Then the Midkemian relaxed with a self-deprecating chuckle. ‘Gods, man, you gave me a fright.’
Arakasi stepped in from the rain, a heavy black robe slapping around his calves. His sandals were sodden, and slicked with bits of grass, which meant he had come in by way of the needra pastures.
Mara subsided in relief. ‘You took long enough to get here.’
The Spy Master bowed, a silvery fringe of droplets falling off his hood and running down his aquiline nose. ‘Mistress, I was very far afield when your recall reached me.’
Mara clapped for her maid. ‘Towels,’ she demanded. ‘And a dry robe, at once.’ She motioned for her Spy Master to sit and help himself to a cup of chocha from the tray at her side.
Arakasi poured himself a steaming drink, then bent a keen gaze on his mistress. ‘Lady, I ask that you not tell anyone I am back. I slipped past your guards and took pains not to be seen.’
Which explained the pasture grass caught in his sandals, but not the reason behind it. When Arakasi did not elaborate on his own initiative, Mara was forced to make inquiry.
Her Spy Master twisted the fine porcelain cup in his hands in uncharacteristic agitation. He frowned, thought, and ignored the towels and dry clothing left for him by the maid. Still in his black, and still dripping, he said, ‘My informants . . . Something may be amiss. The possibility exists that we’ve been compromised.’
Mara raised her eyebrows and with unerring intuition, tracked his thought to a long-past event. ‘The ambush set for Keyoke?’
Arakasi nodded, ‘I think the late Lord Desio let our man escape at the time, to lull me into believing our other agents in the Minwanabi household were undetected. If so, then the promotion of one of my men to Tasaio’s personal service . . .’
‘Is suspect?’ Mara finished as his words trailed off. She waved her hand in dismissal. ‘Deal with that problem as you wish. If you think a Minwanabi spy may have insinuated himself upon my lands, dig him out. At this moment, I wish to know what actually happened in Kentosani.’
Arakasi sipped at his chocha. For an interval he seemed reluctant to leave the subject of a possible breach in his network, but as Kevin had settled back in his corner, and as Mara seemed rarely out of patience, the Spy Master turned to the requested subject. ‘Much occurred, but little was public’ Arakasi put down his cup so softly the china made no sound. ‘I lost an agent in the fighting.’
Mara did not know the man who had died, and never would, but he was an Acoma servant. She bowed her head in respect, as she might at the word that one of her warriors had lost his life in her service.
Arakasi shrugged with none of his usual lightness. ‘The man was simply at the wrong place when the fighting started. He was killed by a stray arrow, but the loss was regrettable. Candidates for posts in the Imperial Palace are carefully screened, and he will be very difficult to replace.’
The Spy Master was taking the loss personally, Mara realized, and despite her wish that he would address the matter directly, his lapse was unusual enough that she waited for him to resume of his own accord.
Arakasi tucked folded hands under the cuffs of his robe and seemed to come back to himself. Briskly he said, ‘In any event, the magician Milamber, though banished from the ranks of the Great Ones, has returned by way of a rift.’
‘Where is this rift?’ Kevin interjected, suddenly not half so sleepy as he appeared.
Mara frowned at him, but it was Arakasi’s look of withering scorn that caused the Midkemian to fall silent, ‘I do not know yet,’ the Spy Master conceded pointedly to his mistress. ‘Milamber was taken captive in the city of Ontoset, by two magicians who served Axantucar. He, two companions from his homeworld, and another Great One were taken under guard to the Imperial Palace.’
Mara interrupted. ‘The Warlord took a Great One prisoner?’
‘It could be argued that the two Great Ones restrained one of their fellows,’ Arakasi corrected dryly. ‘About the Warlord little is known, though speculation abounds. At a guess, Axantucar was not content to wear the white and gold. He may have been harbouring greater ambitions.’
‘Murder the Emperor?’ Mara cut in. ‘There were rumours that someone tried poison.’
‘Half of such hearsay is true.’ Arakasi tapped his fingers, and water puddled from his sleeves onto the polished wood floor, ichindar gave that reason for the execution. And since one of Axantucar’s pet Great Ones turned in his loyalties and brought testimony, who can doubt the truth of the issue?’
Mara’s eyes opened at that. ‘A Great One denounced him?’