To her startling request, Ichindar nodded acquiescence. And into a stillness grown profound, as each Lord present examined his land andhis people in a new light, Mara called out in appeal. ‘This waste must end. Now. To all who have stood against me in the past, I make this vow. Come to me with peace in your heart, and I will put an end to old conflicts.’ She glanced at Jiro of the Anasati, but he returned no flicker of feeling. His face under his red and yellow helm remained unreadably remote.
On the dais, the Emperor watched the exchange, and the wonder in the expressions of many of the nobles who were gathered. He sensed something of Mara’s emotions, and yet he understood but a fraction of what motivated this deep and complex woman. Profoundly moved by her vision of a forgiving victory, he said, ‘Lady Mara, lands are insufficient compensation for the gift of enlightened thought you have brought into this council. You have wealth and power, influence and prestige. At this moment none stands above you in influence and greatness in this hall.’ He smiled in sudden wry humour. ‘I would offer to make you my tenth wife if I thought you would accept.’
At Mara’s blush of confusion, a wave of gentle laughter filled the hall. Over the general mirth, the Emperor raised his final command of the day. ‘You have chosen to serve others ahead of your own self-interest. Therefore you shall be recognized, throughout life and all of history. In past ages, when the Empire was yet young, when a citizen came forward to undertake extraordinary service at risk of life and honour, my forebears bestowed on them a title, that all in the land might recognize them with highest acclaim. Mara of the Acoma, I give to you the ancient title Servant of the Empire.’
Stunned speechless, Mara clung to the tatters of her bearing. Servant of the Empire! No man or woman in living memory had received such a lofty accolade. Only a score of times in two thousand years had the title been awarded. Those twenty names were recited for luck, and memorized by children as they learned the history of their people. The rank also brought formal adoption into the imperial household. Reeling mentally at her unanticipated rise in status, Mara realized that she and Ayaki could choose to retire to the palace and live upon imperial largesse for the remainder of her days.
‘You overwhelm me, Majesty,’ she managed at last.
And she bowed to his presence like the humblest of his servants.
Then Lord Hoppara of the Xacatecas let out a battle cry and the High Council hall erupted in cheers. Mara stood at the centre of a circle of admirers, giddy with the recognition that she had won, and more: she had ensured that her family was forever safe from the machinations of House Minwanabi.
27 – Beginnings
Hokanu stood motionless.
Then, in the wash of golden light that fell through the western window, the son of the Shinzawai rested his hands upon the sill. His back to Mara, and his gaze directed outward into the colours of a brilliant sunset, he remained in silent contemplation.
Seated upon the cushions in Kamatsu’s private meeting room, Mara agonized that she could not see to read his face and gauge his reaction to her presence. Her distress was further heightened by anticipation of the difficult words she had yet to utter. She caught herself in Kevin’s habit of picking at the fabric’s fine fringes, and forced back sadness and longing as she stopped. She must live out her days as Lady of the Acoma, even as her beloved must as a free son of Zun.
‘Lady,’ Hokanu said softly, ‘things between us have changed, since we spoke last.’ A tinge of awe touched his tone, and his hands tightened against the beautifully inlaid wood of the window frame. ‘I am heir to the Shinzawai Lordship, true, but you . . . are Servant of the Empire. What life could there be between us, with such a vast gap between our ranks?’
With an effort, Mara shook off her memories of a roguish barbarian slave. ‘We would live as man and woman, as equals, Hokanu. Our families and our names would continue through our progeny, and both our ancestral estates would be managed by factors.’
Bemused, Hokanu finished for her. ‘We would live in the mansion that once belonged to Minwanabi?’
Hearing a catch in his voice, Mara said, ‘Do you fear bad luck?’
Hokanu gave a short laugh. ‘You are all the luck I or any man would ever need, Lady.’ Absently he murmured, ‘Servant of the Empire . . .’ Then, in swift recovery of the topic at hand, he added, ‘I have always admired the home of the Minwanabi. With you at my side, I would most certainly find happiness there.’
Sensing he had reached the point of speaking formal words of acceptance of the marriage proposal his father Kamatsu had given him permission to decide, Mara spoke fast to forestall him.
‘Hokanu, before you say more, there is one thing I must tell you.’