‘See that you do.’ Tasaio drew his sword and slashed air with a sharp whine of sound. ‘See that you do. Now get out of my sight, before I give your flesh to my torturers for live experimentation.’
The Tong Master said, ‘Seek not to anger me, Lord Tasaio.’ He motioned for his assassins to step back as he moved forward to confront the Minwanabi ruler. In a low voice, he said, ‘The Hamoi are not vassals, a fact you would do well to remember. I am the Obajan of the Hamoi. I will do this thing because my family has been dishonoured, even as yours, not because you order it. Fate has given us a common enemy, my Lord, but never again threaten me.’ He glanced down and Tasaio followed his gaze. Between forefinger and thumb the man held a small dagger, masked from any other’s sight.
The Lord of the Minwanabi did not flinch or move away. He simply returned his gaze to the eyes of the Obajan. He knew the man had but to twitch and the blade would kill before the Minwanabi Lord could possibly raise his sword. Something like savage humour flickered in Tasaio’s eyes as the Tong Master said, ‘I enjoy blood. It is mother’s milk to me. Remember that and we may remain allies.’
Tasaio turned his back, ignoring the -risk, and said, ‘Depart in peace, Obajan of the Hamoi.’ His knuckles whitened upon the hilt of his sword.
The Tong Master turned away, nimbly for a man of his size, the dagger vanishing into his tunic before any other could see it. He left at good pace, his honour guards falling in on either side as he strode from the terrace, leaving a frustrated and enraged man slashing at phantoms in the air.
25 – Confrontation
Trumpets sounded.
A dozen liveried bearers carried a platform, upon which Mara firmly held the wooden railing before her. She strove to appear assured, despite the inward conviction that she looked silly wearing the newly fashioned armour of a Hadama Warchief. Unaccustomed to the stiffness of laminated-hide greaves and bracers, and decidedly ill at ease with fittings and buckles and breastplate, she reminded herself to stand erect. Keyoke and Saric had insisted that while she could continue wearing formal robes during meetings, for her first public appearance as Clan Warchief she must dress the part.
How a man could fight and swing a sword under such a weight of constricting gear, Mara could not guess. Newly appreciative of the warriors who marched in ranks behind, she led the army of Clan Hadama, nearly ten thousand strong, toward the gates of the Holy City.
Seated at her feet as befitted her rank, Kevin tried to look like a meek body slave. But with the grassy verge on either side of the road jammed with cheering, waving commoners, he could hardly repress his excitement. Speaking with his face turned up toward his mistress, so that few could hear him over the crowd’s noise, he laughed. ‘They seem quite taken with you, my Lady.’
Mara unbent enough to return a surreptitious reply. ‘I certainly hope so. Women warriors are rare in the Empire’s history, but the few who are remembered were legendary, almost as unique as the Servants of the Empire.’ She attempted to shrug off her newfound notoriety. ‘Any mob loves a spectacle. They’d cheer no matter who stood upon this platform.’
‘Maybe,’ Kevin allowed. ‘But I think they sense the Empire is in danger and see you as someone they can look to with hope.’
Mara regarded the people who crowded the way to the outer gate of the Holy City. All castes and trades were represented, from sunburned field workers to cart drivers, merchants, and guild masters. All seemed earnest in their approval of the Lady of the Acoma. Many shouted her name, while others waved or tossed tokens made of folded paper for luck.
Mara still looked sceptical in the face of such admiration. Kevin added, ‘They know who your enemy is and they are as surely aware of Tasaio’s dark nature as you are. You nobles may not speak ill of one another out of courtesy, but I assure you that commoners don’t share that constraint. Given the choice, they endorse the one whose policy is likely to be the more merciful. Is it yours or the Minwanabi Lord’s?’