Thin fingers clasped at his belt, Incomo bowed low and departed from a bath chamber that suddenly seemed crowded with steam and scented slave girls. As his slippered feet whispered down the corridors, he ruminated sadly on ~
Tasaio's loss of favour. No stranger to Minwanabi excesses, ncomo knew by his sour stomach that the day's bloodletting had struck a responsive chord in Desio. The master was :`acting more the bold Lord with each passing day; but if his future choices followed his taste for the hounds, Incomo felt Minwanabi fortunes would not be better for it. Undeniably Jingu's excesses had brought the House to the brink of disaster. Sighing at the trials forced upon mortals by the whims of gods and capricious masters, Lord Desio's First Adviser retired to his quarters. He stretched on his cushions to nap, but the bloodthirsty baying of hounds marred his rest and his dreams.
Chapter 12 Celebration
The boy screamed.
Kevin yelled back as he dodged away between flower beds. Ayaki gave chase, shouting Acoma battle cries in a boyish imitation of bloodlust. At times he became too intense, and Kevin would reverse course, capture the boy in his arms, and tickle him. Then Ayaki would shriek in delight and fill the garden with his laughter.
Mara allowed herself pleasure at the sight of their play.
Kevin was often a mystery to her, despite their years of intimacy, but one thing she knew: without doubt the man was devoted to her son. His companionship was good for Ayaki; approaching seven years of age, the boy had a tendency toward brooding, intensified during his mother's lengthy absence. But Ayaki could not lapse into dark moods with the Midkemian near. For as if he sensed the onset of the boy's troubled thoughts, Kevin was instantly diverting him with a fanciful story or riddle, a game or physical contest.
Through the months since her return from Tsubar, Ayaki became more the boy Mara remembered. She reflected with wistfulness that Kevin could not have shown more affection had he been the child's father. Putting aside daydreams, she returned her attention to the document with its weighty seals and ribbons.
Motionless in the shade before her, Arakasi awaited his mistress's response. Finally Mara said, 'Must we go?'
Arakasi stayed quiet as the leaves in the still air as he answered. 'Imperial peace will be enforced, so no overt threat can be mounted.'
uOvert,' she said. 'That is scant reassurance against Minwanabi plotting. Need I remind you the first attempt upon my life was by an assassin of the Red Hands of the Flower Brotherhood in my own contemplation glade?'
The event had occurred before Arakasi's service, yet he knew the story well. He inclined his head. 'Mistress, there is a good chance Desio will behave. Your standing in the council is the highest in memo", higher than your father's, if truth be told. And our remaining agents in the Minwanabi house have sent us word that Jiro of the Anasati visited with Desio not two weeks ago.'
Mara raised her eyebrows. 'Go on.'
Dapples of sunlight slid across Arakasi's face as he sipped at a cup of fruit juice. 'Our agents were unable to overhear them directly, but after Jiro departed, Desio raged for an entire day, complaining bitterly that he would not be dictated to in his own house by a rival family. From this we might surmise that Tecuma of the Anasati has sent his son to warn against precipitate actions against his grandson.'
Mara glanced at Ayaki, shrieking his enthusiasm as he leaped upon the now prone Kevin. 'Perhaps. Though I find it difficult to believe Tecuma would send his second son. Jiro's hatred of me is no secret.'
Arakasi shrugged. 'Possibly Tecuma sent his son to emphasize his serious intentions.'
The flowers' perfume suddenly seemed oppressive.
'Emphasize to whom?' Mara said. 'Desio or Jiro?'
Arakasi showed a faint smile. 'Perhaps both.'
Mara shifted on her cushions. 'I would like to know for certain before I risk a trip to the Holy City.'
Her restlessness signalled decision, intuitively grasped by Arakasi. 'Mistress, I think I had best be present when you attend this celebration to honour the Light of Heaven. For reasons that elude my network, the Blue Wheel Party's sudden reversal of loyalty has vaulted the Warlord into an almost unassailable position. Almecho can dictate to the council now, and should Ichindar break tradition - as gossip says he might - and