With one careless remark, the barbarian had challenged the very fabric of Tsurani beliefs.
Mara clung to her poise, inwardly battered by a host of alarming implications. The pleasures Kevin brought her could never compensate for the dangerous new bent of his thoughts. He must not be allowed to speak such blasphemous idiocy, especially not within Ayaki’s hearing; the boy had grown to dote upon Kevin, and the future Lord of the Acoma’s resolve as he led his house to greatness must never be shaken by uncertainties. To conquer the might of other families because the gods looked favourably upon such efforts was one thing; to vainly think accolades came solely through wit and skill, and some random factor of luck was . . . was morally destructive and unthinkable. Cornered, with only one option, the Lady of the Acoma chose her course.
‘Leave me,’ she said sharply. She arose at once from her bed and brusquely clapped for servants. Although the sun had not yet risen, and the screens were still closed for the night, two maids and a manservant answered her summons.
‘Dress me at once,’ the Lady commanded. One maid rushed to select a robe, while the other took up brush and comb to attend to her mistress’s tangles. The manservant tidied the scattered cushions and adjusted the screens. The fact that Kevin got in his way seemed not to faze him. Wizened and old, and ingrained in the habit of his duties, he went about straightening up the chamber as though he were deaf.
Mara slipped her arms into the rose-coloured silken robe the maid held up for her. She turned and saw Kevin standing naked, his breeches and shirt across his arm, and a dumbfounded look on his face. The Lady’s expression remained stern, her dark eyes fathomless and hard. ‘Jican tells me that the work clearing the forest for my needra fields goes slowly. This is mostly owing to your countrymen, who complain and malinger over their appointed share of work.’ The maid with the comb lifted the hair from Mara’s nape and began expertly piling it into an elaborately knotted headdress. Mara continued in a level tone, despite the fact that her head was tugged this way and that as the maid separated each long lock for arrangement, ‘I wish you to take charge,’ Mara announced. ‘Spring will be upon us all too swiftly, and the needra herds will increase. You shall have power over my overseers and the authority to change any detail you see fit. In return, your countrymen will cease their laziness. They will cut timber and clear the new fields before the first calf is thrown. You may coddle their needs so long as the work gets done. Fail to complete this task, and I shall have one man chosen at random and hung for each day my new pastures remain unfinished past the Spring Welcoming Festival.’
Kevin appeared puzzled, but he nodded. ‘Shall I return tonight, or -‘ he began.
‘You will need to stay with the workers in the meadow camp.’
‘When shall I return -‘
Coldly Mara interrupted. ‘When I choose to send for you. Now go.’
Kevin bowed, his face revealing bafflement and anger. Still carrying his clothing, he departed the room. The soldier on duty by the door showed no change in expression as the barbarian stepped into the corridor. The Midkemian looked at the impassive soldier as if he had said something, then let loose a burst of ironic laughter. ‘Damned if I can figure her out, either,’ he confided in tight frustration. The soldier’s eyes fixed upon Kevin, but the features remained unchanged.
Despite being surrounded by servants, Mara overheard Kevin’s comment. She heard the pain that he did not bother to conceal, and closed her eyes against inexplicably threatening tears. Tsurani decorum kept her from showing emotion, though her inner self might cry out with the desire to call Kevin back. As a lover she wished to ease his pain, but as Lady of the Acoma she must not be ruled by the heart. Mara kept her anguish behind a mask, while her servants worked unobtrusively on her person.