Janny Wurts - The Complete Empire Trilogy

‘No!’ Her shout echoed over the lake as the last board collapsed beneath her. She did not scream. As she plunged through the darkness, she cried, ‘I curse you –’ and then her body struck the tiles. Mara closed her eyes. Still clenching a drawn sword, Shimizu stood stunned and tormented. The woman he had cherished lay dead below.

The moonlight shone uninterrupted across a vacant expanse of balcony, framed by broken supports. Mara shivered and stirred, then raised stunned eyes to the warrior, who seemed locked like a statue in grief. ‘What happened to my honour guard?’ she asked.

Shimizu seemed not to hear. He turned half-dazed from the balcony and bent unfriendly eyes upon Mara. ‘You will provide evidence that Teani was an Anasati spy, my Lady.’

Mara pushed damp hair from her face, too shaken and too preoccupied to react to the threat in his tone. Her goal, vengeance for her father, her brother, and even Papewaio, lay very close at hand. If only she could wring an admission from Shimizu – the Strike Leader could not hope to hide the fact that he had been forced to kill Teani to defend the oath of guest safety. Since the concubine had initiated the attack, Jingu could be accused of betrayal; for upon Mara’s arrival half the guests present had overheard his announcement that Teani was a privileged member of his household.

Shimizu took a threatening step forward. ‘Where is your proof?’

Mara looked up, relief at her own survival making her careless in her reply. ‘But I have no proof. Teani was an Anasati spy, but my claim of written evidence was only a gambler’s bluff.’

Shimizu glanced quickly to either side, and with a jolt of renewed dread, Mara remembered. Nacoya had left to find help. No observers remained to witness whatever happened in the room.

‘Where is Arakasi?’ she repeated, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

Shimizu stepped forward. His manner changed from stunned horror to resolve, and his fingers tightened on his weapon. ‘You have no further need of an honour guard, Lady of the Acoma.’

Mara retreated, her feet tangling in cushions. ‘Warrior, after all that has passed this night, would you dare compromise the honour of your master beyond doubt?’

Shimizu’s expression remained stony as he lifted his sword. ‘Who is to know? If I say that you killed Teani, and I was honour-bound to defend her, there are no other witnesses to challenge me.’

Mara kicked clear of the cushions. Shimizu advanced another step, backing her helplessly against the carry boxes. Terrified by his passionate logic, and chilled by realization that his mad, clever plan might create enough confusion to spare Jingu’s honour, she tried to stall him with words. ‘Then you killed Arakasi?’

Shimizu leaped across the massed expanse of cushions. ‘Lady, he sought to keep me from my duty.’

His blade rose, glittering in the moonlight. Out of resources, and cornered without hope, Mara drew the small knife she kept hidden in her sleeve.

She raised her hand to throw, and Shimizu sprang. He struck with the flat of his sword; smashed from her grasp, the knife rattled across the floor and lay beyond reach by the balcony doors.

The sword rose again. Mara threw herself to the floor. Darkened by the shadow of her attacker, she screamed, ‘Nacoya!’ while silently beseeching Lashima’s protection for Ayaki, and the continuance of the Acoma line.

But the old nurse did not answer. Shimizu’s sword whistled downward. Mara twisted, bruising herself against the carry boxes as the blade sliced into the sleeping mat. Mara struggled, pinned helplessly against unyielding boxes of goods. The next cut from Shimizu’s sword would end her life.

But suddenly another sword rose over Shimizu’s head. This weapon was familiar, and ineptly handled as it carved a shining arc in the moonlight and crashed upon the neck of her attacker. Shimizu’s hands loosened. His sword wavered, then fell from his fingers, to splash point first through the leather side of a carry box.

Mara screamed as the huge warrior toppled, his plumes raking her side as he crashed upon the floor. One pace behind, and staggering to a stop, Arakasi employed the sword he had lately used as a club for a prop to steady himself. He managed a drunk-looking bow. ‘My Lady.’

Blood flowed from a scalp wound, down the side of his face and along his jaw, the result of a blow that must have knocked him unconscious in the corridor. Mara caught her breath with a soft cry, half-relief, half-terror. ‘You look a fright.’

The Spy Master wiped at his face and his hand came away red. He managed the ghost of a grin. ‘I dare say I do.’

Mara struggled with partial success to regain her poise. Reaction left her giddy. ‘You have to be the first man to wear the plumes of an Acoma officer who does not know the edge from the flat of the blade. I am afraid Shimizu will sport a bruise as handsome as any he gave you, come morning.’

Arakasi shrugged, his expression caught between triumph and deep personal grief. ‘Had he lived, Papewaio intended to improve my technique. His shade will have to be satisfied with the ruin of the Minwanabi instead.’ Then, as if he had admitted a grief he might rather have kept to himself, the Spy Master silently helped his mistress to her feet.

Voices sounded in the corridor. Indignant and shrill, the words of Jingu and his son Desio carried clearly over the confused tones of the guests. Mara straightened her disarranged robes. She bent, dislodged Shimizu’s sword from the carry box, and met the crowd of nobles and servants as a true daughter of the Acoma.

Jingu stamped explosively through the opened screen. ‘What has happened here?’ He stopped, open-mouthed at the sight of his prone Strike Leader, then glared wrathfully at the Lady of the Acoma. ‘You have brought treachery to my house.’

Onlookers crowded around, their clothing disarrayed from their hasty rush from their sleeping mats. Mara ignored them. She bowed with formal grace and placed Shimizu’s sword at the feet of the Lord of the Minwanabi. ‘I swear by my life and the name of my ancestors that the treachery done is not mine. Your concubine Teani tried to kill me, and for love of her your Strike Leader Shimizu lost his wits. My honour guard, Arakasi, was forced to intervene. He barely saved my life. Is this the way the Minwanabi answer for the safety of their guests?’

A murmur arose from the onlookers, the voice of the Lord of the Ekamchi loudest among them. ‘The warrior is not dead! When he rouses, he might say the Acoma tell lies under oath.’

Jingu gestured irritably for silence. He glared at Mara with pale, cold eyes. ‘As my servant Teani lies dead on the tiles below, I would hear what my officer Shimizu has to say upon this matter.’

Mara gave no sign that, by implying that she had lied under oath, Jingu had offered gravest insult. No honour could be gained by reacting to the words of a condemned man; and all present understood that if Mara’s charge were proved, the Lord of the Minwanabi would have no standing among them. His honour would be as dust, and his influence in the Game of the Council come to nothing.

‘My First Adviser, Nacoya, witnessed the attack by the concubine.’ Mara summoned every scrap of poise she had learned from the sisters at the temple. ‘Your own Strike Leader had to defend me to protect your honour. Had Teani not fallen to her death below, I would have had to kill her with my own hands to save myself.’

Someone by the door murmured a comment in her favour. Outraged, Desio pushed forward, only to be shoved aside by the hand of his father. Jingu dared a smile, like a dog who has stolen meat and escaped receiving the blame. ‘Lady Mara, if you have no other witness, you have no accusation to make. For if Shimizu says that you attacked Teani, and he came to her defence, and you say that Teani attacked you, and Arakasi came to yours, the case rests upon the word of your First Adviser against that of my Strike Leader. They are of equal rank, and by law their word carries equal weight. Who among us can determine which of them is lying?’