Saric’s alarm transformed to a look of piercing inquiry, which the Lady shied away from without comment. She had not lied. At last she realized her tiredness of the past few days was not simple fatigue; the difficult stomach in the morning was a familiar sign of pregnancy. With Ayaki, she could not keep breakfast down for the first nine weeks she had carried him. Abruptly recalled to the fact that Saric had been a soldier long enough to have observed the condition in the army’s camp followers, she peremptorily ordered him to leave before he had time to make his suspicions a certainty. Left alone until her maid’s arrival, Mara felt sadness well up inside. She permitted the tears that gathered in her eyes, aware that her feelings were amplified by the changes within her body. She would indulge herself now, when contemplating bitter choices, for the time would arrive soon when she must act with . . . what had Kevin called it? Nerves of steel! Yes, she must have only hardness in her soul. And thinking of her beloved, sitting quietly in her quarters awaiting her summons, or her return to his side, the tears flowed freely down her face.
Above anyone else, Kevin must never find out she carried a child by him. That single fact would bind him to her in a way that would be cruelty to sunder. His devotion to Ayaki had established how much regard he held for children. Though he had never spoken on the subject, Mara had read the longing in his eyes. She knew he yearned for a son or a daughter of his own, and that by his homeworld’s code of honour, such things were not ever taken lightly. On Kelewan the bastard child of a slave would not be an issue. The illegitimate children of nobles often rose to high office within their own houses. But to Kevin, the matter would lie closer to his heart than his own life. No, the man she loved must never know, and that meant her days with him were numbered.
The maid arrived and, seeing her mistress in distress, came at once to her side. ‘Lady, what may I do?’
Mara held out her hand. ‘Just help me so I may rise without becoming ill.’ The request was voiced in a strained whisper.
As the Lady of the Acoma stood on shaky feet, she understood that pregnancy was but a small part of the reason she was ill. The tension within her was like a bowstring, drawn until it threatened to snap.
Someday, she hoped the child within her womb would be counted Hokanu’s son and rise to be Lord of the Shinzawai . . . That he – already she hoped for a boy — would be Kevin’s was simply her way of discharging the debt of honour due the barbarian who had won her heart and repeatedly saved her life. His line would continue in distinction upon the soil of Kelewan, and so his shade would be revered and remembered.
But Mara knew she must first survive the next three days. Even as powerful a Lord as Kamatsu would not bind his heir to a house with an enemy as threatening as Tasaio. White now from more than stomach cramps, Mara leaned heavily on her maid’s supporting arm. She must formulate a plan to snatch the victory that seemed assured from the grasp of the Minwanabi. She simply must; the alternative was utter obliteration for her son, and for Kevin’s unborn child.
Sunset threw red light through the wide screens of the chamber. Tasaio of the Minwanabi perched like a monarch upon a pile of cushions in the largest, most opulent suite of his residence in the Holy City. Unlike most other Ruling Lords, who owned town houses, the Minwanabi possessed a sizeable mansion on a hilltop above the city, overlooking the heart of the imperial precinct. Gazing through slitted eyes at the changing of the white-armoured guards at the Emperor’s inner gate, the Lord hardly glanced at the message handed to him by his First Adviser.
With utmost patience, Incomo prompted, ‘Master, Mara is but a short distance from the city gate, with her honour guard. She is also accompanied by an imperial, messenger bearing a staff of office, and an Imperial Peace is upon the city. At your word, she will travel to the appointed meeting place.’
‘Her choice of timing will not save her.’ Tasaio ran his thumb along his jaw as he followed the movement of the guards in their sparkling white armour. ‘That silly boy who calls himself Emperor can delude himself for a few more days, but no call of Imperial Peace will prevent me from destroying an enemy.’ After an interval, Tasaio added, ‘However, it might be useful to wait to strike until we have a time and place of our choosing. And it might be entertaining to hear what the Acoma bitch desires, simply to learn what I may do to frustrate her.’
Incomo grew tense with apprehension. ‘Master, I would be remiss in my duty if I did not advise against this meeting. The woman is more dangerous than any other ruler in the Empire, as she has demonstrated on numerous occasions.’
Drawn at last from contemplation, Tasaio silenced his First Adviser with a glare. ‘I have an army with me, Incomo.’
‘But do you stand to gain?’ the First Adviser asked urgently, more than mindful that his Lord’s uncle had died under his own roof with his army about him, as a result of Mara’s plotting. ‘If the Lady of the Acoma desires talk, anything she will say must be to aid her own cause against you. I see nothing to benefit the Minwanabi in this, my Lord.’