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 the red marks his armour had pressed into her flesh. A wild joy shone in her eyes; and she blew out the lamp, that no observer should share this moment of triumph. All she had to do was provoke an attack from Mara, or fake one if the bitch did not rise to insults. Then, by the warrior’s code, Shimizu must strike a blow in Teani’s defence; and if in the greater game Mara’s death came to be judged a shameful act, what did damage to the Minwanabi matter to a concubine whose loyalty belonged to Tecuma of the Anasati? Buntokapi’s murderess would be meat for jagunas, and to Teani that triumph was beyond any other consideration.
Beyond the balcony rail, moonlight spilled gold across the wind-ruffled waters of the lake. But Mara did not step up to the screens to admire the view. Arakasi had cautioned against this when she first entered the new suite. The guardrails of the balcony, as well as the supports and some of the planks near the edge, were old, almost ancient wood, but the pegs used to fasten them were new, lacking the dullness chican wood gained when weathered. Someone had prepared the way for an ‘accident’. A walkway of glazed stone tiles lined the garden three floors below this window. No one falling from the balcony could possibly survive. Few questions would be asked if her body were found lying broken there in the morning, with the old railing above having obviously collapsed as she leaned upon it.
Night darkened the corridors and suites of the Minwanabi estate house; few guests remained awake. Missing Papewaio, and aching for sleep and the security of her own estate, Mara settled restlessly on the cushions beside Nacoya.
Dressed in simple robes, and enamelled shell bracelets crafted by the cho-ja, the Lady of the Acoma rested her head on her palms. ‘The concubine cannot be much longer in coming.’
Nacoya said nothing; but, from his post beyond the entry screen, Arakasi returned a dubious shrug. His gesture indicated that he thought Teani unpredictable in the extreme; yet her note had stated she would come after the midnight change of the guard. Mara felt cold, though the night was warm. She wished for Papewaio, whose skill in battle was legendary. Arakasi might wear the armour of an honour guard, but his talent with weapons was nothing to boast about. Still, without the Spy Master’s network she would have no plan at all. Steadying her nerves with temple discipline, Mara waited and at last heard footsteps in the corridor.
She turned a self-satisfied smile to Arakasi; then abruptly banished the expression from her face. The footsteps drew nearer, and above the expected jingle of expensive jewellery, Mara heard the squeak of armour and weaponry; Teani had brought a warrior for company.
Nacoya blinked sleepily, hard of hearing enough that she did not detect the party approaching down the corridor. But she straightened as Mara glanced through the doorway, warned by Arakasi’s bow. He could always be counted upon to affect the manners appropriate to his station; analysing the extent of his deference, Nacoya muttered, ‘The concubine has brought an honour guard, as is her right.’ She fell silent. The hour was too late to caution Mara that any act which might be interpreted as aggressive behaviour towards Teani might be constituted an attack upon a member of the Minwanabi household. The honour guard would then be justified in defending Jingu’s concubine, even duty-bound to do so.
Though Mara assumed her most regal posture and her sternest self-control, she could not repress a small start of fear as the warrior attending Teani stepped around the screen into view. He wore the orange plumes of a Minwanabi Strike Leader, and his features were those of the officer Mara had seen sheathe his bloody blade over the body of Papewaio.
The concubine walked behind, draped in dark silk. Costly metal ornaments pinned her tawny hair, and bracelets sparkled on her wrists. As she stepped up to the screen, Arakasi positioned himself smoothly before her escort. ‘We both wait here … against any need.’
That no ar
med warrior might approach his Lady save by her leave was protocol. He waved Teani over the threshold, and the lamps flickered, winnowed by a draught off the lake.
Mara watched with stony eyes as Teani made her bow. Though endowed with a well-curved figure, close up Teani was not soft. She moved with a predator’s grace, and her eyes reflected cunning and confidence. Mara searched the woman’s form with practised eyes, but cleverly placed folds of silk revealed nothing but seductive triangles of bare skin. Any weapons Teani might carry were well hidden.
Aware, suddenly, that the concubine was assessing her in return, Mara nodded a stiff greeting. ‘There are matters between us to discuss.’ She waved at the cushions opposite.
Teani accepted the invitation and sat. ‘We do have much to discuss.’ She scraped a fleck of dust from her cuff with a sharp-edged fingernail, then added, ‘But nothing to do with gifts from your late husband, Lady. I know the real reason you asked me to come here.’
