‘Desio’s ill-omened gate that was never finished. The temple has decreed: by their fall from power, the Minwanabi have demonstrated beyond doubt that their cause found no favour with the Red God. Therefore the gate is neither consecrated nor blessed and may be destroyed without fear of divine retribution.’
He indicated a pair of large needra wagons drawn off to one side, awaiting the dismantled timbers of a second gate. ‘This structure will be sent to the site you provided. That soil will be reconsecrated.’ From behind the grim skull mask the priest sounded almost conversational. ‘It was something of an odd request, this relocation of a prayer gate, Mara, but upon discussion, no blasphemy or sacrilege was seen. Given the association of this gate and the vow that was made, it was understandable why you might wish to have it removed once you hold this land.’ The priest gave a Tsurani shrug. ‘Now that the High Council is an advisory body only, the temples may again take a more active role in the well-being of the Empire. Your part counted for much, and the servants of the gods are grateful.’
He motioned aside to a worker who approached the west post with a shovel. ‘Gently!’ he called out in warning. ‘The remains of the sacrifices must not be disturbed. Be sure there is ample soil around their graves!’
The overseer to the workers acknowledged the priest’s instruction. Satisfied the matter was in hand, the servant of Turakamu reminisced in friendly fashion with Mara. ‘We who serve the Red God are often misunderstood, Lady. Death is part of life, and all come to Turakamu’s hall eventually. We are not in a hurry to gather their spirits. Remember that in the future should you ever have need of our counsel.’
Mara nodded her respect. ‘I shall, Priest.’ Then she turned to Lujan and said, ‘I will walk for a while.’
She led the march down the gentle rise to the landing where boats waited by the docks to cross the lake. On the far shore in the sunshine lay the vast house that soon would honour the Acoma and their visitors and emissaries. ‘Lujan,’ she murmured, as her eyes followed the magnificent vista of lake, and mountains, and the distant inlet from the river, ‘did you ever think we might lose?’
Lujan laughed and Mara felt a rush of affection for this man, most like her rakish barbarian with his pleasantly teasing nature. ‘Mistress, I would be a liar if I said I had not contemplated defeat on more than one occasion.’ More seriously he added, ‘But never for a moment did I doubt you.’
Mara impulsively took his hand. ‘For that I humbly thank you, my friend.’
Together, Lady and Force Commander made their way to the docks where boatmen waited to take them across the beautiful lake. Lujan, Saric, and Keyoke assumed seats in the vessel with Mara, while her two Force Leaders directed the other Acoma soldiers into craft to follow after. Soon the water was crowded with the flotilla of her army. Mara glanced back to where Keyoke sat, holding a bundle in his lap as if it were fragile and precious. Under a mantle of green cloth beaded with jewels rested the Acoma natami. Mara’s Adviser for War had drilled endlessly with an old wooden coffer to perfect the handling of both burden and crutch. He counted this trust as the highest honour ever awarded him, even over accolades won in battle.
The boats floated swiftly across the water. Wishing poignantly that Kevin could have been at her side, Mara was surprised out of her reverie to see a magician waiting for her upon the docks outside the great house. Behind him stood priests of Chochocan, who had been overseeing the blessing of the new Acoma estate, in preparation for Mara’s coming union with Hokanu of the Shinzawai.
The first guests would arrive within the week. Mara had been relieved, for by her estimation, Kevin’s child would be born slightly less than eight months after the wedding, close enough to raise only eyebrows, and not giving incontrovertible evidence that the father was other than her pledged husband.
The lead boat reached the landing. Helped to the dock by Lujan, Mara bowed to the magician. ‘Great One, you do us honour.’
The stouter of the two Black Robes who had accompanied Fumita in the Council Hall, the member of the Assembly introduced himself. ‘I am Hochopepa, Lady.’
Mara felt a stab of concern. ‘Is there a problem, Great One?’
The Great One waved a pudgy hand. ‘No. I remain only to inform you that my colleague conducted Tasaio here, then witnessed the ceremony as the former Minwanabi Lord made ready to honourably end the feud and take his own life.’
Mara was joined by her advisers as the Great One added sadly, ‘Please, come with me.’
The Acoma party followed him down spacious paths on the opposite side of the great house. There more than ten thousand people waited in silent ranks. Before them stood a large bier fronted with red bunting. Mara raised her eyes to the four shrouded figures that lay in their final rest.