The Complete Empire Trilogy. Janny Wurts
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Just then Arakasi said, ‘Mistress, something odd ahead.’
Nacoya roused, but her complaints died unuttered as she saw her mistress staring raptly forward. At the crest of the next hill, at the boundary of the Acoma lands, stood two warriors, one on each side of the road. To the left, upon Acoma soil, waited a soldier in the familiar green of her own garrison. On the right, on lands belonging to the Empire, the second soldier wore the red and yellow armour of the Anasati. As Mara’s retinue and litter came fully into view, both men spun around and shouted almost in unison, ‘Acoma! Acoma!’
Startled as her litter swerved to the left, Mara glanced back and saw her bearers pull aside to make room for the Warlord’s litter to draw even with hers. Almecho shouted over the noise of tramping feet. ‘Lady, you’ve arranged an exceedingly odd welcome.’
Caught at a loss, Mara said, ‘My Lord, I do not know what this means.’
The Warlord gestured to his Imperial Whites, and side by side the two retinues crested the hill. Another pair of warriors waited beyond, some distance along, and an even more distant pair farther yet. On the crest of the last hill before the prayer gate a fourth pair could be seen. And from the waving back and forth, the cry ‘Acoma’ had been clearly carried ahead of the returning litters.
Mara bowed her head to Almecho. ‘With my Lord’s permission …?’
At Almecho’s brusque nod, the Lady of the Acoma instructed her bearers to quicken pace. She grabbed at the beaded handrail as, running, her slaves forged ahead. Her guard of warriors jogged with her, past the familiar, outlying fields, the needra pastures with their tawny cows and calves. Mara felt tension tighten her chest. As far as the eyes could see, the fields were empty of field hands or herders, porters or cart drivers. Even the slaves were absent. Where Acoma workers should have been hard at their labours, crops and livestock stood abandoned in the sun.
Wishing she had Keyoke’s staunch presence at her side, Mara shouted to the first Acoma soldier they passed, ‘What’s going on? Have we been raided?’
The warrior fell in beside the trotting slaves and reported on the run. ‘Anasati soldiers came yesterday, mistress. They made camp beyond the prayer gate. Force Commander Keyoke has ordered every soldier to stand ready. The lookouts he posted on the road were to call out when you returned, or report the appearance of Minwanabi soldiers.’
‘You must be cautious, daughter.’ Jounced breathless by the movement of the litter, Nacoya made as if to elaborate; but Mara needed no warning to spark her concern. She waved Keyoke’s sentinel back to join her honour company, and called out to the Anasati warrior who had stood opposite her own man, and who now kept pace with her litter on the opposite side of the road.
Any reply would be a courtesy, since no Anasati warrior was answerable to the Lady of the Acoma. This one must have been instructed to keep his own counsel, for he ran on in silence, his face turned resolutely forward. When the litter crested the last hill, the valley beyond lay carpeted in coloured armour. Mara’s breath caught in her throat.
Over a thousand Anasati warriors stood before her gate, in battle-ready formation. Confronting them, from the other side of the low boundary wall, Keyoke commanded a like number of Acoma soldiers. Here and there the green ranks were divided by wedges of gleaming black, cho-ja warriors ready to honour the treaty with their Queen, that called-for alliance should any threaten the peace of Acoma lands.
Shouts echoed down the valley the instant the litter came into view. The sight caused the Acoma forces to erupt with an uninhibited cheer; to Mara’s astonishment, the Anasati war host answered them. Then a thing happened that even old Nacoya had never heard of, not in tales, or ballads, or any of the remembered historical events in the great Game of the Council: the two armies broke ranks. Throwing down weapons and unbuckling their helms, they approached her litter in a single joyous crowd.
Mara stared in wonderment. Dust blew in the grip of a freshening breeze, hazing the plain like smoke as two thousand shouting soldiers surrounded her litter and honour guard. With difficulty, Keyoke pushed a path through his Acoma soldiers. A clear space widened in the Anasati side, and a confounded Mara found herself eye to eye with Tecuma. The Lord of the Anasati wore the armour of his ancestors, bright red with yellow trim, and at his side marched the plumed presence of his Force Commander.
The multitude of warriors stilled, even as the litter bearers jolted to a stop. The hoarse gasps of their breathing sounded loud in the silence as Keyoke bowed to his mistress. ‘My Lady.’
Tecuma stepped forward with the first polite bow observed by a Ruling Acoma in many generations.
‘My Lord,’ acknowledged Mara, a bit stiffly from her seat in the litter. With a frown of genuine confusion, she commanded her Force Commander to report.
Keyoke drew himself up and spoke loudly that all might hear. ‘Sentries warned of the approach of an army at dawn yesterday, my Lady. I mustered the garrison and went myself to challenge the trespassers –’
Tecuma interrupted. ‘We have not yet entered Acoma lands, Force Commander.’
Keyoke conceded this point with a stony glance. ‘True, my Lord.’ He again faced Mara and resumed. ‘I was approached by my Lord of the Anasati, who demanded to see his grandson. In your absence, I declined to allow him his “honour guard”.’
Mara regarded Ayaki’s grandfather with no expression visible on her face. ‘Lord Tecuma, you brought half your garrison as an “honour guard”?’
‘A third, Lady Mara.’ Tecuma returned a humourless sigh. ‘Halesko and Jiro are in command of the other two thirds.’ Here the old man seemed to falter, though he filled the moment with his usual finesse by unstrapping and removing his helm. ‘Sources of mine indicated you would not survive the Warlord’s celebration and’ – he sighed as if he hated to make this admission – ‘I feared it would be so. To prevent harm to my grandson, I decided to come visit, in case Jingu sought to end the Acoma-Minwanabi blood feud for good and all.’
Mara raised her brows in comprehension. ‘Then when my Force Commander declined your attentions to my grandson, you decided to stay and see who arrived first, myself or Jingu’s army.’
‘True.’ Tecuma’s hands tightened on his helm. ‘Had Minwanabi soldiers come over the hill, I would have marched in to protect my grandson.’
In even tones, Keyoke said, ‘And I would have stopped him.’
Mara shared a pointed stare between her Force Commander and her father-in-law. ‘Then you’d have done Jingu’s work for him.’ She shook her head in irritation. ‘This is my fault. I should have considered an Anasati grandfather’s concern might turn to war. Well then, there’s nothing to worry about, Tecuma. Your grandson is safe.’
Here the Lady of the Acoma paused, as she relived the miracle of relief all over again. ‘Jingu is dead, by his own hand.’
Taken aback, Tecuma jammed his helm over iron-grey hair. ‘But –’
Mara interrupted. ‘I know, you received no word. Regretfully for the Anasati, your “source” is dead also.’ At this news Tecuma’s eyes narrowed. Plainly he ached to know how Mara had found out about Teani, but he said nothing. Very still, he waited as Mara told him her last item of news. ‘We’ve moved the Warlord’s birthday celebration here, Tecuma. Since you were the only Lord who was absent, perhaps you’d care to amend