Hokanu regarded his hands for a moment, his brow untroubled, and a smile bending the corners of his mouth. ‘If I relieve my Lady of her dilemma, she will owe the Shinzawai her favour. Say, entertaining a poor second son at dinner soon?’
Mara unexpectedly laughed. ‘You’re a devil for flattery, Hokanu. Very well; you know that I need no bribes to allow you to visit my estates. Your company is . . . always welcome.’
Hokanu stared in mock suffering at Lujan. ‘She says that very prettily for one who refused me the last time I was in Sulan-Qu.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Mara protested, then blushed as she realized how quickly she had spoken in her own defence. With better decorum she added, ‘Your request came at an awkward moment, Master Hokanu.’ And her face darkened as she recalled a Minwanabi spy, and a pretty, importunate boy who had suffered as a result of the intrigue and ambition that underlay every aspect of life in the Empire of Tsuranuanni.
Hokanu noted the strain that shadowed her face. His heart went out to this young woman, who had been so serious as a child, and who had against the greatest odds found the courage and intelligence to secure her house from ruin. ‘I will cede to you the Midkemians,’ he said firmly, ‘for whatever price you can bargain with the factor.’
‘But I wish not to inconvenience you,’ Mara protested. Her fan trembled between clenched fingers. She was tense; Hokanu must not be permitted to notice, and to distract him she whiffed air through the feathers as if she were bothered by the heat. ‘The Shinzawai have shown the Acoma much kindness and, in honour, it is time that we proved ourselves worthy. Let me be the one to cede the bidding.’
Hokanu regarded the Lady, who was daintily small, and far more attractive than she herself understood. She had a smile that made her radiant, except that at present the face beneath its thyza-powder makeup was almost wary with tension. Her concern went much deeper than simple forms of honour, the young man sensed at once.
The insight gave him pause: she had been snatched away from taking vows of service to the goddess Lashima to assume her role as Ruling Lady. In all likelihood she had known little or nothing of men before her wedding night. And Buntokapi of the Anasati, an ill-mannered, coarse braggart at the best of times, had been the son of an Acoma enemy before he had become her husband and Ruling Lord. He had been rough with her, Hokanu understood with sudden certainty, which was why this Ruling Lady and mother could also act as unsure as a girl years younger. Admiration followed; this seemingly delicate girl had owned valour out of all proportion to her size and experience. No one outside her inner household could ever guess what she might have endured in Buntokapi’s rude grasp. One close to Mara might say much if Hokanu could get him to share drink in a wine shop. But a glance at Lujan’s alert pose convinced Lord Kamatsu’s son that the Strike Leader was a poor choice. The warrior measured Hokanu, having perceived his interest; and where his mistress was concerned, his loyalty would be absolute. Hokanu knew Mara was a shrewd judge of character – she had proven as much by staying alive as long as she had.
Attempting to lighten her mood and not give offence, Hokanu said, ‘Lady, I spoke out of sincere disappointment at not being able to see you on my last visit.’ He concealed any diffidence behind a disarming smile. ‘No favours do the Acoma owe the Shinzawai. We deal here in simple practicality. Most Midkemian slaves go to the block at the City of the Plains and Jamar, and I am bound for Jamar. Should I make you wait for the next shipment of prisoners to journey upriver, while I drive two score men in a coffle through the heat, house them while I conduct business, then herd them back upriver again? I think not. Your needra pastures are a more immediate need, I judge. Please accept my not bidding against you as nothing more than a tiny courtesy from me.’
Mara stopped her fan in midair with barely hidden relief. ‘Tiny courtesy? Your kindness is unmatched, Hokanu. When your business in Jamar is concluded, I would be most pleased if you would accept my invitation to rest as a guest of the Acoma on your way back to your father’s estates.’