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!’
Now Mara understood. The man suspected the Acoma of having an agent in his household. Arakasi had spent several weeks as a guest of the Inrodaka; if anyone recognized him, a fight might result. Mara chanced a surreptitious glance that ended in a blink of confusion. The Spy Master had disappeared. Another searching glance, a little more careful, revealed his presence among the soldiers, but even there she had trouble picking him out. At one with the others in Acoma ranks, he stood poised for trouble, but his helm hung slightly lower over the bridge of his nose, and his chin was thrust forward, making his jaw seem squarer than usual. Very likely he would remain unnoticed. Relieved by this, Mara sought to avoid conflict. ‘My Lord, I take no responsibility for causing a break in a pledge beyond your right to promise. The cho-ja keep their own counsel. As for being privy to your secrets, “the cho-ja are the first with news and early-season fruit.” If you but ask, they’ll tell you that one hive knows the affairs of all others. Whether or not your workers, servants, or slaves set foot off your land, the news was accessible in all parts of the Empire. I was simply first to act. You could not prevent me, my Lord. And in the last, since when must the Acoma nursemaid the honour of the Inrodaka?’
The Lord of the Inrodaka bristled. His ally, the Lord of the Ekamchi, looked as if he would just as soon be done with the whole affair and go elsewhere. Yet honour prevented his withdrawal as Inrodaka said, ‘For that, you presumptuous girl, you will not leave my lands alive.’
Mara met this threat in proud and stony silence. She must not capitulate, for such cowardice would shame the bones of her ancestors. Though her heart leaped in fear, she saw her men were ready, showing no sign of concern for the odds against them. She nodded once to Keyoke.
The Force Commander signalled the warriors of the Acoma to raise weapons while, like imperfect reflections in a mirror, Inrodaka and Ekamchi commanders ordered their own men to the ready.
Through the rattle of blades and the creak of armour, Mara felt her pulsebeat quicken. She tried one last time to negotiate. ‘We have no desire for strife, especially as we have done nothing for which we need to defend ourselves.’
Inrodaka’s reply rang crisp on the morning air. ‘You will not leave without a fight.’
A heartbeat away from precipitating bloodshed, Mara held the irate old man’s gaze, while whispering furiously to Keyoke. ‘Dare we count on our alliance with the young Queen?’
Keyoke kept his eyes upon the opposing forces. ‘Lady, the old Queen rules this hive, and her alliance is with the Inrodaka. Who knows how her warriors will react if the young Queen’s ally is threatened?’ Gripping his sword tightly, he said, ‘I doubt there has ever been such a confrontation in the long history of the Empire.’
As he spoke, a full hundred old, experienced cho-ja warriors marched from the hive entrance. Black carapaces and razor
