such a threat unattended on her southern border. As her vassal, Jidu could make no alliances without Acoma sanction. The honour of his house would be entrusted to Mara's hands, and those of Mara's heirs, for the span of Lord Jidu's living days. Her sovereignty would become such that he could not fall upon his sword without her leave to die.
'You drive hard and dangerous bargains, Lady Mara,' the Lord of the Tuscalora warned. Should the Tuscalora effectively be reduced to a pawn for Acoma ambitions, his clan and fellow members of the Yellow Serpent Party would be less willing to treat with her because of Acoma domination over one of their own.
'The Great Game is a dangerous undertaking,' Mara replied. Her words were not empty platitude; Arakasi kept her informed of politics afield. If clan or party action brewed up against her family, she would hear well in advance of the fact. Her heart might be divided, concerning Jidu, but her options stayed unequivocally clear. 'I choose to take your oath, Lord Jidu.'
The ruler of the Tuscalora bowed his head. Pearl ornaments chinked on his clothing as he knelt in submission, to recite the formal words. Mara signalled, and Lujan stepped from the ranks, the rare metal sword of her ancestors in his hands. As the Acoma Strike Leader poised the shining blade over Jidu's bent neck, the Lord swore his oath of vassalage, his voice hard and deep with pent-up hatred, and his fists clenched helplessly in rage. He ended the last phrase and arose. 'Mistress.' He pronounced the word as if he tasted poison. 'I ask your leave to withdraw.'
On impulse, Mara withheld her consent. While Lord Jidu flushed red, and her honour guard went from ready to tensely nervous, she weighed her need for control against her wish to ease this man's humiliation. 'A moment, Jidu,'
she said finally. As he looked up, suspicious, Mara strove to impart understanding. 'The Acoma need allies, not slaves.
Give up your resentment over my victory, and willingly join with me, and both of our families will benefit.' She sat back upon her seat, speaking as if to a trusted friend. 'Lord Jidu, my enemies would not treat you so gently. The Lord of the Minwanabi demands Tan-jin-qu of his vassals.; The word she used was ancient, describing an absolute vassalage that granted the overlord powers of life and death over the members of a subservient household. Under Tan-jin-qu, not only would Jidu become Mara's vassal, he would be her virtual slave. 'Bruli of the Kehotara refused to continue that abject service to the Minwanabi when he inherited his office, and as a result, Desio withholds many of the protections the Kehotara have known for years. Bruli suffers because he wishes the appearance of independence. I do not shame you by demanding the lives of all your subjects, Jidu.'
The stout Lord conceded this point with a curt nod, but his anger and humiliation did not lessen. His was not an enviable position, to be at the mercy of a woman he had once tried to kill. Yet something in Mara's sincerity caused him to listen.
'I will establish policies that benefit both our houses,'
Mara decreed, 'but the daily affairs of your estates remain yours to oversee. Profits from your chocha-la harvest shall stay in the Tuscalora coffers. Your house will pay no tribute to the Acoma. I shall ask nothing from you save your honour to serve ours.' Then, given insight on how she might mollify this enemy, Mara added, 'My belief in Tuscalora honour is such that I shall entrust the protection of our southern borders to your troops. All Acoma guards and patrols will be withdrawn from the boundary of our two lands.'
Keyoke's expression did not change at this development, but he scratched his chin with his thumb, in a long-standing secret code of warning.
Mara reassured her Force Commander with a suggestion of a smile. Then her attention returned to Lord Jidu. 'I see you do not trust that friendship might-exist between us. I will show my good intentions. To celebrate our alliance, we shall mount a new prayer gate at the entrance to your estate, in glory to Chochocan. This will be followed by a gift of one hundred thousand centuries to clear your past debts, that the profits from this year's harvest may be used for the good of your estate.'
Nacoya's eyes widened at the amount, fully a fifth of the funds being forwarded from the