'None of this makes sense,' Chipino said, tugging the straps at his neck to loosen his dust-caked armour. He scratched the leathery skin of his throat, almost frowning, then wet his gullet with the tesh. Its sweetness rinsed the taste of the desert grit from his mouth and also eased his temper. 'Isashani wrote to me to say that Hokanu of the Shinzawai came visiting in Ontoset.'
Mara raised her eyebrows. 'Is your wife by chance trying to matchmake?'
Xacatecas laughed. 'Perpetually. But in this case with Hokanu's enthusiastic interest, so it would seem. The younger Shinzawai misses you. He asked after you, more than once.'
'And Isashani kept score?' Mare prompted. At Chipino's resigned nod, she added, 'What brought Hokanu to Ontoset? That's a bit far afield for him, I should think.'
'That's just what Isashani pointed out,' Chipino added.
'The interfering woman suggests that the young man came to trade for spices that can as easily be purchased in Jamar.'
Which implied he had gone specifically to speak with Lady Isashani to hear direct news of Dustari. Mara was unsure how to react to this, not certain that Hokanu's overt interest in news of her might not simply mask his father's latest ploy in the Great Game.
The thought was interrupted by the return of that day's officer of the watch, with the dispatches brought in by the scouts. He bowed in deference. Mara gave him permission to speak before her guest, saving herself the trouble of sending word across to the Xacatecas camp later.
'No findings to report, my Lady,' the armoured man recited, his plumed helm crooked in one dirty elbow. 'One man was injured in a rockslide, and two more were killed in an ambush. The wounded are being tended in the camp by the south mesa. The other five bands of scouts found nothing.'
Which added up to a loss that had no purpose, Mara concluded in silence. Needled by the progression of useless days, useless deaths, and no sign of change beyond attrition, she found her patience at an end. The nomads were just toying with them - about this Kevin was correct - but to sit and wait without action was unacceptable. Mara excused her tired officer from duty, then met the dark, sardonic eyes of the Lord of the Xacatecas. 'The Acoma offer one company, to march out in a foray beyond the foothills. My First Strike Leader, Migachti, will command, and a half patrol of cho-ja will go along to act as message bearers between here and the main camp.'
Lord Chipino of the Xacatecas inclined his head. He set his tesh cup on the low table, between the stone-weighted corners of the map scrolls, and the slates, and the ground-down ends of chalk, and reached for his sun-bleached helm.
'To the honour of our houses, and the ruin of enemies,' he intoned. 'I will send a company also, and a gift, to recompense for your cho-ja, whose abilities I cannot match from my own ranks. The hive on our lands had no warriors to spare, with the unrest of House Zirentari on the northern borders of our home estate.'
Mara did not venture the fact that she had bargained with her own Queen to breed extras; one did not divulge the unnecessary even to friends, for in the Great Game today's allies could be tomorrow's bitterest enemy. She arose out of politeness and bowed to her social superior, though between herself and the Lord the forms were not always observed in private. 'I waive the need for the gift.'
Lord Chipino studied her, squinting slightly in the spangled light thrown off by the pierced designs of the sconces. 'You are wrong,' he said gently, as he might perhaps have corrected a daughter. 'A woman in the beauty of her youth should never be permitted to languish in a desert without gifts.'
Mara flushed. She found no words to cover her intense moment of self-consciousness, so Lord Chipino smoothed over the embarrassment for her. 'Hokanu made Isashani promise to see that your charms were not forgotten in this desolate, barbarian land.'
The Lady of the Acoma laughed, freely, which was a change after two years that felt, in isolation, like captivity.
'You and Hokanu both are flatterers''
Chipino turned his head, then shoved his helm over rumpled grey h-air and left the chin strap hanging. 'Well, it's true there are no women here to exorcize that failing of mine. I'd flatter the querdidra mares, if I could.' He shrugged. 'But they spit. Do