undergo before she became practised in the Great Game. She proved so now, for she blushed. 'My Lord, the Acoma soldiers achieved only what was proper between allies. Little reward is required, beyond a formal swearing of alliance with witnesses upon our return to the mainland.'
She paused, dropped her eyes, and seemed more than ever the young girl. A slight frown creased her forehead, as she thought upon the matter and realized that she must ask something more of House Xacatecas, lest she leave a social superior with an implied debt of obligation. To leave such business unfinished was an unwise move that could strain further amicable relations. 'Lord Chipino,' she added formally, as if the matter were an embarrassment to her, 'for the actions of the Acoma on behalf of your house, I ask one boon: that, at a time of my choosing, you grant me your vote in the Imperial Council to be cast as I wish. Will this be acceptable?'
Lord Chipino inclined his head, well pleased. The request was a pittance, and the girl was cautious beyond her years, to keep her asking modest. He murmured a command, and his runner hurried to fetch his scribe, to set the matter officially under seal. To Mara's most appropriate response he added one thing more. 'Let a suit of fine armour be made for the barbarian slave, in Acoma colours, that he may serve his Lady in comfort the next time she requires to bait her traps with an honour guardsman.' Kevin smiled in appreciation of the dry Tsurani humour: he would never be permitted to wear this armour, but he would have it as a trophy of sorts. Then, the matter disposed of in lasting satisfaction of the debt, Chipino clapped for servants to bring food. 'You shall dine here,' he said, and he waved to indicate the barbarian slave was to be included. 'Together we shall drink fine spirits, to celebrate the defeat of our enemies.'
Mara woke to the touch of a hand shaking her shoulder briskly. She rolled over. Dark hair caught in her lashes, and she sighed, still deep in sleep.
'Lady, you must wake up,' Kevin said in her ear.
The bedding seemed much too warm and comfortable.
Reluctantly Mara stirred. Though weary still from the battle the previous day, and no little bit discomforted by the sa wine consumed with Lord Chipino to celebrate the victory, she forced her heavy eyes to open. 'What is it?'
Dawn greyed the sky beyond the tent flap, left open to catch the night breezes. In the sandy dunes of the low country, the temperature did not fall after sundown, as happened in the mountains. Mara blinked and rolled closer to Kevin's warmth. 'It's too early,' she protested, and began provocatively to tickle him.
'Lady,' the tall barbarian scolded gently. 'Lujan is waiting with a message.'
'What?' Now fully wakened, Mara sat up. Loose hair spilled like ribbons over her shoulders as she clapped sharply for a servant to bring a robe. Across the command tent, seen as a shadow against the lamplit antechamber, Lujan stalked the breadth of the carpet in long strides, his officer's helm crooked in his elbow. Quickly the Lady of the Acoma shoved her hands into waiting sleeves. She rose, leaving Kevin fumbling for his trousers, and hurried through the fringed partition between the rooms.
'What's amiss?' she said in response to Lujan's agitation.
The Acoma Strike Leader completed a swift bow. 'Lady.
Come quickly. I think the best thing would be for you to see for yourself.'
Made tolerant by curiosity; Mara followed her officer, pausing only to slip on the sandals brought to her by a servant as she stepped into the thin light of dawn.
Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she halted very quickly, colliding with Kevin, who hurried less gracefully after her. Involved with fastening his buttons, and still barefoot, he had not seen her stop.
Yet his clumsiness raised no imprecations. Mara was utterly absorbed by the sight of seven motley figures who descended the dunes just beyond the perimeter of her camp.
They were short, almost dwarf-like in stature. Their robes were fringed with beads of glass, horn, and jade, and their hair was braided. The ends were tasselled in colours, though the rest of their clothing was drab. And around the wrist of each, in varied and elaborate patterns, were blue tattoos like bracelets.
'They look like tribal chiefs,' Mare said in wonderment.
'So I thought,' Lujan replied. 'And yet they come alone, and unarmed.'