newly promoted officers. He staged manoeuvres in the fields, swamps, and woodlands and came back with chosen soldiers, to walk barefoot, their muddy war sandals in hand, through the main house to the chamber where Keyoke lay recovering.
The Adviser for War reviewed their performance, criticized their weaknesses, and praised their strengths. He spent the hours in between poring over maps of the estate and working out strategies of defence; from his mat he held classes for officer training. For no one doubted that Tasaio of the Minwanabi had contrived the Dustari campaign for no other reason than to leave the Acoma vulnerable.
Mara herself was everywhere, overseeing all aspects of the endeavour that prepared her army for departure. On the morning that Nacoya finally contrived to overtake her, with Kevin absent and no servants or advisers at hand, the Lady was seated in her garden by the fountain under the ulo tree.
She often used the place for informal meditation, but lately her free time had gone exclusively to her son. Nacoya peered surreptitiously at her Lady's quiet pose, and the frown that faintly marked the skin between her brows; she measured the hands, which were still, and judged the moment propitious for talk.
Nacoya entered the garden and bowed before her mistress.
Mara bade her rise and sit on the cushions with her. She regarded her First Adviser with eyes that had circles under them and said, 'I wrote the letter to Hokanu yesterday.'
The old woman nodded slowly. 'That is well, but not my reason for seeking you.'
Mara's frown deepened at the tone of her adviser's voice.
'What is it, mother of my heart?'
Nacoya loosed a deep sigh and plunged. 'Lady, I would suggest that you be thinking of choosing my successor. Do not think I dislike my duties, or that I feel the honour of my post as a burden. I serve my Lady gladly in all ways. But I am growing old, and it is in my heart to point out that you have no younger servants in training to assume the mantle of adviser when I am gone. Jican is middle-aged, but he lacks canniness in politics. Keyoke has the perception to take on the role of First Adviser, but he and I are of an age, and there will not always be a priest of Hantukama to defer the Red God's due.'
A breeze sighed through the ulo leaves, and water splashed in the fountain. Mara's fingers stirred against the loosened folds of her robe and gathered the fabric about her.
'I hear you, old mother. Your words are wise, and well considered. I have thought upon the issue of your replacement.'
She paused and softly shook her head. 'You know, Nacoya, that too many of our best people died with my father.'
Nacoya nodded. She gestured to the fountain. 'Life continually renews itself, daughter of my heart. You must find new minds, and train them.'
That was a risky venture, as both of them knew. To take on new servants and raise them to high levels of responsibility invited the chance for an enemy to infiltrate a new spy.
Arakasi's network was good, but not infallible. Yet the necessity could not be denied. Mara needed trusted people around her, or she would be too encumbered by everyday decisions to maintain her status in the Great Game.
'I will put effort into finding a new cadre of advisers, but after the campaign in Dustari is completed,' she concluded at last. 'If I return home, and the natami remains in the sacred glade, then we will search for new talent. But the risk is too great to be taken beforehand. Ayaki must be surrounded only by servants who were born here, and whose loyalty remains beyond question.'
Nacoya arose and bowed. 'My Lady's permission to leave?'
Mara smiled slightly at the stoop-shouldered figure of her adviser. 'Permission given. Take a nap, old mother. You look as if you could use it.'
'I just got up!' Nacoya snapped. 'Take a nap yourself, and without that needra stud of a barbarian for a change. When he's there you get no sleep, and you'll be needing thyza powder to cover the wrinkles that come before you're thirty.'
'Sex does not make wrinkles!' Mara laughed. 'That's an old nurse's tale. Don't you have duties? The day's messages to sort through ?'
'I do have that,' Nacoya conceded. 'You're getting more inquiries from suitors.'
At Sulan-Qu the Acoma host boarded barges. Naked slaves poled them downriver through the press of commercial traffic, and grain barges,