Janny Wurts - The Complete Empire Trilogy - Daughter of the Empire, Mistress of the Empire, Servant of the Empire

The old Queen twitched her jaws, as if divining Mara’s intent. ‘In the normal course of things, two to three years.’

Fatigue returning in numbing waves. Mara’s mind drifted, and she forced herself to apply something said earlier by the old Queen. ‘I would like to bid for additional workers and warriors to be sent with your daughter.’ Careful to conceal her exhaustion, Mara stepped steadily back to her litter. She entered, and motioned to a slave to hold the curtains back to keep an unobstructed view of the two queens. Settled upon her cushions – and hoping she didn’t appear too wilted – Mara said, ‘I would talk terms.’

‘That is wise,’ answered the Queen. ‘The young warriors are fractious; older, more experienced soldiers will be needed to bring them quickly to order at the new hive.’

Mara’s heart leaped in pleasure; she had understood the old Queen’s comments on the nature of the cho-ja. Behind her, Keyoke murmured his astonishment. ‘They barter their own!’

The old Queen showed keener hearing than expected by saying, ‘Only the hive matters, Force Commander. And I am the hive. Those I sell will serve your Lady as they would serve me. She will be their new Queen.’

Mara said, ‘I wish only that your daughter have a stronger hive, as soon as possible. I buy workers and warriors as a gift for her.’

The old Queen nodded. ‘That is generous. I will keep that in mind as I set my price.’

Mara took a moment to consult her advisers. Then, making sure her shoulders didn’t droop, she spoke to the Queen. ‘I have need for twenty of your warriors, Majesty. I would also ask for artisans.’

Keyoke straightened in surprise. ‘I thought we came for warriors, my Lady?’

Mara assumed a faraway look, as she often had lately; as the Acoma position stabilized, she strove to plan for the future; more and more, she kept her own counsel. But an old and valued adviser deserved an explanation. ‘Since my betrothal to the Anasati son, our position is safe for the present. This young Queen can breed more warriors, in time. But their most valued skill is not inborn, I think. What I want is silk-makers.’

The Queen matriarch reared up as high as her immobile rear segment allowed. ‘For the makers of silk to be given over to you would cost greatly.’

Mara returned a half bow, that her boldness might not offend. ‘What price?’

The Queen waved her forelegs for a long moment. ‘A hundred bags of thyza for each worker.’

‘Agreed,’ said Mara without hesitation. ‘I require five such workers.’

But the old Queen clicked scoldingly at Mara’s haste. ‘You must also give one thousand swords, one thousand helmets, and one thousand shields, to be shipped upon your arrival home.’

Mara frowned. Since Jican was a competent manager, she had finances to buy what was not on hand in the warehouse. ‘Agreed.’ The bargain was hard, but fair; in time a flourishing silk trade would repay the expenditure many times over. Anxious now to deliver her news to Jican and Nacoya, Mara said, ‘When will the Queen depart?’

The matriarch conferred with her daughter, then answered, ‘Not until the autumn.’

Mara inclined her head in a gesture of respect. ‘Then I will leave at dawn and set about fulfilling our obligation to you. My workers will see that the needra are moved and the meadow is clipped and made ready, that the Queen your daughter will be welcome upon her arrival.’

The Queen matriarch signalled dismissal. ‘Go, then, Mara of the Acoma. May your gods grant you prosperity and honour, for you have dealt graciously with our kind.’

Mara spoke through a profound feeling of relief. ‘And may your hive continue to grow in prosperity and honour.’

Lax’l stepped forward to guide the humans to the surface, and the Queen’s bright eyes turned away, absorbed once more with hive matters and the complex decisions of breeding. Able to give in to exhaustion, and shaking slightly from hours of sustained stress, Mara sank back into the cushions of her litter. She gestured, and her company moved to depart. During her ride towards the surface, she felt like laughing aloud, then like crying. Seeds now sown might someday bring forth rich fruit, for she had won the means to expand upon Jican’s already impressive financial base. The silk trade in the south was not yet an established industry. Northern silk varied in quality and availability. Mara did not know how to convince this young Queen to turn silk production into the major speciality of her hive, but she would endeavour to find a means. Produced near the major southern markets, Acoma silk might someday come to dominate the trade.

Then, as her bearers bore her along the dark, richly scented tunnels of the cho-ja hive, her euphoria dimmed. Barely two weeks remained for the elaborate preparations that a wedding of two great houses entailed. Although the past night’s efforts might add to the Acoma wealth, soon that wealth must be turned over to another, the son of one of her most bitter enemies. Mara brooded in the privacy of her litter; of her acts since the death of her father and brother, her marriage to Buntokapi posed the greatest risk of them all.

The last intersection fell behind, yet the tunnel did not darken. Through the thin curtains of her litter, Mara saw the arches of the entrance of the hive, with daylight shining brightly between. Negotiations with the cho-ja queens had lasted throughout the night. The girl’s eyes ached as they adjusted to the increased light, and her head swam with weariness. Content to lie back and doze while Keyoke marshalled his escort and readied the slaves and warriors for the long march home, she did not recognize trouble until her litter shuddered to a halt, followed by the hiss of weapons being drawn.

Alarmed, Mara sat up. She reached to draw open the curtains, just as a stranger’s voice rang out in anger.

‘You! Thief! Prepare to answer for your crimes!’

Chilled awake by fear and anger, Mara whipped the gauze aside. Keyoke and the Acoma warriors waited with drawn swords, ready to defend. Beyond them stood the white-haired Lord of the Inrodaka, red-faced, tousled, and furious from a night spent in the open. Swiftly Mara took stock of his retinue. She counted a full company of soldiers, two hundred at the least, and not all of them wore Inrodaka red. Fully half were armoured in the purple and yellow of the Ekamchi.

The old Lord thrust his jaw forward and pointed his decorative family sword. ‘Lady of the Acoma! How dare you trespass upon Inrodaka lands! Your audacity oversteps your strength, to the grief and shame of your name. For stealing the daughter Queen’s hive you shall be made to pay dearly.’

Mara met the accusation with a cool look of contempt. ‘Your words are without much thought, and of less honour.’ She glanced at the fat man at Inrodaka’s side, assuming him to be the Lord of the Ekamchi. ‘The lands surrounding this hive are unclaimed – have your hadonra check the archives in Kentosani, if you doubt me. And the cho-ja are no man’s slaves. They choose with whom they bargain. And to call one who bargains in good faith a thief is an insult demanding apology!’

Both Lords regarded the Acoma ruler. She might seem a young girl taken by a fit of pique, but in the face of the armed and able company waiting on her word to extract such apology, both men lost some of their fury. Still, they remained uncowed by Mara’s unexpected boldness. The Lord of the Inrodaka spluttered in indignation and his companion shook a pudgy fist. The unmannerly displays might have been comic except for the glowering rows of warriors and weapons behind them.

‘You have slighted me, caused me to break faith with a trusted ally,’ Inrodaka raged. Yet he seemed more inclined to speak than fight. ‘I had promised the Ekamchi exclusive rights to bargain with the daughter Queen, and by treachery you Acoma became privy to my secrets!’