messenger awaits your attendance.'
The flush of anger drained out of Mara's cheeks. 'Find Lujan and send him to me at once,' she instructed the runner. As though she had forgotten Kevin's existence and the fact she had been deadlocked in an argument only seconds before, she spun on her heel and departed down the corridOr in almost unseemly haste.
Kevin, predictably, followed after. 'What's going on?'
She didn't answer, and the runner slave had dashed beyond earshot. Undeterred, Kevin lengthened stride until he overtook his diminutive mistress. He tried another tack.
'What's an imperial messenger?'
'Bad news,' Mara returned shortly. 'At least, this close upon the heels of a Minwanabi attack, a message from the Emperor, the Warlord, or the High Council speaks of a great move in the game.'
Mara skirted the bows of a cluster of house slaves bent over buckets and brushes, scrubbing the lacquered wood floor. She crossed the atrium that led toward the great doubled doors to the hall, and Kevin followed. His Lady's poise had seemed brittle since the return of Lujan's companies.
The purpose of the Minwanabi raid, she insisted, had not been simply to ruin her silk in the marketplace.
Being unable to follow every twist of Tsurani politics, which to his Kingdom mind still seemed convolutedly illogical, Kevin was determined to stay at Mara's side. What threatened her threatened him, and his feelings toward her were protective.
The great hall held the damp in the mornings, and the old stone floor transmitted chill even through the soles of leather sandals. Crossing the echoing expanse of empty space, shuttered into gloom by closed screens, Kevin saw Nacoya awaiting on the dais and heard Lujan's step enter from the passage behind. But the barbarian's attention stayed riveted ahead where, even in the dimness, the sparkle of ~old stood out. an unexpected and unnerving sight in a land where heavy metals were a rarity.
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