unreasonable.' Her gaze fastened unerringly upon Kevin's name, repeatedly scribed on the slates strewn around the floor. Narrowing her eyes as if trying to peer into her fosterdaughter' s heart, the former nurse said, 'Or love has.'
Now Mara did kick the cushion. It sailed through the screen and through close-woven branches of akasi; flower petals exploded in profusion, and a cloud of pollen showered the floor. 'Old woman, you try me beyond tolerance! Love has nothing to do with this. I'm angry because I allowed myself to send him away out of fear, and cowardice of any sort is unacceptable.'
Nacoya fastened at once on the key phrase. 'Fear . . . a barbarian slave?'
'I feared his blasphemous opinions on the working of Fate's Wheel, and the effect that attitude might have upon my son. And I'm put out with myself for feeling this. Kevin is my property, is he not? I may have him sold or killed at my whim, yes?' Mara sighed in frustration. 'For these last two months I've had his behaviour watched, and he has conducted himself well. The fields are at long last clear, and not one of his countrymen has been hanged to speed things along. And the entire time he has shown the proper respect toward his superiors.'
Nacoya's sternness softened. She considered her mistress's fevered eyes and the flush on her cheeks, then regrettably concluded that little more could be done. The girl had come to love the barbarian. Though Mara still didn't understand that fact yet, neither tact nor reason could turn back time. Against any sane judgment, Kevin would be back by nightfall.
Nacoya shut her eyes in long-suffering patience. The timing could hardly be worse, with news of a coming Minwanabi offensive just delivered from Arakasi's able hands. But one could not fault a young woman for turning to comfort in a crisis. Nacoya could only pray that Mara would tire of the slave quickly, or at least learn that nothing more than sexual release could come from such a relationship.
The Lady must see reason, and give attention to more appropriate suitors. Once married to a man of rank, firm on her seat as Ruling Lady with a fit consort at her side, Mara could sleep with anyone she chose - her husband must accept this was a right of her office, as mistresses would be for a Ruling Lord. But finding a consort, that was the problem.
Since the shaming of poor Bruli of the Kehotara a year before, most young noblemen shied clear of the Ruling Lady of the Acoma; Tsurani street gossip consistently took the breath away with its detailed accounts of what occurred in supposedly private bedchambers. While only a handful of servants had witnessed Bruli's embarrassment, within days every street vendor in the Central Provinces had repeated the tale.
Perhaps some potential suitors had learned of that incident and decided the strong-willed Lady was more trouble than her wealth and title were worth, or perhaps lingering suspicions regarding Lord Buntokapi's dishonour and death kept others away. Certainly a majority of potential suitors were simply waiting to see if Mara survived much longer.
Even someone as overt in his interest as Hokanu of the Shinzawai could not be expected to wait while Mara indulged in her follies. Each night that Mara dallied with Kevin was an hour she was unavailable to entertain noble sons. Nacoya threw up crabbed hands and made a disgusted sound through her nose. 'M,y Lady, if you must call him back, at least ask the herb woman to mix you a potion of barrenness. Bed sport is all to the good, but not if you have the misfortune to conceive accidentally.'
'Out!' Mare flushed red, then paled, then blushed again. 'I am calling my slave back for reprimand, not to indulge his rampant lust!'
Nacoya bowed and beat a retreat as quickly as her ancient bones allowed. In the hall she sighed. Reprimand for what?
For being efficient and showing respect to his betters? For extracting more work from his barbarian countrymen than anyone else had been able to do? With a look of unbreakable patience, Nacoya walked to the servants' building and called upon the herb woman herself, to ensure that an elixir of teriko weed would be left in the Lady's room by nightfall.
With the Minwanabi hot for Acoma blood, all the family needed for folly was a Ruling Lady burdened with a pregnancy.
The afternoon was well spent by the time the exhausted scribe returned