Her Force Commander touched her again, almost tenderly. ‘It is a pity the man is a slave,’ he commiserated. ‘Such courage deserves only the highest honour.’
The air suddenly hurt to breathe; Mara turned her face into Lujan’s shoulder and shivered. Perhaps she wept, soundless in misery; if she did, the officer who comforted her would never expose her shame. Somehow he understood that her agony did not stem from her narrow escape in the glen alone. And his abiding love and devotion would never permit him to acknowledge his Lady had betrayed herself in a moment of public weakness. The surrounding soldiers quickly found tasks to occupy themselves, allowing Mara her moment of release.
The Lady of the Acoma wept for Kevin, whose bold spirit had captured hers, and whose actions had finally made her understand beyond denial that he was not, and never would be, a slave.
She would have to set him free, and that could not be done within the borders of the Empire of Tsuranuanni. To give him his due, to acknowlege him as a man, she was going to lose him forever. Following through that realization was going to be the hardest thing she had ever undertaken.
Regrouping from the ambush in the forest took the better part of the day. The bodies of the slain warriors had to be gathered up onto makeshift litters for rites and cremation at home; the enemy dead were left as food for jagunas and other carrion eaters. Lujan sent out scouts, who returned from the appointed place of rendezvous with reports that the Hanqu were nowhere in evidence.
Mara took this news badly: that her proposed meeting with Lord Xaltepo was unequivocally fiction and more probably a Minwanabi plot. She fretted, too tired to keep still even in the heat, and worried now for more than Kevin’s hurts.
‘Tasaio does not strike just once,’ she complained to Lujan, as the gloom of twilight fell around the firelit encampment of warriors. ‘Though our wounded will suffer for being moved, we must return home tonight.’
Her Force Commander did not argue the necessity, but strode off and mustered his warriors and efficiently made arrangements to depart. Battle-weary and bandaged, the three survivors from Mara’s original guard were given places of honour at the head of the march. Kevin and two litter-borne wounded were carried next, and after them, the honourably slain. Mara insisted on staying afoot. Her bearers lived, but with their trained ability to manage burdens without jostling, they were assigned to carry the injured. The Lady of the Acoma walked beside her unconscious body slave. Kevin had been given a draught for his pain that left him deeply asleep. She held his unbandaged hand and alternated between aching sorrow and fury.
She had not heeded warnings that Tasaio might have compromised Arakasi’s network. She had seen only her growing power, had been lured into thinking that because she was now Clan Warchief, it was her natural due that lesser families should clamour for her favour. Nacoya had cautioned her; Keyoke had most pointedly avoided a confrontation with her, precisely that he could be free to forestall the disaster of the trap she had foolishly conceded to Tasaio.
Twenty-seven good warriors from her honour guard were dead. Lujan had lost another twelve in the course of her rescue, and Kevin might never walk again without a limp.
The price was far too high.
Mara clenched her hand, then belatedly relaxed her grip; she squeezed only Kevin, who had stood as staunchly as any of her warriors. She did not feel the stones under her feet, or notice the occasional hand on her elbow as Lujan steadied her over the gullies. She barely noticed the coming and going of the scout patrols, as they repeatedly swept the surrounding woods for enemies; she thought only upon the shame of her own false pride; and she wondered, over and over, what she would say to Arakasi.
The moon set. The darkness under the trees matched the darkness in Mara’s heart as she marched numbly, dwelling long and hard on recriminations until she reached the borders of her estate.
Another patrol of soldiers awaited her there, armed and carrying torches. Mara was weary enough that it took her a moment to realize the anomaly of this added company’s presence. Lujan was speaking with the Patrol Leader, and as she heard Ayaki’s name, a chill washed over her, fright jolting her alert.
She pushed away from Kevin’s litter and hurried to her Force Commander’s side. ‘What has happened to my son?’
Lujan caught her shoulders firmly. ‘He is alive, my Lady.’