‘You may sit,’ she allowed as the courier completed his bow. He carried no documents; the message he brought would be oral, guaranteed by his life oath of silence. Mara waved for a servant to bring jomach juice, in case the man’s throat was dry from travel.
He inclined his head when the refreshment arrived and gratefully took a long swallow, ‘I bring greeting to the Acoma from the Lord Xaltepo of the Hanqu.’ The messenger paused for another sip, politely allowing the Lady an interval to call to mind what she knew of this Lord’s house, clan, and political affiliations.
Mara needed the time, since the Hanqu were a minor house that had never previously dealt with the Acoma; they were of the Nimboni, a clan so tiny that it regularly associated with other, larger clans; which other clans it was allied with at present Mara didn’t recall. Arakasi would know. He might also confirm whether Xaltepo had renewed his participation in the Yellow Flower Party since the demise of the Alliance for War. The Yellow Flower Party had no ties with the Minwanabi, but had occasionally supported common interests with them before Almecho wore the white and gold, and the changes effected by his successor, Axantucar, had disrupted the old alliances. The Yellow Flower Party currently fended for itself, and the Nimboni quite likely inclined to favour the Kanazawai Clan. Perhaps this was an overture in that direction.
Mara sighed over this season’s unrecognizable snarl of politics. Without Arakasi’s network, she would be floundering, relying upon guesswork, and not leading her clan decisively through the moil.
The messenger finished his drink and politely awaited her attention. At a wave from Mara, he resumed.
‘The Lord of the Hanqu formally requests that you consider an alliance with his house. If you judge the matter to be in Acoma interests, Lord Xaltepo asks for a meeting to discuss his proposal.’
A house slave unobtrusively removed the emptied juice cup. Mara used the interval to formulate a swift decision. ‘I am flattered by the offer from the Lord of the Hanqu, and will reply through one of my own couriers.’
This was politely noncommittal, and not unusual, since a ruler near Sulan-Qu would be unfamiliar with the guild of another city. Conscious of security, Mara intended to hire from a known guild. But to dismiss this courier without thanks was to insinuate mistrust, if not to imply dishonour. The Lady sent her runner to summon Saric. By now familiar with the duties of a second adviser, he would accompany the guild messenger to a distant chamber and see him occupied with banalities until the heat passed, and the man could politely be dismissed.
Financial reports no longer gripped Mara’s attention. Throughout the morning she pondered the Hanqu’s unexpected overture without assuming what their motive might be. Lord Xaltepo might earnestly desire an alliance, and this must not be treated lightly. Since Mara’s public rise to the office of Clan Warchief, it could be but the first of many such approaches. To ignore this would be folly.
Far more dangerous, he might be puppet for some other, better-known enemy, who used him to disguise another plot against her. She waited until the courier’s departure before dispatching Arakasi to make inquiries.
After supper, she called council. Weary of the stifling stillness of her study with screens and drapes drawn closed, she decided that a meeting in the garden courtyard adjacent to her quarters, under the light of lanterns, would be more comfortable. The garden had a single entrance, securely guarded.
Settled on cushions under the tree beside the fountain, Mara regretted her preoccupation with security. For an envious moment she once again recalled Tasaio’s estate, a beautiful building on spacious grounds, fortified by steep hills and the naturally defensible valley with its lake and narrow tributary. Unlike other nobles situated in the low country, the Minwanabi Lord need not vigilantly keep guard over broad acres of borders. He required only sentries in watchtowers on his hilltops, and patrols stationed at key points along the perimeter of his estates. Where the Acoma required five full companies of a hundred warriors each dedicated to the main estate to optimally maintain its defences — a goal still unrealized after over a decade of carefully building her resources – the Minwanabi could do better with as few as two hundred soldiers guarding twice the land. That lower cost of security for the home estate provided Tasaio with resources for political mischief that Mara lacked, despite her rapidly expanding financial empire.