Servant of the Empire

Mara heard Kevin murmur, ‘Now show them the stick.’

 

 

She had to struggle not to laugh. The Lord of the Chekowara exhibited a confidence that in another moment was going to make him seem regrettably pompous. Choosing her tone carefully, Mara said, ‘My Lord, understand this: when I leave this hall, I shall know those who number among my friends, and those who stand apart.’ She directed a meaningful glance around the hall and tempered her lines with restrained patience. ‘I have proven myself a dozen times over since becoming Ruling Lady.’

 

A thoughtful pause made the most of general murmurs of agreement from the galleries. Mara resumed. ‘Those who doubt me may stand aside and face whatever comes to them, firm in the knowledge they can rely upon their own wit and resources. Those who accept my call for clan unity and cast their lot with mine shall have the Acoma beside them to face whatever dangers may arise. For, my Lords, if anyone believes the Great Game can be ended because the Light of Heaven so commands, let that man remove himself from power and seek out a temple to pray for mercy. For that man is a fool, and only by the gods’ indulgence will he and his family survive the days to come.

 

‘I offer a better choice,’ she cried in the loudest voice she had employed so far. ‘You may continue as you have done, a small clan, empty of promise, or you may rekindle the fire that our ancestors once used to light their way. Tasaio of the Minwanabi will fall or I will fall. If I fail’ – she looked directly at Lord Chekowara – ‘do you think Tasaio will not plunge our Empire into civil war? What family is strong enough to stop him, with the Omechan in disgrace?’ She sat back and quietened her tone, so that all in the galleries had to lean forward to attend her. ‘But if I succeed, then one of the Five Great Families will vanish. Another family must rise to fill that seat. Most would assume the Anasati would claim the honour, or perhaps the Shinzawai. This is yet to be written. I say the prize might also fall to the Acoma. The clan of the ascendant family will rise in standing, and those who are kinsmen of that Ruling Lord will number among the mighty’ — she waved the document —’and the wealthy.’

 

The old Lord of the Jinguai had not moved from his seat throughout the entire proceedings, but now he stood. His back might be stooped with age, but his tones were firm as he called, ‘Mara! I name Mara of the Acoma my Warchief!’

 

Another Lord joined his call, followed by a chorus of others from the upper galleries. Suddenly many were shouting, and in consternation, Lord Benshai of the Chekowara realized that the majority of the clan were upon their feet hailing Mara. At last, as the commotion began to subside, the Lady of the Acoma regarded the former Warchief. ‘Benshai, surrender the staff.’

 

The Lord of the Chekowara looked sour. He hesitated an almost imprudent interval, then held out the short wooden staff with ceremonial carvings that marked the rank of Warchief. As Mara accepted the token of office, he gave a shallow, stiff bow and backed to the first seat next to the dais, the position reserved for the second most powerful Lord in the clan. Others reorganized themselves accordingly down to the chair that had formerly been Mara’s, while those of lesser rank remained undisturbed.

 

With clan order readjusted, Mara waved a hand to indicate the gathering. ‘All of you shall be counted loyal and faithful friends. From this moment forward, let it be known that the Hadama is again a clan in both name and deed. For, kinsmen, trying times are coming, days to make the Night of the Bloody Swords seem a mild disturbance unless we undertake plans to prevent such a pass.

 

‘I call upon Clan Honour!’ With those formal words a shock ran through the room. Lords exclaimed aloud in surprise and consternation, for by her choice of phrasing, Mara proclaimed beyond recall that whatever came next impacted upon not only the honour of the Acoma, but that of the entire clan. No Lord would dare such a move in a capricious or trivial .way, for the invocation bound every family within the clan to stand with the Acoma. Should any Warchief embroil clans in conflict, the stability of the Empire could be overturned. The point did not have to be reiterated, that to threaten social continuity would invite intervention by the Great Ones. More than the wrath of the Emperor, or even the vengeance of the gods, the Tsurani feared the Assembly of Magicians, those whose words were as law.

 

Yet Mara allayed the worst fear, that she might use a Call to Clan Honour for her own ends. ‘The first duty of Clan Hadama is to serve the Empire!’

 

In a flurry of relief, all in the room cried out, ‘Yes! To serve the Empire!’

 

Raymond E. Feist & Janny Wurts's books