a little breathless. She pirouetted like a girl and sat on the cushions. Kevin followed her, his hair still tousled and his face more guardedly sober. Nacoya regarded him closely for a moment. Then, her lips pursed in mild disapproval, she turned upon her mistress.
'My Lady, you must excuse your slave.'
Mara looked up, her first flush of surprise changing to annoyance. 'First Adviser, I shall do as I please with my slave.'
Nacoya bowed deeply in respect for her mistress's prerogative. Then she went on as though Kevin were not present. 'Daughter of my heart, you now have learned the wonder of sex. This is good. And you are not the first great Lady who has used a slave. It is not only useful, it is even wise, for no slave can use you. However, Desio of the Minwanabi will be waiting to take advantage of every weakness, however small. You must not make mistakes and let the pleasures of the flesh grow into infatuation. This Midkemian should be sent away to keep your thinking clear, and you should take one or two different men to your bed soon, to learn they are merely . . . useful.'
Mara stood motionless, with her back turned. 'I find this discussion inopportune. Leave me at once, Nacoya.'
The First Adviser of the Acoma returned a deeper bow.
'Your will, Lady.' Stiffly she arose, and with a last lingering glare at Kevin she left the room. As the indignant tap of her sandals faded down the hall, Mara motioned to her slave.
'Join me,' she invited. Then she shed her loosened robe and dropped naked upon the cushions of the mat that served as her bed. 'Show me again how the men in your land love their women.'
Kevin returned his familiar wry grin. Then he raised his eyes toward heaven in a show of mock appeal. 'Pray to your gods to give me the strength,' he murmured. Then he slipped off his shirt and his drawers, and joined her.
Later, when the lamps burned low, Mara lay awake in the clasp of Kevin's arms and reflected upon the joy she had found in the midst of so many worries. She reached out and smoothed back her lover's tousled hair. She regarded the punctures traced across his shoulder by the sharpened thorns of the kekali; the wounds were slight, already scabbed over. Only then did Mara appreciate the bittersweet nature of the love that had overtaken her at last.
Kevin was, and always would be, a slave. There were certain unarguable absolutes in her culture, and that fact was one.
Caught up in a moment of melancholy, and frowning at: the waining moon through the screen, Mara wondered whether the bad luck that had brought down her- brother' and father might not stalk her yet. Desperately she prayed to j Lashima that the blood from Kevin's scratches had not seeped through his shirt and touched the ground. Lord Desio of the Minwanabi had sworn the vengeance of his house into the hands of Turakamu. And with or without invitation, the Death God walked where he would. If he; chose to favour the Minwanabi, the Acoma would be swept t away without trace from the land and the memory of man.
Target.
Mara stirred.
Her hand brushed warm flesh, and she started awake.
In the predawn gloom, she saw Kevin as a figure of greys and blacks. He was not asleep but propped on one elbow looking at her. 'You're very beautiful,' he said.
Mara smiled drowsily and snuggled into the crook of his elbow. She felt tired but content. Through the months since Kevin had come to her bed, she had discovered new aspects to herself, a sensual side, a tender side, kept hidden away until now. The pleasures she shared with the barbarian made the brutalities of her marriage seem a distant and unpleasant dream.
Playfully she ran her fingers through the hair on Kevin's chest. She had come to value their morning chat after lovemaking as much as council with her advisers. In ways not fully realized, she was learning from him. His nature was far more guarded than she had guessed upon first impression; she now understood that his direct and open manner stemmed from a cultural surface trait that masked an inner privacy. Kevin remained intentionally vague about his previous life and family, and though she asked often, he avoided talk of the future, as if he concealed his plans in that regard, as well. Different as he was from a born Tsurani,