be Desio's style,' a dry voice said from the doorway that opened onto the outer pathways. Arakasi stepped in through the partially opened screen, a shadow against the misty grey of dawn.
Mara barely managed to repress her surprise; Keyoke and the guards in the hallway all lowered their hands from their weapons. The Spy Master bowed and chose a place among the advisers, and the furrow over his brows indicated he had more to say. Mara indicated her permission, and the Spy Master sat at the table, his long fingers folded in his lap.
He continued as if his presence had been expected all along. 'Except that the young Lord of the Minwanabi has not held power for long enough to evolve much style.' As if he were still formulating his conclusion, the Spy Master stroked the merchant's plaited scalp lock he had cultivated for his latest guise on the road. 'One thing is clear, though: Desio is spending huge sums of money upon something. The markets from here to Ambolina are choked with Minwanabi goods, and from the scant information from our clerk in Desio's employ, I would presume the unaccounted money is being invested in gifts, bribes, or favours.'
Agitated at this news, Mara chewed her lip. 'Bribes for what?' she mused softly. 'There must be some means of finding out.'
Keyoke's deep voice interrupted. 'This morning, my soldiers caught a strange herder lurking in the needra fields that border the Tuscalora estates. They took him for questioning, but he died on his dagger rather than name his true master.'
Arakasi's eyes slitted speculatively as Nacoya said, 'He was probably one of Lord Jidu's spies, sent to check the guard on the bridge across the gorge.' The First Adviser pursed her lips, as if thought of the Acoma's southern neighbour brought a bad taste to her mouth. 'The Tuscalora chocha-la harvest is nearly ready for market, and by now even Jidu's thick-witted hadonra must guess that his wagons will not be using Mara's bridge to reach the road without paying toll for their passage.'
The Spy Master leaned sharply forward. 'I would not count on the possibility that herder was Jidu's.'
Mara nodded. 'Neither do I take your hunches lightly, Arakasi.To Keyoke she added, 'We must send a patrol to guard Lord Jidu's borders - unobtrusively, of course.
His warriors are good, but they may not realize how much my enemieS might gain if their master's crops burned.'
Keyoke nodded, the hands at rest upon his sword unmoving as he contemplated this touchy assignment.
Jidu of the Tuscalora might be lax in his spending habits, but his soldiers were fine warriors. ~y
Jican diffidently offered advice on this point. 'Lord Jidu hires migrant workers from Neskesha to help with ~
harvest, when his crop is abundant. This has been q bountiful year. Perhaps some of the warriors could disguise themselves as chocha-la pickers and infiltrate the workers u.
the fields. The overseers would not know every strange face; and since our men would be drawing no pay, their presence'
might pass unnoticed for many days.'
Keyoke expanded this proposition. 'Better, and for o - : warriors' honour, we could stage battle manoeuvres in the meadows beside Lord Jidu's estates. Our own workers can infiltrate the groups of Tuscalora pickers, and if trouble arises, they could slip away and alert our troops.'
Mara nodded decisively. 'Let this be done.' She dismissed; her advisers, assuring Jican she would study the finance papers brought for her review after the midday meal.
Then, atypically vague and aimless, Mara retired to the garden, seeking solace. But the paths between the flowering kekali bushes seemed lonely and empty in the morning light; The growing heat of day oppressed her. As the Lady wandered among the fragrant akasi blooms, her thoughts returned to her nights in Kevin's arms. Her feelings at the time had seemed so profoundly right, and now his absence made her ache, as if a piece of her being were missing. She contrived a thousand excuses to send for him - only for a moment, to answer a question, to play with Ayaki, to clarify some obscure rule in the game his people called knucklebones . . .
Mara's eyes sheered over with tears, and she misstepped, stumbling over a raised stone in the path. Her musing dissolved into anger; she needed no reason, she was Mara, Ruling Lady of the Acoma! She could order her slaves where she would without explanation to anyone. Then. wakened to her own folly before she gave in to impulse,