Arakasi paused at this, for Tsurani superstition held against occupying residences or employing the servants of those fallen from power; when a lord or a family lost favour with the gods, his goods, his lands, and his staff were believed to be accursed along with him. Yet Milamber had been a barbarian, no doubt ignorant of such points. And ill luck had dogged him also. Arakasi shrugged Tsurani fashion. ‘But while both Netoha’s masters have fallen upon ill fortune, his cause seems on the rise. Through some distant relation, he was able to claim kinship with the Chichimechas, who needed capital at the time. An arrangement was made. Now Netoha of the Chichimechas is fourth in line for succession to the Ruling Lordship of a tiny house, and he’s in good standing with the Hunzan Clan.’
Mara resisted an urge to rise and pace the flagstone walkway. ‘Clan Hunzan is radical in its thinking. Nothing they do would come as a surprise.’
Arakasi rounded off his report. ‘Little else is common knowledge, save that Netoha’s wife is a former slave.’
Mara raised her eyebrows, diverted from her troubles by interest.
But her Spy Master’s explanation dashed any hope she might hold for Kevin’s benefit. ‘Milamber freed all the slaves upon his estate before leaving Kelewan,’ Arakasi said. ‘As his status had yet to be called into doubt at the time, the act became as law. Even without slaves, Netoha has turned his small holdings to profit. Given his industry, he is a man who will likely continue to rise. He might someday become a powerful Lord.’
Mara seized upon the one point that mattered. ‘Then he could be open to a commercial transaction concerning this rift?’
‘Perhaps.’ Arakasi’s mood stayed guarded. ‘There is something else, mistress. A great deal is not clear to me, beyond the certainty that something vastly beyond the ordinary is in play. The renegade magician’s return has sparked much activity, all of it clandestine. There are disturbed patterns running through imperial circles — high officials in long conferences with scholars sworn to secrecy, and a lot of close-mouthed, nervous correspondence carried back and forth by the Light of Heaven’s personal messengers, none of it written, and all of it bonded by suicide oath, according to court gossip. I shall endeavour to penetrate and discover the heart of this, but as the Assembly is involved . . .’ He shrugged again, to indicate the effort might not bear fruit.
Too concerned for her own difficulties, Mara forwent curiosity over the affairs of Great Ones. She dismissed her Spy Master with uncharacteristic abruptness, then called for a scribe, her intent being to send messages to Lord Netoha and to Fumita of the Assembly, offering generous terms for use of the rift gate into Midkemia.
Once her missives were dispatched by the guild of messengers, Kentosani held little to retain her. Mara opted for a swift return home, as much to avoid inopportune contact with other members of her clan as to assuage a sudden longing to spend time with Ayaki. The boy was growing so fast! He was halfway to becoming a man, she realized; she must speak to Keyoke soon about selecting a warrior to teach him weaponcraft, with his tenth birthday scarcely a half year off.
The return barge trip down the Gagajin passed without incident, but upon arrival at the border of her own estates, Mara’s worry lessened as she felt something of the familiar calm that came from the knowledge of being home. And yet, for the first time in her life, she felt gnawed from within by a sense of something missing. She pondered why as her bearers took her litter up the road to the estate house.
Yet the cause eluded her until the moment she set foot in her own front dooryard and accepted greetings from Lujan, Keyoke, and Nacoya. The house seemed suddenly insignificant. Mara felt a passing sadness that she no longer looked upon the home of her father as the grand and wonderful place it had seemed throughout her childhood. As Ruling Lady and Clan Warchief, she now saw only a spread of land that was difficult to defend, and a dwelling that was comfortably appointed, but lacking the grand presence and state guest suites needful to a ruler of her status. For a moment Mara entertained the bitter thought that her most hated enemy should thrive in a place that was both the most defensible location in the Empire and the most beautiful.
As Mara crossed the threshold, Kevin in his customary place behind her, Nacoya pursued. Nettled that the mistress had returned only perfunctory salutations, the old woman nearly abandoned composure. ‘What has overcome you, Mara? Are you bereft of wits?’
The reprimand stung the Lady out of her thought. She spun to face her adviser, her frown an open warning. ‘What do you mean?’
‘This assumption of the Warchief’s staff.’ Nacoya wagged her finger, much as she had in her days as a children’s nurse. ‘Why didn’t you discuss your intentions before you acted?’
Mara stood firmly, her arms folded. ‘The idea never occurred to me, until I was halfway to Kentosani. When I left, I thought I could convince the clan to do as I asked, but upon the river I had time to think —’
‘I wish you had put the time to better use!’ the Acoma First Adviser cut in.
‘Nacoya!’ Mara’s eyes flashed rage. ‘I will not be scolded like a girl. What do you object to?’
The First Adviser bowed precisely to the correct degree, which meant she was not cowed. In tones near to scorn she said, ‘I beg your pardon, Lady. But since you have compelled Clan Hadama to recognize your primacy, you have also forced public notice that you are now a power to be contended with.’