Servant of the Empire. Janny Wurts
robe from her sticky skin. Despite his care, his groin swelled in response to the sight of her bare breasts. In surreptitious embarrassment he hitched at the inadequate hem of his slave livery to hide the result. As often as he reminded himself that concepts of modesty differed here from those of his native Midkemia, he could not become accustomed to the casual near nudity adopted by the Kelewanese women as a consequence of the climate. So involved was he in trying to curb the involuntary response of his body that he barely noted Mara’s words as she waved away her maidservant and sat.
‘What do you have to report?’
Keyoke inclined his head. ‘There has been a raid, a very minor one, launched by the Minwanabi against a thyza caravan.’
Mara pushed back a loosened strand of hair, quiet a moment before she said, ‘Then the attack came as Arakasi’s agent predicted?’
Again Keyoke inclined his head. ‘Even the numbers of the soldiers were accurate. Mistress, I don’t like the smell of the event. It appears to have no strategic relevance at all.’
‘And how you hate loose ends,’ Mara concluded for him. ‘I presume the Minwanabi soldiers were routed?’
‘Killed, to a man,’ Keyoke amended. His dry tone reflected little satisfaction at the victory. ‘One company less to harry our borders, if Desio chooses a war. But it’s the ineptness of the attack that troubles me. The warriors died like men sworn to honourable suicide, not those bent on taking an objective.’
Mara bit her lip, her expression darkening. ‘What do you think?’ she said into the shadows.
Something moved there in response, and Kevin started slightly. He looked more closely and made out the slender form seated motionless, with folded hands. The fellow’s uncanny stillness had caused Kevin to overlook him until now. His voice was dry as a whisper, yet somehow conveyed the emphasis of a loud expostulation. ‘Lady, I can offer you little insight. As yet I have no agent who is privy to Desio’s private councils. He discusses his intentions only with his First Adviser, Incomo, and his cousin Tasaio. The First Adviser is, of course, not given to gossip or drink, and Tasaio confides in no one, even the warrior who was his childhood mentor. Given the circumstances, we do well to know that the agents we have are reporting accurately.’
‘Then what is your surmise?’
Silent a long moment, Arakasi replied, ‘Tasaio is in command, I would wager. He has a mind as devious and keen as any I’ve encountered. He served Lord Jingu well in the obliteration of the Tuscai.’ All, save Kevin, knew the fallen house was the one Arakasi served before coming to Mara’s service. ‘Tasaio is a very sharp sword in his master’s hands. But working under his own direction … it is hard to judge what he would do. I think Tasaio probes. His warriors could have been ordered to die so that he might test something about House Acoma. I judge it a gambit.’
‘For what?’
‘If we knew, mistress, we would be planning counter-measures, instead of pondering possibilities.’
Mara paused through a tense moment. ‘Arakasi, is it possible we have a spy in our own ranks?’
Kevin watched in curiosity as the Acoma Spy Master subsided once more into stillness. Close scrutiny revealed that the man had a knack for arranging himself in a fashion that caused him to blend with his surroundings. ‘Lady, since the day I swore oath on your natami, I have instigated diligent checks. I know of no traitor in our midst.’
The Lady made a frustrated gesture. ‘But why attack a thyza caravan between the estate and Sulan-Qu, unless somebody guesses what plans we have afoot? Arakasi, our next grain shipment is to conceal our new silk samples. If that was information the Minwanabi sought to discover, our troubles might be grave indeed. Our cho-ja silk must take the merchants at the auctions by surprise. Revenue and standing will be lost if our secret is discovered beforehand.’
Arakasi inclined his head, conveying both agreement and assurance. ‘The raid by Desio’s soldiers might have been coincidence, but I concur with you. We dare not presume so. Most likely he probes to discover why we arm our caravans so heavily.’
‘Why not give them a red herring?’ offered Kevin.
‘Herring?’ snapped Keyoke with impatience. By this time, Mara’s Force Commander had grown resigned to the barbarian’s out-of-turn remarks; he could not be made to think like a slave, and the Lady at some point, and for reasons of her own, had decided not to enforce protocol. But Arakasi and the Midkemian had never encountered each other previously, and the impertinence came as a surprise.
The Spy Master’s eyes glinted in the shadows as he looked at the tall man who stood behind Mara’s shoulder. Never one to entangle his intellect with preconceptions, he discarded both the man’s rank and his insolence as irrelevant, and fastened what proved to be an almost frighteningly intense interest upon the concept behind Kevin’s suggestion. ‘You use a word for a species of fish, but imply something very different.’
‘A ruse of sorts.’ Kevin accompanied his explanation with his usual expansive gestures. ‘If something is to be hidden in a thyza shipment, confuse the enemy by burying wrapped and sealed packages in every wagon that carries goods. Then the enemy must either spread his resources thin and intercept all outgoing caravans, and thereby make plain his intentions, or else abandon the attempt.’
Arakasi blinked very fast, like a hawk. His thoughts moved faster still. ‘And the silk samples would be in none of these shipments,’ he concluded, ‘but concealed somewhere else, perhaps even in plain sight, where silks might ordinarily be in evidence.’
Kevin’s eyes lit up. ‘Precisely. Perhaps you could sew them as the lining of robes, or maybe even as a separate shipment of scarves.’
‘The concept is sound,’ Mara said, and Arakasi nodded tacit agreement. ‘We could even have servants wear under-robes of the fine silk beneath their usual travelling robes.’
That moment, someone outside knocked insistently at the screen. Arakasi faded into his corner as if by reflex, and Mara called an inquiry.
The screen whipped back to admit the dishevelled Acoma First Adviser in a red-faced state of agitation. Keyoke settled back on his cushions and loosened his tense hand from his sword hilt as Nacoya descended upon her mistress, scolding even as she made her obligatory bow.
‘My Lady, just look at your clothes!’ The former nurse turned her eyes heavenward in despair.
Surprised, Mara glanced at her lounging robe, draped open in the heat, and showing dust about the collar from her earlier visit to the cho-ja hive.
‘And your hair!’ Nacoya ranted on, now shaking a wizened finger in reproach. ‘A mess! All tangles, when it should be shiny-clean and scented. We’re going to need a dozen maids, at least.’ Then, as if noticing Keyoke’s and Arakasi’s presence at the same time, she clucked in renewed affront. ‘Out!’ she cried. ‘Your mistress must be made presentable very quickly.’
‘Nacoya!’ Mara snapped. ‘What gives you cause to descend upon my private council and order my officers about like house staff? And why is the matter of my personal appearance suddenly so urgent?’
Nacoya stiffened like a stung jigabird. ‘By Lashima most holy, Lady, how could you forget? How could you?’
‘Forget?’ Mara shoved back a fallen strand of hair in honest confusion. ‘Forget what?’
Nacoya huffed, speechless at last. Arakasi intervened very gently and answered for her. ‘The little grandmother most likely refers to Hokanu of the Shinzawai, whose retinue I passed on the road from Sulan-Qu.’
The Acoma First Adviser now recovered poise with acerbity. ‘That young gentleman’s letter of inquiry has sat on your desk for a week, my Lady. You answered him with an acceptance, and now you offer him insult by not being ready to greet him upon his arrival.’
Mara used a word not at all in keeping with her station. This brought another squawk from Nacoya and an outright grin from Kevin, whose