Janny Wurts - Servant of the Empire

‘Passingly so.’ Arakasi turned at a slight step in the corridor, and seeing that the disturbance was nothing more than a servant approaching from the kitchen, he again faced his mistress. ‘Their customs are not like ours, Lady. If there are slaves in their culture, my guess is they are very different creatures from ours. But I digress from my purpose.’ His eyes grew suddenly sharp. ‘Desio of the Minwanabi at last begins to show his hand as Ruling Lord.’

The servant arrived at the doorway with platters of fruit and cold jigabird. Arakasi fell silent as Mara motioned for the tray to be placed on the table. ‘You must be hungry.’ She invited her Spy Master to take his ease upon the cushions. The servant departed silently, and for the moment all was quiet outside. Neither Mara nor her Spy Master reached for the dishes. The Lady of the Acoma spoke first. ‘Tell me of Desio.’

Arakasi became very still. His dark eyes showed no emotion at all, but his hands, so seldom betraying his mood, went tense. ‘The young Lord is not the player of the Great Game that his father was,’ he opened. ‘This if anything makes him more dangerous. With Jingu, my agents always knew where and when to listen. This is not so with the son. An experienced opponent is somewhat predictable. A novice may prove … innovative.’ He smiled slightly and nodded in Mara’s direction, acknowledging that her own successes bore out his observations. ‘He’s no creative thinker, but what Desio can’t gain by wit, he may yet bungle into having.’ The Spy Master poured himself a cup of jomach juice and took a tentative sip. He would find no poisons in this house, but the subject of the Minwanabi, as always, made him prickle with uneasiness and caution. Seeking a lighter tone, lest he needlessly alarm his young mistress, Arakasi added, ‘Desio has a lot of soldiers to bungle with.’

Mara considered her Spy Master’s mood, perhaps brought on by his own need for self-control, for to give his hatred free rein he would seek the destruction of his enemies without regard for the safety of any and all things near to him.

‘But Desio himself is weak, no matter how strong those who serve him.’ Arakasi abandoned his juice cup on the table. ‘He has inherited all his father’s passions, but not Jingu’s restraints. If not for Force Commander Irrilandi’s vigilance, his enemies might have torn through his defences and fed off his wealth like a pack of jagunas over a dead harulth,’ he said, referring to Kelewan’s doglike carrion eater and most feared predator: a giant, six-legged terror, all speed and teeth. Arakasi steepled his hands and looked keenly at Mara. ‘But Force Commander Irrilandi kept his patrols in first-class order. Many exploratory raids were mounted within days of Jingu’s death, and Minwanabi left only a few survivors licking their wounds.’

‘The Xacatecas were among those enemies,’ Mara prompted.

Arakasi returned a nod. ‘They bear the Minwanabi no affection, and my agent in Lord Chipino’s household indicates that the Xacatecas’ First Adviser raised the possibility of alliance with the Acoma. Others in his council are still opposed; they say you have shown the best you have, and wait for you to fall. But Chipino of the Xacatecas listens without making final judgment.’

Mara raised her eyebrows, surprised. The Xacatecas were one of the Five Families. Her victory over Jingu had indeed raised regard for her name, if Chipino’s advisers would debate a possible alliance that would be a virtual declaration of war on the Minwanabi. Even the Shinzawai had skirted the question of open ties, content for the moment to keep a friendly but neutral position.

‘But the Xacatecas can wait,’ said Arakasi. ‘Desio will not formulate policy on his own, but come to depend on advisers and relations. Power and leadership will be spread over several men, making a clear-cut picture very difficult for my agents to gather. This will make our predictions unreliable where broad policy is concerned, and certainty impossible when it comes to assessing the Minwanabi’s immediate plans.’

Mara watched an insect advance across the fruit dish, sampling each variety. So would Desio surround himself with ambitious and power-hungry individuals, and though their desires might differ, all could be depended upon to wish the Acoma downfall. Perhaps ominously, the insect settled on one slice of jomach, where several of its fellows joined it. ‘We are fortunate that Tasaio is away in the wars upon Midkemia,’ the Lady mused.

Arakasi leaned forward. ‘Fortunate no longer, mistress. The man who arranged the murder of your father and brother is returning through the rift at this very day. Desio has called a great gathering of relations and supporters for the week following next. He will take oaths of fealty, and more. He has paid in metal for the erection of a prayer gate to the Red God.’

Now Mara went very still. ‘Tasaio is dangerous.’

‘Ambitious as well,’ added Arakasi. ‘Desio might be ruled by his passions, but his cousin’s only interests are war and power. With Desio firmly upon the Minwanabi throne, Tasaio will advance his own cause for command over Imperial troops and will serve Desio faithfully – albeit with an occasional silent wish for Desio to choke on a jigabird bone, I wager. Tasaio may try a military solution to his uncle’s fall from power. A smashing victory over House Acoma, with some damage to other great houses as well, and Desio will stand next to the Warlord in power in the council.’

Mara considered this. Jingu’s death had caused the Minwanabi to lose honour, allies, and political strength, but their garrisons and capability for warcraft were still undiminished. Acoma forces were well on their way to recovery since the destruction that had accompanied the fall of her father and brother. But too much relied on the cho-ja guards. At present, the insectoids would act only on Acoma lands, a deadly and reliable defensive army, but useless for offensive strategy. In war or conflict beyond the estate borders, the Acoma could not match the military might presently commanded by Desio.

‘We must know what they plan,’ she said tensely. ‘Can your agents penetrate this Minwanabi gathering and report what Desio’s advisers whisper in his ear?’

Arakasi returned a bitter smile. ‘Lady, do not overestimate any spy’s abilities. Remember that the man who reports was very close to Jingu. That servant still commands the same post, but as the son begins to exercise his powers, we have no guarantee he will remain there. Of course, I have begun to groom a replacement should things go amiss, but remember that the agent we place must be tailored to Desio’s tastes. He will not be able to rise in the young Lord’s confidence for a few years at best.’

Mara anticipated Arakasi’s next thought. ‘And Tasaio is the greater danger.’

The Spy Master returned a slight bow. ‘Lady, be sure that I will do all that is possible to compile an accurate report of what transpires at Desio’s gathering. Should the young Lord remain as stupid as I think he is, Tasaio will be but one voice among many. If he shows an unexpected flash of intelligence and assigns the campaign against us to Tasaio, we are doubly endangered.’ He set aside a barely nibbled piece of bread. ‘Worrying about what may occur has limited benefit. Have your factors and servants listen in the markets for gossip and news. Knowledge is power, remember that always. On this will the Acoma come to triumph.’

Smoothly Arakasi arose, and Mara waved him permission to withdraw. As he slipped unobtrusively from her presence, she noticed with a chill that this was the first time she had ever known him to leave food when he was hungry. The room seemed suddenly too silent, oppressive with her own doubt. The image of Tasaio returning reawakened the desperate sense of helplessness she had known when she had learned of the deaths of her family. Unwilling to dwell upon the blackness of the past, Mara clapped for her servants.