‘I tell you this: all that I undertake from this day forward is not for the glory of the Acoma, but to serve the Empire. You, my brave and loyal kinsmen, have cast your lot with mine. Know by my word that no matter what may come, I act for the good of all.’
Like a change in tide, the undercurrent of conversation faltered. Mara placed Clan Hadama under a dreadful burden, for with those ritual words, ‘good of the Empire’, she committed her clan to a course that could end only in victory or in utter destruction.
Yet before the mutters could swell into cohesive protest, Mara swept on. ‘From this day, all party affiliations outside the clan are ended, save those with the Blue Wheel and Jade Eye.’ Several Lords nodded in approval, while others, whose political interests lay elsewhere, scowled their displeasure. Yet no one spoke out. ‘All ties with factions outside the clan must be made known to me,’ Mara demanded, ‘I shall not force any of you to act dishonourably or forget vows, but in the days to come, some of us will find that former friends become the most bitter of foes.’ She took a deep breath, as if waiting for a challenge.
‘Look around this room, my Lords. These are your family, upon whom you may depend. The ancient ties of blood have today been renewed. Any man, no matter how highly placed, who raises a hand against even the least of my kinsmen raises his hand against me. Our clan heritage has fallen to disunity for generations. No more. For whosoever strikes at my kinsman strikes at me. My army has been divided, my Lords, and fully one half of my warriors under a newly promoted Force Leader stand ready to answer should you call.’ She let that sink in, then added, ‘And when the coming dark days have passed, it is my intention to meet again in this room, and to see no absent faces among us. For as a mother shatra bird brings food to her young and spreads her wings to shelter them, so shall I be to you, one who feeds her family and protects them.’
Most of the Lords in the hall stood at this, and the ones least in rank and strength cheered in appreciation of Mara’s vow. Even the most powerful who had been displaced were forced to look upon their new Warchief with respect. And if the Lord of the Chekowara’s dark face held other than admiration for the woman who had replaced his primacy in the clan, he hid his sour feelings as he stood and applauded her brave words.
Only Kevin observed with a man’s perception, and he did not miss the flash of bitterness in Lord Benshai’s eyes. Although the Midkemian himself felt warmed that his Lady had dared to turn his influence upon her thinking into public policy, he wondered with concern whether she had yet again won many new allies at the price of creating another mortal foe.
The Keeper of the Imperial Seal paused with a keljir candy halfway raised to his mouth. Caught at a loss, he visibly sagged when he saw who called upon him. He shoved his bulk from his cushions with a suppressed grunt of effort and adjusted his robes around his girth. ‘My Lady of the Acoma. What a . . . surprise.’
Glancing at the apologetic servant who stood behind Mara, the Keeper understood that Mara and her not inconsiderable entourage had simply swept past the usual maze of servants, depriving the Keeper of the news an important visitor was approaching.
The candy was suddenly an embarrassment. The Keeper of the Imperial Seal dropped it hastily back into the bowl, though it was unwrapped already and beginning to melt in the heat. He wiped his sticky palm on his sash, since the robe he was wearing had inconveniently short sleeves. Then he extended his palm to his visitor.
Mara took the proffered hand and let the man lead her to a seat before his writing desk. As the official stowed his bulk on his cushions, he wheezed, ‘Are you well?’
‘I am well, my Lord Keeper,’ she replied with the faintest hint of deference.
‘Word holds that you’ve risen to primacy in your clan.’ The Keeper of the Imperial Seal wasted no time retrieving his sweet. ‘Much honour to you, I think.’
Mara inclined her head as if accepting a compliment.
Around a softening mouthful of candy, the official said, ‘To what do I owe the honour of this visit?’
‘I think you know, Webara.’ By the shift to first-name usage, Mara indicated her demand that she be treated with all honour due her rise in station. She removed a roll of parchment from her sleeve. ‘I hold a warrant under Imperial Seal for trading concessions and now I require my claim to be made public’
Webara forced a friendly smile and shrugged. ‘Mara, you may do anything you wish.’ His reciprocal use of her first name showed that he claimed still to hold position in power equal to hers. ‘You may employ runners of the Commercial Guild of Messengers to carry word of your exclusive trading rights to the far corners of the Empire, for all it matters.’