inquiry.
The screen whipped back to admit the dishevelled Acoma First Adviser in a red-faced state of agitation. Keyoke settled back on his cushions and loosened his tense hand from his sword hilt as Nacoya descended upon her mistress, scolding even as she made her obligatory bow.
'My Lady, just look at your clothes!' The former nurse turned her eyes heavenward in despair.
Surprised, Mara glanced at her lounging robe, draped open in the heat, and showing dust about the collar from her earlier visit to the cho-ja hive.
'And your hair!' Nacoya ranted on, now shaking a wizened finger in reproach. 'A mess! All tangles, when it should be shiny-clean and scented. We're going to need a dozen maids, at least.' Then, as if noticing Keyoke's and Arakasi's presence at the same time, she clucked in renewed affront. 'Out!' she cried. 'Your mistress must be made presentable very quickly.'
'Nacoya!' Mara snapped. 'What gives you cause to descend upon my private council and order my officers about like house staff ? And why is the matter of my personal appearance suddenly so urgent?'
Nacoya stiffened like a stung jigabird. 'By Lashima most holy, Lady, how could you forget? How could you?'
'Forget?, Mara shoved back a fallen strand of hair in honest confusion. 'Forget what?'
Nacoya huffed, speechless at last. Arakasi intervened very gently and answered for her. 'The little grandmother most likely refers to Hokanu of the Shinzawai, whose retinue I passed on the road from Sulan-Qu.'
The Acoma First Adviser now recovered poise with acerbity. 'That young gentleman's letter of inquiry has sat on your desk for a week, my Lady. You answered him with an acceptance, and now you offer him insult by not being ready to greet him upon his arrival.'
Mara used a word not at all in keeping with her station.
This brought another squawk from Nacoya and an outright grin from Kevin, whose command of Tsurani obscenities had been learned from a particularly colourful slave driver and remained his most comprehensive vocabulary.
Nacoya vented her frustration by clapping sharply for Mara's bath attendants. Through the resulting pandemonium as slave girls descended with basins and towels, and armloads of fine jewelled clothing, Mara dismissed her Force Commander. While three sets of hands removed her clothing, she fought one wrist free and gestured at the bundled silk samples brought from the cho-ja hive.
'Arakasi, decide what to do with these. Jican will tell you when they're due to arrive at Jamar. Contrive some subterfuge to get them there unnoticed.'
The Spy Master returned an unobtrusive bow and departed with the bundle. Kevin remained. Forgotten in his place behind his mistress's cushions, he spent the next minute being tantalized by the sight of Mara standing in her tub while her servants poured hot water over her lithe body.
Then she sat slowly, gracefully. While she rested in the tub, her woman servants soaping her down and washing her hair, Kevin repeatedly caught glimpses of nude flesh.
Motionless in the corner, he inwardly cursed the inadequate coverage of his brief Tsurani garment, as the sight of his pretty young mistress caused his manhood to rise up again in appreciation. Like an embarrassed kitchen boy, he stood with both hands folded before his groin and tried to focus on unpleasant thoughts to bring his unruly body back under control.
When the Lady of the Acoma emerged at speed from the attentions of her maids and bath servants, Kevin followed in his accustomed place, mostly because no one in authority had bothered to tell him otherwise. Jewelled, primped, and clad in a fine overrobe sewn with seed pearls and emeralds, Mara was far too agitated to note the barbarian slave who had been a part of her retinue for almost a month now. She swept through the hallways with a frown pinching the skin between her eyebrows. Kevin, grown familiar enough to guess at her moods, determined that this Hokanu of the Shinzawai came for something outside the usual social visit.
In many ways, Mara preferred involved financial discussions with her hadonra to meeting the social obligations that fell to her as ruler of a time-honoured Tsurani house.
At Nacoya's furiously whispered reminder, Mara slowed her step before the entry to the enclosed courtyard, which at this hour was the coolest place in which to make a guest comfortable. The First Adviser patted her charge's wrist and delivered last-minute instructions. 'Be charming with this man, daughter of my heart, but do not underestimate his perception. He is no importunate boy like poor Bruli, to