Servant of the Empire

Tasaio’s eyes widened. ‘You’ll need to be clearer, my Lord.’

 

 

Pleased to have surprised his cousin even slightly, Desio set his chin on clenched knuckles. ‘We “expose” one Acoma spy, torture him enough to convince him we’re serious, and while doing so, brag about our trap – we’ll even tell him where it will occur. Then, at the moment Keyoke cannot be recalled, we’ll let him escape.’

 

Tasaio’s face was expressionless. ‘And he’ll run home to the Acoma.’ Deliberate in his movements as always, he returned his sword to his scabbard. The click as the laminated blade slid home resounded through the near-‘ empty hall.

 

‘About here,’ Desio went on, shifting position to touch the river road line with his toe, ‘just to the south of Sulan-Qu, our released spy will encounter Lujan and his caravan.

 

By then the Acoma Strike Leader will be jumping at every sound, expecting our overdue ambush. When he hears that Keyoke is the real target, he’ll turn his army and race downriver to try a rescue.’ Smugly Desio concluded, ‘By the time relief arrives, Keyoke will be dead and our men in position to ambush Lujan’s force.’

 

Tasaio’s lips thinned in serious doubt. ‘I think the plan a bit overbold, my Lord. Removing Keyoke with his little troop should pose no problem, but Lujan will be commanding as many as three companies of a hundred, hundred and twenty men each, hot for a battle.’

 

Desio brushed such concerns away. ‘At the worst, Lujan will prove too difficult a foe and we’ll withdraw, leaving Keyoke dead and the Acoma’s most likely new Force Commander shamed by his failure to effect a rescue.

 

‘Better,’ Desio finished, a finger upraised for emphasis, ‘with a little luck, we could remove at one stroke the only other able field commander the Acoma bitch has. That’s worth the risk.’

 

‘My Lord —’ Tasaio began.

 

‘Do it!’ Desio shouted, overriding his cousin’s caution. Then, with all his lordly authority, he calmly repeated his command. ‘Do it, cousin.’

 

Tasaio bowed his head, turned, and left. While the aide who had carried the map hurried belatedly to catch up, Desio motioned to Incomo. ‘I shall be drilling with my personal guard for the next hour. Afterwards I shall bathe. Instruct the hadonra to have serving girls ready. Then I shall dine.’

 

Uncaring that he had demeaned his First Adviser with instructions more suitably put to a body servant, the Lord of the Minwanabi arose. Slaves hastened to set crumpled cushions to rights and to clear away trays that held discarded fruit rinds. Force Commander Irrilandi, in his orange-plumed helm, trailed his master unobtrusively from the hall. Incomo watched with narrowed eyes. As the doors boomed closed, and only slaves and servants remained, he bent his leathery neck and regarded the map still spread on the floor by the dais, creased now where the Lord had trodden across it. Incomo descended the stair. Posed like a shore bird with one foot in Lash Province and the other poised over the border to Hokani, he shook his head sharply. ‘If Lujan is a fool, our Lord is a genius,’ he mused to himself. ‘But if Lujan is a genius . . .’ He pored over the map and muttered, ‘Now if our headstrong young Lord would listen, I would -‘

 

‘I see several problems,’ a crisp voice interjected.

 

Startled by Tasaio’s silent return, Incomo jerked his chin upward. ‘You might explain.’

 

Tasaio pointed. ‘I came for the map.’

 

Incomo removed himself from the parchment as if walking on eggs. Tasaio was dangerously annoyed, and if he chose to elucidate, he would do so best without badgering.

 

Tasaio motioned, and his aide knelt down to roll the chart. The First Adviser waited, still with patience.

 

‘What could go wrong?’ said Tasaio in candour. He took the rolled map from his officer and slung it casually under his arm. ‘My cousin’s boldness does him honour as head of the clan. However, he depends far too much on events proceeding as Minwanabi desires would have them. From experience I suggest it is wiser to prepare for the worst.’

 

‘Then you expect the double raid to go wrong,’ Incomo prodded, skilfully implying a defeat that Tasaio would face death rather than to allow.

 

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