The clerk blinked, always more comfortable with figures than conversation. ‘A spy?’
‘Or several.’ Warmed to his favourite subject, Chumaka shook a demonstrative ringer. ‘But in any event, we know that I was not the only one to insinuate an agent into the House of Minwanabi.’ Even now that memory was sour, for the talented courtesan sent to Jingu had ultimately become unreliable. Of course, her instability had proven a major factor in Lord Jingu’s demise — a good outcome, from Chumaka’s point of view. Unlike his master, who harboured ill will toward Mara, Chumaka viewed the Great Game as simply a game, more complex and less predictable than most; and right now the opponent to be wary of was the Lord of the Minwanabi. Unlike his predecessors, Tasaio not only had the power of a mighty house, but the wit and talent to use it. He was the most dangerous man in the Empire, particularly since Axantucar had bested him in the contest for the white and gold. For without the duties of Warlord to distract him, Tasaio could turn his full attention toward the game.
Picking up writing brush and parchment, Chumaka began a line in his elegant style, the characters long and fluid and precise as ones penned by a professional scribe. He mused as he worked, ‘We face a player of unusual talents, two actually, for our Master burns to humble Mara of the Acoma as well as Tasaio of the Minwanabi. We must be quick to seize whatever opportunity comes our way. I shall order our man in Sulan-Qu to keep a close watch upon this factor and see if we can begin to trace the route by which messages reach Lady Mara.’ Chumaka paused and tapped his brush against his chin. ‘I haven’t seen this good an operation at play since Jingu obliterated House Tuscai.’ He ruminated further on the past. ‘Too bad their exceptional spy network failed to save them. . . . I presume all their agents died or became grey warriors. . . .’ Softly he added, ‘A shame such cunning artistry had to turn to dust.’
Chumaka sighed in what might have been envy, then ended his sentence with a flourish. ‘Anyway, our young master has decreed that we play a three-handed game — very well. We shall do so to the limit of our wits. The triumph is so much more satisfying for the difficulty.’
To himself as much as Kavai, Chumaka surmised, ‘It was not because Tecuma was gifted, the gods know, that the Anasati became the most politically well-connected house in the Empire. If Jiro would follow his father’s lead and let me do my work without interference . . .’ He let the thought trail off.
The clerk said nothing. Exposed to this sort of rambling before, he was never entirely sure he understood his supervisor’s odd mutterings. An apprentice was not fit to question a journeyman, much less a master such as Chumaka, even if at times the First Adviser appeared to hold his own Lord in contempt — which of course was impossible. No one with such a wrong-headed attitude could rise to such an exalted place in a great house.
Chumaka finished his missive, then said, ‘Now to write a response to Lady Mara, enough so that she’ll not worry for the time being, but not so much that she’ll count the Anasati as a friend.’ He took a deep breath, then softly, wistfully sighed. ‘Now, that would be a woman to work with, wouldn’t it?’ The clerk left the question unanswered.
The formation of blue-clad warriors reached the entrance to the Acoma estate house. From a distance, Kevin watched as Shinzawai soldiers saluted, then stood at ease while their officer mounted the steps in two easy strides to stand before his hostess. He bowed with irresistible charm. ‘You are gracious to receive us, Lady Mara.’
Kevin felt a twist of black jealousy as Mara warmly smiled in return. ‘Hokanu, you are always welcome.’
The barbarian’s sour expression did not lift as she presented her advisers and councillors to the Shinzawai retinue. A newcomer stood beside Lujan, and Mara introduced him. ‘This is Saric’
Saric looked nothing like his cousin, being more muscular and darker, but there was a familiar wry set to his mouth as he said, ‘My Lord,’ and bowed his head slightly. In manner, he and Lujan were nearly twins.
Sweating, out of sorts, and still disgruntled by the argument he and Mara had shared upon rising that morning, Kevin lingered at a loose end while the Lady led her guest inside and Lujan ordered one of his Patrol Leaders to escort the Shinzawai warriors to quarters set aside for them.