The Lord of the Sejaio regarded the Warchief’s staff he now held, and reluctantly came to stand before the Emperor. ‘Majesty! I do not know if I act for the Good of the Empire or not.’ He glanced at the other Lords who clustered unanimously around Mara and Fumita. ‘But it is said that in the Great Game the gods favour the winners. I surrender to you the office of Warchief of the Shonshoni.’
Ichindar accepted the last of the five staves of office. Clearly, in words of newly unquestioned authority, he pronounced, ‘The office of Warlord is no more!’ Without further ceremony he snapped each staff in two halves and cast the fragments on the floor. Then, over the echoes as the broken rods tumbled down the stair of the dais, he called upon Kamatsu of the Shinzawai.
Hokanu’s father returned a bow of deep courtesy. ‘Majesty?’
‘The Empire has. need of you,’ decreed the Light of Heaven. ‘I appoint you to a new office, Imperial Chancellor.’
Again Kamatsu bowed. ‘To serve the Empire, Majesty, I will gladly accept.’
To the assembly of nobles, Ichindar proclaimed, ‘Kamatsu of the Shinzawai is my voice and my ear. He shall hear your requests, your needs, and your suggestions as we undertake to reshape our nations.’ When the new Imperial Chancellor was dismissed, the Light of Heaven called another name.
‘Frasai of the Tonmargu!’
The old soldier made his way forward. ‘Majesty!’
‘We shall have need of one to oversee military matters. If Kamatsu is my eyes and ears, will you act as my good arm?’
‘To serve the Empire!’ Lord Frasai returned in his basso voice.
Clearly, Ichindar outlined new duties. ‘Frasai of the Tonmargu shall bear the title of Imperial Overlord. He shall conduct the business of the Empire as did the Warlord in days past, but only at my bidding.’ Then Ichindar inclined his gleaming helm toward a figure nearest to Mara. ‘Further, I instruct Hoppara of the Xacatecas to act as his second-in-command.’
The youthful Lord grinned at Mara. ‘To serve the Empire!’ he cried exuberantly.
Mara gave him Tasaio’s sword. ‘Send this to the desert-men, to honour your father’s vow.’
Hoppara of the Xacatecas received the ancient sword from her hands and bowed respectfully.
And then the Light of Heaven turned his visage to the Lady who stood patiently in robes of shimmering green silk. ‘Mara of the Acoma!’
The woman who had given him a throne, and the burdens of absolute power, looked up, her eyes unreadably deep and her emotions locked behind impeccable Tsurani bearing.
‘You have prevented chaos from overtaking the nations,’ Ichindar stated to those at large. And then his tone turned personal. ‘What reward can we offer?’
Mara found herself blushing. ‘Majesty, in truth, I wished for nothing beyond the chance to conduct the affairs of my family in peace and prosperity. I fear I have sacrificed too much of my honour to deserve any reward.’
‘And yet you set aside those very needs, and honour, to serve the greater good,’ Ichindar pointed out. ‘You have reminded us of forgotten truths and true greatness.’ He paused to sweep the air with one golden-armoured hand. ‘You have recalled to our times a concept neglected for centuries. By your sacrifice, by setting aside family for the good of the nation at large, you have defined the highest of all honours. Is there no reward we might grant?’
Mara considered barely a moment. ‘Majesty, I would ask for title to the estate and lands that belonged to the Lord of the Minwanabi.’
A harsh, uneasy mutter ran the breadth of the hall. Tsurani tradition dictated that a fallen house was accursed by the gods, to be avoided by commoner and noble alike. Many fine estates were gone to ruin and weeds as a result of the deep-seated conviction that a Lord’s luck was tied to the soil.
The Emperor made a gesture of uncertainty. ‘Why such an ill-omened gift, Lady?’
‘Majesty,’ she said gravely, ‘we gather today to embrace change. To my mind, it is the greater offence against heaven to allow a dwelling of such magnificence to be abandoned to waste and decay. I hold no fear of ill luck. Allow me, and I shall send to the Red God’s temple and seek clear notice that Desio’s blood vow stands fulfilled. Then may the priests of Chochocan bless the property, every foot if need be, and on the day when the restless spirits of the Minwanabi are banished in peace, I will make my home there.’
Struggling to hide tears of relief, Mara continued. ‘Too many good men and women have died, Majesty. Others are slaves, their talents denied, their potential ignored.’ Poignantly struck by the memory of Kevin, she fought her voice level and continued. ‘I work for a future of change, and for that, I ask to be first to break a profitless tradition.’