The Keeper of the Imperial Seal crunched the last of his candy, looking anxious. He waved, as if Arakasi were of little more consequence than a slave.
The Spy Master reached into a pocket in his smock and withdrew a document. He slipped the ribbon, unrolled the scroll with brisk industry, and read a passage copied from a book, which held that the Keeper of the Imperial Seal could use his discretion and assign those dispositions concerning trade and guild rights, and authorize limited collection of minor taxes upon goods or services that were deemed too small to bother the Imperial Council with.
‘Well.’ The huge man rearranged himself and began unwrapping another keljir sweet. ‘The matter you ask for is certainly a petty one, of no merit for discussion by the council.’ He paused and turned the candy over and over between his fingers as if he expected to find insects. ‘But, if I may guess, no man in my position has initiated any sort of private dispensation for hundreds of generations.’
‘Exalted sir,’ Arakasi ventured, ‘I point out that the law has not changed.’ He bowed again and backstepped to stand beside Kevin, a clear hint that he expected to collect his writing utensils and commence setting up a document.
‘What’s she asking for?’ Kevin questioned, as softly as he could.
‘Shh!’ Arakasi gestured for the slave to be silent, while Mara added another point in favour of her argument, and the official across from her became distinctly more flummoxed.
Kevin observed, and deduced that the Keeper of the Imperial Seal was a bureaucrat with a sanctimonious devotion to order. With the obstinacy typical of his kind in every country, he was going to refuse Mara’s request, not because her demand was unreasonable, but because it was unusual and outside the method of paper work and filing he was bound by habit to follow. Arakasi seemed to sense an imminent rejection also, because his pose grew quietly more taut.
Kevin stared at the floor and feigned unconcern. But in a low whisper to Arakasi he said, ‘Why don’t you suggest that Mara try a bribe?’
The Spy Master twitched no muscle, his sole evidence of surprise the interval before his response. ‘Brilliant!’ he whispered back. ‘Is that what your people do with reluctant officials in Midkemia?’
Kevin returned a barely perceptible nod, and one corner of his mouth turned up. ‘Usually it works. Besides, I’d bet Mara’s jewels that’s what he’s waiting for.’
But Arakasi had already moved forward to tap his Lady discreetly on the arm. He spoke into her ear, swiftly, before the Keeper of the Imperial Seal could finish his snack and end deliberation.
Mara was gifted with the knack for thinking on her feet. As the fat man across the lap desk from her drew a ponderous breath to frame his answer, she interrupted.
‘Exalted sir, I realize such a request would require effort on your part, to ensure that you were acting within the dictates of your office. And as you are under no obligation to do so simply because I ask, I would be pleased to recompense your time and industry, say, a hundred centuries of metal and three thumb-size emeralds, if you would undertake the needed inquiry to resolve the issue properly.’
The Keeper of the Imperial Seal swallowed his keljir ball whole. His eyes bulged out. ‘Lady, you are too generous.’
He did not belabour the issue; after all, her request was ludicrously useless. He had even most honourably emphasized that the rift connecting Midkemia to Kelewan was closed. But if Mara wished to be eccentric, the Emperor and the High Council certainly should not be bothered to consider such a worthless point of trade. Transparently content with his reasoning, and already greedy for his gift, the official motioned to Arakasi. ‘My duty requires I research such tasks, but I shall be happy to take your gifts and . . . I pass them along to the temples as devotion.’ He smiled. ‘Now that I’ve had a moment to ponder, I am certain your interpretation is the correct one. Fetch your pens and parchments. We shall draw up the agreement directly.’