managed to whisper, ‘Dasari and Hani, my Lord.’
‘Dasari is my heir.’ Tasaio’s voice rang out over the gathering and echoed off the vaulted ceiling. ‘Hani is my first daughter.’
Then the stillness broke before a rustle of movement as all in the room bowed to the new Lady of the Minwanabi. Tasaio instructed Incomo, ‘Have servants prepare suitable quarters for the Lady of the Minwanabi and her children.’ To Incarna he said, ‘Wife, retire to your quarters and await my call. Teachers will be sent for the children tomorrow. I would have them begin instruction in their duties to their family. Dasari will someday rule this house.’
The former concubine bowed, her movements still tense with terror. She took no joy from her sudden rise in station, but hurried her son and carried her daughter from the dais, past hundreds of staring strangers.
To his guests, relations, and vassals, Tasaio said, ‘We shall have the wedding ceremony tomorrow. You are all welcome to share the feast.’
At this, Incomo’s long face froze against showing alarm.
A wedding required careful planning, to ensure the most favourable auspices. The timing, the food, the ritual marriage hut – all required the blessings of priests and meticulous attention to tradition. Unions of great Lords were seldom undertaken at short notice, lest details be overlooked and ill luck visit the new couple and carry through the next generation.
Yet Tasaio gave the matter short shrift. With the silvery steel of his ancestral sword set at rest on his shoulder, he said, ‘See to the arrangements, First Adviser.’
Then, the bared blade flashing under the skylight as he turned, he motioned for Incomo to follow and strode from the hall without further speech. Tasaio moved toward the outer door, certain that the two soldiers who were stationed on either side would have it open in time for him to pass through.
As their Lord emerged from the house and stepped into the courtyard, two warriors snapped to attention, the terrified Sanjana between them. She had shaken her hair from its pins, and the length of it fell in waves down her back, rare gold enhanced by the sun. She held her eyes downcast, but at Tasaio’s appearance she looked up entreatingly. The soft white skin over her breasts showed her quick breathing, but her courtesan’s skills did not fail her. Even frightened, even driven by desperation, she still managed to husband the only advantage she possessed. Sanjana parted red lips and arranged her slim body so that no man who beheld her could mistake her for what she was: a magnificent ornament whose sole purpose was pleasure.
The effect was not lost upon Tasaio. His eyes brightened as he followed all of her curves and hollows and drank in the promise of lust that her provocative pose implied. He licked his lips, bent down, and kissed her fully and long. With one hand he caressed her breasts. Then he stepped back and said, ‘I have found you a satisfactory bedmate.’ As hope filled her magnificent eyes, he smiled at her. He savoured the moment, and the sparkle of relief in her expression, as he added, ‘Kill her. Now.’