Keyoke managed a slight upward turn to the corner of his mouth, as close as he ever came to smiling. ‘You are that already, Lady.’
Mara regarded him and then Nacoya in turn. The old woman’s eyes were bright from more than fever. She watched Keyoke as if the two of them had a conspiracy. Mara’s confusion crystallized into suspicion that the matter had been extensively discussed without her. ‘Already you have someone in mind, you old war dog.’
‘There is a man,’ Keyoke allowed. ‘A warrior who has a fast sword, but whose performance in the ranks is unsatisfactory because he thinks too much.’
‘He’s an embarrassment to his officers, and he won’t hold his tongue,’ Kevin concluded out loud. ‘Do I know him?’
Keyoke ignored this, steadily regarding Mara. ‘He has served you well, though most of his duties have been among your outer holdings. His cousin -‘
‘Saric,’ Mara interrupted, intrigued despite her unhappiness. ‘Lujan’s cousin? The one with the quick tongue that you sent away because the two of them together —’ She broke off, and smiled. ‘Is it Saric?’
Keyoke cleared his throat. ‘He has a very creative mind.’
‘More than that, my Lady,’ Nacoya added, struggling against a thick voice. ‘The man’s a devil for cleverness. He never forgets a face, or a word spoken in his presence. In ways he puts me in mind of both Lujan and Arakasi.’
Though she had met Saric only briefly, Mara remembered the young man. He had a charm about him, manners that could not be shaken, and a gift for asking embarrassing questions; both were traits to be valued in a future adviser. Thinking fondly of Lujan, and his flexibility in embracing innovation, Mara said, ‘It sounds as though you two have done the interviewing for me. I yield to your better wisdom.’
She held up her hand, ending discussion on the matter. ‘Send for Saric, and begin his training as you see fit.’ She moved to rise, and belatedly recalled the parchment in her hands. ‘I must draft a letter to Jiro.’ She turned in appeal to Kevin. ‘Will you help?’
The Midkemian rolled his eyes. ‘I’d sooner toy with a relli,’ he admitted, but fell into step as his mistress left the room. Keyoke lingered a moment to wish Nacoya a speedy recovery; his courtesy was returned with imprecations. As Mara, Kevin, and the Acoma Adviser for War beat their retreat down the hallway, the sound of the old woman’s coughing followed them.
Chumaka, First Adviser to Lord Jiro of the Anasati, finished the message. Rings of polished shell flashed on short fingers as he rolled up the scroll and regarded his young master with dispassionate eyes.
Seated in comfort in the great hall of the Anasati, Jiro stared into space. Fine hands drummed on the floor beside his cushion, and the sound echoed faintly through the traditional room of parchment-covered doors and beamed ceilings, age-dark and waxed to a patina reflected in the parquet floors. On the walls hung a collection of sun-faded war banners, many of them prizes of vanquished enemies, and at length the new Lord’s gaze seemed to focus on these. He raised what seemed a disinterested question. ‘What is your opinion?’
‘As strange as it is, my Lord, I judge the message sincere.’ Chumaka made an effort to stay concise. ‘Your father and Lady Mara, while. not friendly, had arrived at mutual respect.’
Jiro’s fingers stilled. ‘Father had the happy capacity for ? seeing things in ways that suited him. He found Mara clever, and that won his admiration – above anyone, you should know that, Chumaka. Those same qualities gave you your position.’
Chumaka bowed, though the master’s tone implied no compliment.
Jiro fingered his embroidered sash, blandly thoughtful. ‘Mara seeks to disarm us. I wonder why?’
Chumaka weighed his master’s intonation carefully, if one were to view the matter in an objective fashion, Lord, one might consider this: Mara feels that there is no real cause for conflict between your house and hers. She implies there may be cause for mutually beneficial negotiations.’