The messenger sat on a fine, threadworked cushion, and even his posture was imposing. He was a young man, powerfully muscled, and beautiful to look upon in a simple kilt of white cloth. Cross-gartered sandals hugged his dusty legs, and his skin sparkled with perspiration. Binding shoulder-length black hair from his brow was his badge of rank, a cloth in alternating bands of gold and white that sparkled and flashed through the shadows. The thread of the weave was metallic, true gold, the symbol of the Emperor of Tsuranuanni, whose bonded word he carried.
Upon Mara’s entrance, he rose from his seat and presented himself with a bow. The gesture denoted arrogance, for although he was a servant and she a noble Lady, his master’s word was the law of the land, to which all great houses must submit. The head badge made this man sacrosanct within the Empire. He could safely run through a battlefield, between warring houses, and no soldier would dare impede his passage, upon pain of the Emperor’s wrath. The messenger knelt with beautifully studied poise and presented a gilt-edged scroll, tied also with ribbons of gold, and sealed with the imprint of Ichindar.
Mara accepted the weighty missive, her hands looking fragile against the parchment. She broke the seal, unrolled the scroll, and began to read, while Lujan took his place on the side once occupied by Keyoke, and Nacoya visibly restrained herself from craning her neck to make out words over her mistress’s shoulder.
The document was not lengthy. Kevin, who was the tallest, could see that the sentences were brief. Yet Mara paused a lengthy interval before she raised her face and spoke.
‘Thank you. You may go,’ she said to the messenger. ‘My servants will see you refreshed and housed, if you wish to rest while my scribes take dictation and prepare my return message.’
The imperial messenger bowed and departed, the tap of his nail-studded sandals loud in the closed hall. The moment he passed beyond the doorway, Mara sank down upon the nearest empty cushion.
‘Tasaio’s hand is at last revealed,’ she said, and her voice sounded hollow and small.
Nacoya took the scroll and read its lines with a steadily deepening scowl. ‘The devil!’ she exclaimed when she finished.
‘Pretty Lady,’ Lujan interjected, ‘what are the Emperor’s wishes?’
It was Nacoya who answered, her aged voice like acid. ‘Orders, from the High Council. We must, with all haste, send our army to lend support to Lord Xacatecas in his war against the nomad raiders in Dustari. Lady Mara has been commanded to appear in person with a levy of four companies of troops, to be ready to depart within two months.’
Lujan’s eyebrows jerked up and froze. ‘Three companies would be too many,’ he said, and his hand tapped furiously on his sword hilt. ‘We’re going to have to buy favours of the cho-ja.’ His gaze shifted significantly to Kevin. ‘And you’re right, damn your barbarian ideas. Keyoke cannot be granted the luxury of dying, else the estate will be left stripped of its last experienced officer.’
‘That’s surely what Desio intends. We must balk him.’ Mara turned her head. Her eyes were black sparks, and her cheeks were flushed in shock as she voiced her orders. ‘Lujan, you are now promoted to the post of Force Commander. Take Kevin and go to Keyoke. Tell him I wish to appoint him as First Adviser for War, but will do so only with his permission.’ Her voice went distant with memory or maybe tears as she added, ‘He will think other warriors will ridicule him for carrying a crutch, but I will see his name is honoured. Remind him that Pape once found pride in wearing the black rag of the condemned.’
Lujan bowed, a suggestion of sorrow in his own stance. ‘I doubt Keyoke would leave us in such perilous straits, my Lady. But the gods might overrule his will. The wound in his abdomen is not the sort that a man is likely to recover from.’
Mara bit her lip. As if the words pained her, she said, ‘Then, with his permission, I will send runner slaves and messengers throughout the Empire, to seek a healing priest of Hantukama.’
‘The offering such a priest will demand for healing will be great,’ Nacoya pointed out. ‘You may have to build a large shrine.’
Mara came close to losing her temper. ‘Then speak to Jican about rescuing the remnants of our silk from the mountains and getting it to market at Jamar! For we need our Keyoke alive, or all will be lost. We cannot afford to slight the Lord of the Xacatecas.’ Even for Kevin’s sake, this statement needed no elaboration. The promise of Lord Xacatecas’ alliance had held many enemies at bay; should the Acoma give a family that powerful any cause whatsoever for enmity, they would beg a swift ruin, engaged as they were in their blood feud with the Minwanabi. ‘The estate here must not be left in jeopardy,’ Mara finished.
‘Dustari is a trap,’ Nacoya said, voicing a point all except Kevin were aware of. ‘Tasaio will be there, and no move you or your four companies can make will not be anticipated in advance. You and the men you take with you will go the way of Lord Sezu, betrayed to your deaths on foreign soil.’
‘All the more reason why Keyoke must hold these lands secure for Ayaki,’ Mara finished. And the last high colour fled her face.