Servant of the Empire. Janny Wurts

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ sighed, his only sign of regret that after one last night of planning, this gifted young noble would depart by river to begin this journey across the Sea of Blood to the ruins at Banganok. There Tasaio would join the men already in camp with the desert raiders, to effect the second stage of the plot to be set in motion by the silk raid. The campaign against the Xacatecas in Dustari must be stepped up, else the demand for an Acoma relief force could never be bribed through the council. Assigned the more demeaning worries of bath water and pretty serving girls, the Minwanabi First Adviser skirted a sweeper as bent as time, and shuffled his way out of the vast hall.

      Mara paced. She spun in a tight circle, repressed an impulse to kick a pillow, and said, ‘Call him back. At once!’

      The scribe, whose slates lay in a disorderly stack by the desk in the Lady’s study, bowed low and touched his forehead to the floor. ‘Your will, Mistress.’ He scrambled erect and hurried from the room, too intimidated by Mara’s anger to resent the fact that she had ordered him off to the farthest reaches of the estate as though he possessed a runner slave’s fitness.

      As the servant’s footsteps dwindled down the passage, Nacoya clucked in reproof. ‘Daughter, the troubles you shoulder are difficult, but that should not let you take liberties. You have worked yourself into a deplorable state.’

      Mara whirled, white with fury. ‘Old woman, your nattering is most unwelcome.’

      Nacoya raised a furrowed brow. ‘Worry has made you unreasonable.’ Her gaze fastened unerringly upon Kevin’s name, repeatedly scribed on the slates strewn around the floor. Narrowing her eyes as if trying to peer into her foster-daughter’s heart, the former nurse said, ‘Or love has.’

      Now Mara did kick the cushion. It sailed through the screen and through close-woven branches of akasi; flower petals exploded in profusion, and a cloud of pollen showered the floor. ‘Old woman, you try me beyond tolerance! Love has nothing to do with this. I’m angry because I allowed myself to send him away out of fear, and cowardice of any sort is unacceptable.’

      Nacoya fastened at once on the key phrase. ‘Fear … a barbarian slave?’

      ‘I feared his blasphemous opinions on the working of Fate’s Wheel, and the effect that attitude might have upon my son. And I’m put out with myself for feeling this. Kevin is my property, is he not? I may have him sold or killed at my whim, yes?’ Mara sighed in frustration. ‘For these last two months I’ve had his behaviour watched, and he has conducted himself well. The fields are at long last clear, and not one of his countrymen has been hanged to speed things along. And the entire time he has shown the proper respect toward his superiors.’

      Nacoya’s sternness softened. She considered her mistress’s fevered eyes and the flush on her cheeks, then regrettably concluded that little more could be done. The girl had come to love the barbarian. Though Mara still didn’t understand that fact yet, neither tact nor reason could turn back time. Against any sane judgment, Kevin would be back by nightfall.

      Nacoya shut her eyes in long-suffering patience. The timing could hardly be worse, with news of a coming Minwanabi offensive just delivered from Arakasi’s able hands. But one could not fault a young woman for turning to comfort in a crisis. Nacoya could only pray that Mara would tire of the slave quickly, or at least learn that nothing more than sexual release could come from such a relationship. The Lady must see reason, and give attention to more appropriate suitors. Once married to a man of rank, firm on her seat as Ruling Lady with a fit consort at her side, Mara could sleep with anyone she chose – her husband must accept this was a right of her office, as mistresses would be for a Ruling Lord. But finding a consort, that was the problem.

      Since the shaming of poor Bruli of the Kehotara a year before, most young noblemen shied clear of the Ruling Lady of the Acoma; Tsurani street gossip consistently took the breath away with its detailed accounts of what occurred in supposedly private bedchambers. While only a handful of servants had witnessed Bruli’s embarrassment, within days every street vendor in the Central Provinces had repeated the tale.

      Perhaps some potential suitors had learned of that incident and decided the strong-willed Lady was more trouble than her wealth and title were worth, or perhaps lingering suspicions regarding Lord Buntokapi’s dishonour and death kept others away. Certainly a majority of potential suitors were simply waiting to see if Mara survived much longer.

      Even someone as overt in his interest as Hokanu of the Shinzawai could not be expected to wait while Mara indulged in her follies. Each night that Mara dallied with Kevin was an hour she was unavailable to entertain noble sons. Nacoya threw up crabbed hands and made a disgusted sound through her nose. ‘My Lady, if you must call him back, at least ask the herb woman to mix you a potion of barrenness. Bed sport is all to the good, but not if you have the misfortune to conceive accidentally.’

      ‘Out!’ Mara flushed red, then paled, then blushed again. ‘I am calling my slave back for reprimand, not to indulge his rampant lust!’

      Nacoya bowed and beat a retreat as quickly as her ancient bones allowed. In the hall she sighed. Reprimand for what? For being efficient and showing respect to his betters? For extracting more work from his barbarian countrymen than anyone else had been able to do? With a look of unbreakable patience, Nacoya walked to the servants’ building and called upon the herb woman herself, to ensure that an elixir of teriko weed would be left in the Lady’s room by nightfall. With the Minwanabi hot for Acoma blood, all the family needed for folly was a Ruling Lady burdened with a pregnancy.

      The afternoon was well spent by the time the exhausted scribe returned from the farthest meadows accompanied by Kevin the barbarian. Having forgotten she had sent other than a runner slave on the errand, Mara’s temper had not improved with the delay, nor at the realization her judgment had been clouded by emotion. Hungry, but too nettled to eat, she waited in her study, while a poet whose verse she had not listened to for the better part of two hours read from a seat on the bare wooden floor. Mara waved him silent each time she heard footsteps in the corridor. The poet resumed with feigned patience each time the tread turned out to be that of a passing servant. If not for the great Lady’s patronage, he would be on the streets in Sulan-Qu, trying to eke out a living composing verse for passersby. When the expected party arrived at last, he graciously bowed at his dismissal; Mara was generous in her ways, and if he felt slighted by her inattention through the afternoon, she would make up the discourtesy to him later.

      Cued by striding footfalls, accompanied by the quick patter of feet as a much shorter servant attempted to keep up with the long-legged barbarian, Mara bade the pair enter before either had a chance to knock. The nearly incapacitated scribe pushed the screen open, his face bright red as he gasped, ‘Lady … Kevin.’

      Too preoccupied to be contrite, Mara dismissed him to rest and leave her alone with her slave. When the screen clicked shut, she regarded Kevin, framed in the space before the doorway. For a long moment neither spoke, then Mara made a curt gesture for the barbarian to step closer.

      Kevin complied, deeply suntanned and freckled over the nose, his blue eyes in startling contrast to his darkened skin. His hair had bleached red-gold, and the untrimmed ends fell curling to his shoulders. He wore no shirt. Hours spent digging with his work crews had left him callused and heavily muscled across the back and arms. The intensity of the summer’s heat had taken its due: his precious Midkemian-style trousers had been hacked short at the thigh, and his knees showed old scars and new scratches from the briers. Absorbed with taking in details, and unprepared for the leap of her heart as she saw him again after so long, Mara did not anticipate his anger.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст СКАЧАТЬ