‘Do you?’ A short silence developed, which Mara extended by sending Nacoya to heat a pot of aub petal tea. Controlled enough not to break first, Teani added nothing more. Mara met the hatred in her eyes with calm. ‘I doubt you know all I have to say.’
While Nacoya bustled back with the pot, the officer who had accompanied Teani watched their every move; since Arakasi had confirmed Mara’s suspicion that Shimizu was the concubine’s lover, she was able to interpret his fanatical expression. He waited like a relli coiled to strike.
Nacoya set cups and strips of spice bark before the cushions. As she began to pour the tea, Teani spoke again. ‘You surely do not expect me to drink in your chambers, Lady of the Acoma.’
Mara smiled, as if the accusation that she might poison a guest were no insult at all. ‘You accepted Acoma hospitality readily enough before.’ And as Teani bridled, she sipped neatly from her own cup and began her opening move. ‘I observe that you have brought Strike Leader Shimizu as your honour guard. That is good, for what I have to say concerns him.’
Teani said nothing, but in the doorway Shimizu shifted his weight onto his toes. Arakasi rested his hand lightly on his sword, though he was no match for a true warrior.
Mara concentrated solely upon the beautiful courtesan before her. In a voice low enough that the soldiers by the door could not hear, she said, ‘My honour guard Papewaio was murdered last night, but not by a thief. I say to you that your honour guard, Shimizu, ran a sword through his heart, thereby forfeiting the surety of the Minwanabi.’
A breeze off the lake dimmed the lamp. Teani smiled in the shadow and abruptly waved Nacoya over to pour her tea. ‘You are no threat to the Minwanabi, Lady Mara.’ Contemptuously, as if her presence were warmly welcome, she crumbled spice bark into the cup, raised it to her lips, and drank. ‘Papewaio cannot return to life to testify.’ Teani had not troubled to lower her voice, and now Shimizu’s eyes were fixed upon the Lady of the Acoma.
Sweat sprang along Mara’s spine. For her father, for her brother, and for Pape, she made herself continue. ‘That is true. But I say that your master is guilty, and your warrior companion was his instrument. You both will swear to the fact … or else Jingu will watch his pretty lover die by the rope.’
Teani stiffened. Without spilling her tea, she set down her cup. ‘That’s a threat to frighten children. Why should my master order me a shameful death, when I do nothing but please him?’
Now Mara let her reply ring across the breadth of the room. ‘Because I know that you are a spy for Tecuma of the Anasati.’
For a moment surprise, shock, and naked calculation warred on the concubine’s face. Before Teani could recover her poise, Mara completed her gambit and hoped the gods of chance would support her lie. ‘I have documents that prove you are Tecuma’s sworn servant, and unless you do as I wish, I will have them sent to the Lord of the Minwanabi.’
Arakasi watched Shimizu with the single-minded intensity of a killwing. At first the tall officer seemed stunned by betrayal. Then, as Teani visibly struggled for words to deny the accusation, Shimizu stirred in the doorway and slowly drew his sword.
The concubine strove to patch the tear in their relations. ‘Shimizu! Mara lies. She speaks falsely of me to make you betray our master.’
Shimizu hesitated. Reflections from the lamp trembled along the razor edge of his lacquered blade as, tortured with self-doubt, he debated.
‘Attack her,’ Teani goaded. ‘Kill Mara for me. Kill her now!’
But her voice rang too shrill. Shimizu straightened his shoulders. Fear, and regret, and painful resolve all mingled on his features as he slowly shook his head. ‘I must inform my Lord Jingu. He shall judge.’
‘No!’ Teani sprang to her feet. ‘He’ll hang us both, you fool!’
But the protest served only to seal her guilt in the eyes of the warrior who had loved her. He spun away from the doorframe. Arakasi moved to overtake him, and sounds of a struggle arose from the corridor. Plainly the Acoma Spy Master attempted to block Shimizu’s way, to grant Mara time to obtain proof of Minwanabi treachery against Papewaio.
Teani whirled, her eyes narrowed with fury. ‘You’ll never get what you want from me, you sexless bitch.’ She drew a knife from the waistband of her robe and sprang from the cushions to murder.
Mara had seen the shift of the concubine’s weight. Already rolling as Teani piled into her, she dropped her shoulder under the thrust. The knife struck harmlessly into cushions.
