Mara extended her fan through the curtains and tapped his wrist in reproof. ‘Were you a free man, I would be obliged to challenge that statement. To accuse me of lying is to insult Acoma honour.’
Kevin caught the fan, playfully disarmed her, and returned the item with an exaggerated flourish, in imitation of a Tsurani suitor of a lesser house paying court to a Lady of higher station. ‘You didn’t lie exactly,’ he admitted, and grinned as Mara smothered a laugh at his clowning behind her now opened fan. He paused a step, reminded of how dear she was to him; then he doggedly pursued the subject. ‘You just didn’t tell what’s on your mind.’
The litter bearers turned a corner and swerved to avoid a stray dog being chased by street urchins. They were after the bone it had stolen, and were moving too fast and chaotically for her soldiers to change their course. As always, Kevin noticed their poor clothes and evidence of sores and sickness upon them, and felt sad. He only half heard Mara’s explanation: Lord Kuganchalt was an important if minor ally of the Lord of the Ekamchi and the Lord of the Inrodaka. Those two held sway in a small faction allied firmly against her since her winning of the cho-ja Queen from a hive near Inrodaka lands. She allowed that a contact with the Ginecho would at least give her an opportunity to explain her side of the dispute, perhaps even to drive a wedge between the Ginecho and the two disaffected Lords.
‘House Ginecho took heavy losses with Almecho’s fall,’ Mara qualified. ‘They were heavily indebted to the Omechan, and the Warlord’s two disgraces caused the debts all to come due much earlier than the old Lord of the Ginecho could have expected. He died, it is said, of the strain, though others whisper suicide. Still others claim poison was set in his dish by an enemy. Whatever the reason, his young son, Kuganchalt, has inherited his mantle, along with a heavy financial burden. I judge this an auspicious time for an overture.’
Kevin’s lips thinned in annoyance. She said this though she knew he had been present when Arakasi allowed that Kuganchalt’s court was riddled through with cousins who were Ekamchi and Inrodaka loyalists, a few of whom probably had orders to commit murder should the inexperienced boy act in any way to the detriment of his two allies. Kevin had commented that a few might be motivated to speed the young Lord along to the halls of the Red God without any urging from Mara’s two enemies. Nacoya warned Mara that entering Kuganchalt’s town house would be stepping into a nest of swamp relli; Mara, she berated, was deaf to good advice when larger issues were on her mind.
As litter and bearers rounded another corner, and sunlight fell through the curtains, Kevin became aware that the Lady was looking at him. Too often he had the feeling she could read his thoughts from his face, and this was one such time. ‘The Ginecho would expect us to try to rearrange their alliance,’ she pointed out with mischievous gentleness. ‘Ekamchi went to such trouble to buy the loyalty of so many members of Kuganchalt’s family, and Inrodaka underwrote most of the expense. They would all be terribly disappointed if the Acoma failed to put in an appearance. We will go, and give them what they want, which is belief in their own self-importance. Inrodaka and Ekamchi must always be led to believe that their enmity is of some consequence. It keeps them from allying with my other enemies.
‘Gods help us if they discover the truth: that the Acoma have gained enough standing that their minor plotting has no impact; then they might brew worse mischief than they do already, just to attract attention, or do something really destructive, such as throwing their support to Tasaio.’
Kevin snorted out a laugh. ‘You mean you’re going to pat the little guy with a grudge on the head, just to keep him from getting really irate, in case he thinks you’ve forgotten he’s got bones to pick, so he doesn’t get nasty and go out and find a bigger bone to pick?’
‘Inelegantly spoken,’ Mara said. ‘But yes.’
Kevin swore in Midkemian.
Somewhat nettled, Mara twitched the curtains back. ‘That’s rude. Now what do you mean?’
Her barbarian lover gave her a long look and shrugged. ‘In polite language, your Great Game of the Council ingests water from an infested swamp. One could say it quite often borders on the absurd.’
‘I was afraid you were going to say that.’ Mara leaned an elbow on her cushions and gazed at one of the huge stone temples that bordered both sides of the avenue.