The Complete Empire Trilogy: Daughter of the Empire, Mistress of the Empire, Servant of the Empire. Janny Wurts
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![The Complete Empire Trilogy: Daughter of the Empire, Mistress of the Empire, Servant of the Empire - Janny Wurts The Complete Empire Trilogy: Daughter of the Empire, Mistress of the Empire, Servant of the Empire - Janny Wurts](/cover_pre397980.jpg)
Here the Spy Master paused in his repast. ‘Last night the two lovers quarrelled.’ He grinned. ‘The servant lighting lamps overheard and stayed around cleaning wicks – he found the conversation fascinating. The man was reluctant to speak to my agent, as the name of their Lord had been mentioned, but whatever the final disposition, Teani has been snappish as a bitch ever since. Shimizu can be expected to do anything to regain her favour.’
‘Anything?’ Bored with eating, Mara waved to Nacoya, who brought damp cloths to wipe her face and hands. ‘That does offer possibilities, does it not?’ While Arakasi ate freely, Mara considered: Shimizu had slain Papewaio by treachery; Teani might be forced into manipulating him to admit his Lord had ordered the death of the Acoma officer. As an Anasati spy, Teani had no true loyalty to Jingu. She would be the only servant in his house unwilling to die for Minwanabi honour. Mara made up her mind. ‘I wish you to have a message delivered to Teani,’ she said to Arakasi. ‘Can this be done in secrecy?’
Now it was the Spy Master’s turn to lose his appetite. ‘If I could presume to guess what plan you have in mind, it is risky, no, dangerous in the extreme. By my assessment, the concubine cannot be depended upon to protect her true master, the Lord of the Anasati. She has betrayed a master before, perhaps more than one, and I suspect she may have murdered another.’
Mara, too, had studied Teani’s background, that of an abused street prostitute who had grown to love her profession, and one thing more: twisted ambition. In the past the woman had sold out lovers and friends and even done murder upon men who had visited her bed. At first these acts had been ones of survival; but later she had continued out of greed, and a hunger for power. That Mara shared Arakasi’s opinion of the concubine’s reliability mattered little at this point. ‘Arakasi, if you have a better plan, I will embrace it.’
The Spy Master gestured in the negative; and deep in his eyes Mara read approval as she said, ‘Very well. Fetch me parchment and pen, and have my message sent to this woman by nightfall.’
Arakasi bowed and did as he was bid. Inwardly he admired the boldness of Mara’s intentions; yet his sharp eyes did not miss the slight tremble of her hand as she penned the note that would begin her attempt to redress the power-hungry rapacity of the Minwanabi Lord.
The lamp flame flickered in the draught as Teani paced to the screen and spun around, the mantle fanning an agitated breeze across the cheek of Strike Leader Shimizu. ‘You should not have summoned me at this hour,’ he said, disappointed with himself because already his annoyance was fading. ‘You know that I cannot shirk my duty to attend you, and I am due on watch in an hour.’
Poised in lamplight with her gold-streaked hair laced with ribbon, Teani took his breath away. The curve of her breasts beneath her thin robe made duty seem unreal. ‘Go on to your watch, then, soldier,’ the concubine said.
Shimizu lowered his eyes, perspiration glistening on his forehead. If he left now, his mind would not be on his post, and the Lord of the Minwanabi might as well have no guard on his door at all. Trapped between honour and the burning need of his love, the Strike Leader said, ‘You may as well tell me why you asked that I come.’
Teani sat as if strength and confidence had suddenly deserted her. She turned the frightened eyes of a girl to her lover; but the robes shifted as she leaned forward, showing a calculated amount of flesh. ‘Shimizu, I did not know who else to ask. Mara of the Acoma wishes to have me assassinated.’
She seemed vulnerable enough to wrench the heart. Shimizu’s hand gripped his sword by instinct. As always, her beauty overwhelmed the honest instinct that warned her words might deceive. ‘How do you know this, my love?’
Teani lowered her lashes as if fighting despair.
Shimizu removed his helm, abandoned it hastily on a side table, then bent at her side. Enclosing her shoulders in his embrace, he spoke into her scented hair. ‘Tell me.’
Teani shivered. She buried her face in his strength and allowed his hands to stroke her, coaxing away the fear that prevented speech. ‘Mara sent me a note,’ the concubine managed at last. ‘She claims that her late husband left me some jewels as an inheritance. To avoid calling my indiscretion to the attention of my Lord, she demands that I go to her chambers tonight when all are asleep to claim them. Only I know that Buntokapi left me no gifts. That night he left me in Sulan-Qu he knew he was going back to the estate to die, and he arranged for my comforts before he departed.’
Shimizu shook her gently, as if to disrupt a childish fit of sulks. ‘You’re in no danger, precious. No demand of the Lady of the Acoma can force you to complete such an errand.’
Teani raised her head, her breasts pressed against the Strike Leader’s side. ‘You don’t know her,’ she whispered, afraid still, and appealing to the edge of pain. ‘Mara is clever, and cold-hearted enough to arrange the death of her own son’s father. If I refuse this invitation, how long do I have before an assassin visits my sleeping mat and plunges a knife through my heart? Shimizu, I shall live each day in terror. Only in your arms do I feel safe from this woman’s wicked plots.’
Shimizu felt that the smallest breath of cold touched his flesh. He drew taut, as if the woman in his arms had touched a nerve. ‘What do you wish of me?’ Her insecurity prompted a warrior’s desire to protect; yet he could not strike Mara without breaking the Minwanabi surety that the safety of all guests was secure under his roof. In warning Shimizu added, ‘Even for your sake, I cannot betray my Lord.’
Not in the least distressed, Teani reached under Shimizu’s tunic and traced the muscles of his thigh with her fingers. ‘I would never ask you to dirty yourself with an assassin’s work, love. But as my man, would you permit your woman to enter the lair of a dangerous beast without protection? If I answer the appointment after your guard duty ends, would you go as my escort? If Mara intends me harm, and you defend me, then our Lord will have nothing but praise. You’ll have slain the enemy of his heart and done so without risk of shame. If you are right’ – she shrugged, as if the possibility was faint – ‘and there is some truth to the woman’s message, what harm is done by my bringing an escort?’
Shimizu relaxed utterly, and her caress flushed his skin like fine wine. That a member of the Minwanabi household should bring an honour guard to her appointment with a guest was entirely proper, even expected; and, as such, he could lawfully defend the safety of his charge if her life were threatened. Loosened by relief, he kissed her. And in the fervency of his response Teani sensed that the warrior she manipulated wavered in his resolves like a reed in a gale. If she had asked for Mara’s death, Shimizu would have been deeply unsure which would claim his first loyalty: his obligations to his Lord or his devotion to the woman in his arms.
Teani pushed Shimizu away with all the caution she would have used while sheathing a deadly weapon. No trace of satisfaction showed in her eyes, but only resignation and bravery as she lifted the plumed helmet from the side table and set it in Shimizu’s hands. ‘Honour our Lord, my love. Then meet me here when your guard duty is over, and we shall go to meet Mara of the Acoma.’
Shimizu placed the helmet on his head. With the strap still swinging loose, he bent and kissed her fiercely. ‘If Mara dares try to harm you, she shall die,’ he whispered. Then he broke away and strode swiftly through the screen.
As Shimizu vanished into the twilight, Teani rubbed