As the concubine twisted the weapon free, Mara recovered her breath. ‘Shimizu! Help! For your master’s honour!’ She rolled again, the flash of the blade a hairsbreadth from her groin.
Teani uttered a furious curse and slashed at her enemy’s throat.
Mara blocked with a wrestler’s move, but only for a moment. The concubine was larger than she, and anger lent her strength. Sliding, twisting, struggling for her life upon the floor, Mara managed a desperate cry to Nacoya. ‘Get help. If I die in front of witnesses, Jingu is ruined and Ayaki will survive!’
The old nurse fled. Teani shrieked wordlessly in frustration. Possessed utterly by hatred, she rammed Mara backwards against the tiles. The knife dipped. Mara’s grip began to give, and the blade trembled lower, nearer and nearer to her exposed throat.
Suddenly a shadow loomed overhead. Armour flashed in the moonlight, and hands seized Teani from behind. Mara’s hold broke with a jerk as the concubine was yanked backwards, the knife still in her hand.
Shimizu hauled his lover up by the hair, like a hunter’s kill. ‘You must be an Anasati spy,’ he said bitterly. ‘Why else would you harm this woman, and see my master shamed beyond redemption?’
Teani met her lover’s accusation with a glare of sultry defiance. Then she twisted like a serpent and rammed the knife towards his heart.
Shimizu spun and took the blade against the wristband on his arm. The edge glanced off, opening a slight wound. Wild with rage, he flung away the concubine who had betrayed him. She staggered gracelessly backwards and caught a heel on the track that secured the screens. The balcony lay beyond, the railing a silhouette against the moonlit surface of the lake. Teani flailed, off balance, and stumbled against supports already weakened for murder. The railing cracked and gave way with the softest whisper of sound. The concubine twisted, horror robbing her of grace, as she clawed to regain the balcony. Mara’s breath caught in her throat, even as the weakened boards splintered from under Teani’s feet. The sound was a death knell. Teani knew, as she tottered, that the glazed tiles of the courtyard awaited below; the body found broken in the morning would be hers, and not that of her enemy.
‘No!’ Her shout echoed over the lake as the last board collapsed beneath her. She did not scream. As she plunged through the darkness, she cried, ‘I curse you –’ and then her body struck the tiles. Mara closed her eyes. Still clenching a drawn sword, Shimizu stood stunned and tormented. The woman he had cherished lay dead below.
The moonlight shone uninterrupted across a vacant expanse of balcony, framed by broke
n supports. Mara shivered and stirred, then raised stunned eyes to the warrior, who seemed locked like a statue in grief. ‘What happened to my honour guard?’ she asked.
Shimizu seemed not to hear. He turned half-dazed from the balcony and bent unfriendly eyes upon Mara. ‘You will provide evidence that Teani was an Anasati spy, my Lady.’
Mara pushed damp hair from her face, too shaken and too preoccupied to react to the threat in his tone. Her goal, vengeance for her father, her brother, and even Papewaio, lay very close at hand. If only she could wring an admission from Shimizu – the Strike Leader could not hope to hide the fact that he had been forced to kill Teani to defend the oath of guest safety. Since the concubine had initiated the attack, Jingu could be accused of betrayal; for upon Mara’s arrival half the guests present had overheard his announcement that Teani was a privileged member of his household.
Shimizu took a threatening step forward. ‘Where is your proof?’
Mara looked up, relief at her own survival making her careless in her reply. ‘But I have no proof. Teani was an Anasati spy, but my claim of written evidence was only a gambler’s bluff.’
Shimizu glanced quickly to either side, and with a jolt of renewed dread, Mara remembered. Nacoya had left to find help. No observers remained to witness whatever happened in the room.
‘Where is Arakasi?’ she repeated, unable to hide the fear in her voice.
Shimizu stepped forward. His manner changed from stunned horror to resolve, and his fingers tightened on his weapon. ‘You have no further need of an honour guard, Lady of the Acoma.’
Mara retreated, her feet tangling in cushions. ‘Warrior, after all that has passed this night, would you dare compromise the honour of your master beyond doubt?’
Shimizu’s expression remained stony as he lifted his sword. ‘Who is to know? If I say that you killed Teani, and I was honour-bound to defend her, there are no other witnesses to challenge me.’
The Complete Empire Trilogy Page 46
