‘Or we’ll be beggared,’ Lujan added in tones an octave higher than usual, in a wicked imitation of the hadonra’s fretful diffidence.
He was rewarded by a gasp of laughter from his mistress. ‘You are an evil man, Lujan. And if you weren’t so adept at keeping me amused I’d have long ago packed you off to the swamps, to guard insect-infested hovels. Leave me, and rest well.’
‘Sleep, my Lady.’ Gently he slid the screen closed enough for privacy, but left enough of a gap that armed help could reach her on an instant’s notice. Mara sighed as she saw that Lujan assumed the role of guard before her door, rather than retiring for the night. She wondered how long the Acoma could suffer an honourably plumed Strike Leader standing duty like a common warrior outside her chambers.
Desio, if he knew, would be gloating.
Ayaki grabbed a fistful of red hair. ‘Ow!’ yelled Kevin in mock pain. He reached up to the boy who straddled his shoulders and tickled his silk-clad ribs. The young Acoma heir responded with an energetic howl of laughter that caused half the soldiers in Mara’s escort to suppress a flinch.
The litter curtains whipped aside, and Mara called through the gap. ‘Will both of you children quieten down?’
Kevin grinned at her and gave Ayaki’s toe one last tweak. The youngster screeched and burst into giggles. ‘We’re having fun,’ the barbarian responded. ‘Just because Desio wants you dead is no reason to spoil a perfectly fine day.’
Mara made an effort to lighten her frown. That both Ayaki and Kevin had made their first visit to the cho-ja hive with her retinue was reason enough for boisterous spirits. But what one was too young and the other too inexperienced to understand was that a messenger sent to recall her from the hive meant an event of unsettling importance. If the news had been good, inevitably it followed that it could have waited for her return to the estate house.
Mara sighed as she settled back against her cushions. Sunlight washed across her lap, and humid air made her sweat. It had rained during the night, for the wet season was beginning. The ground where her soldiers marched was thinly filmed with mud, and the shadier hollows in the road sparkled with puddles like jewels. The added moisture caused even the commonest weeds to flower, and the air was oppressive with perfumes. Mara felt a headache coming on. The past month had worn her nerves, as she waited for the Minwanabi under Desio to establish some predictable pattern. So far the only concrete thing Arakasi’s spy network had turned up was that Desio had informed the Warlord that his cousin Tasaio was needed at home.
That by itself was ominous. Tasaio’s cleverness had nearly brought the Acoma to ruin in the first place, and recovery was too recent to withstand another major setback.
As the litter rounded the last curve on the approach to the estate house, Mara felt apprehension that this summons from her Force Commander resulted from a move instigated by Tasaio. The man was too good, too subtle, and too ambitious to stay a minor player in her enemies’ ranks. Had she been Desio, she would have put the entire conflict with the Acoma into Tasaio’s hands.
‘What did you see that made you wonder?’ Kevin inquired of Ayaki. The two of them had been instant friends since the morning the boy had tried to instruct the huge barbarian in the correct manner of lacing Tsurani sandals, even though he really didn’t know himself. The barbarian’s winning over the boy had given him some added protection against Mara’s anger at his having put hands upon her. As she came to know Kevin, she found herself developing something resembling affection for him, despite his outrageous behaviour and a total lack of civility.
‘Funny smell!’ shouted Ayaki, for whom enthusiasm was measured in decibels.
‘You can’t see a smell,’ Kevin protested. ‘Though I admit the cho-ja’s hole reeked like a spice grinder’s shed.’
‘Why?’ Ayaki thumped his chubby fist on Kevin’s crown for emphasis. ‘Why?’
Kevin caught the boy’s ankles and flipped him off his shoulders in a somersault. ‘I suppose because they’re insects – bugs.’
Ayaki, upside down and turning red with pleasure, said, ‘Bugs don’t talk. They bite. Nurse swats them.’ He paused, dangling his hands downward and rolling his eyes. ‘She swats me, too.’
‘Because you talk too much,’ Kevin suggested. ‘And the cho-ja are intelligent and strong. If you tried to swat one, it would squish you.’