Mistress of the Empire by Raymond E. Feist, Janny Wurts Read Free Book Online Page A

his First Adviser, ‘Find out for certain if the tong pursues Mara on its own. I would know, so we can make better plans when this news of Ayaki’s death becomes official.’
    Chumaka clapped his hands and a servant came to his shoulder. ‘Have two runners in my quarters by the time I reach them.’ While the servant bowed and hastened away, he made his own obeisance to the master. ‘Lord, I shall begin at once. I have some new sources that may provide us with better information.’ Then, seeing the hardened glint in Lord Jiro’s eyes, Chumaka touched his master’s sleeve. ‘We must show restraint until Mara’s messenger reaches us with formal announcement of Ayaki’s death. Speak now, and your staff will gossip. We would ill be served by giving our enemy proof, that we have spies in sensitive places.’
    Jiro snapped away from Chumaka’s touch. ‘I understand, but do not ask me to be complacent! All in Anasati service will mourn. Ayaki of the Acoma, my nephew, has been slain, and every man of ours who is not a slave will wear a red band upon his arm in token of our loss. When this day’s business is finished, you will ready an honor guard for travel to Sulan-Qu.’
    Chumaka bit back annoyance. ‘We attend the boy’s funeral?’
    Jiro bared his teeth. ‘He was my nephew. To stay home when his ashes are honored would be to admit responsibility or cowardice, and we are guilty of neither. He may have been the son of my enemy, and I may now destroy his mother without constraint, but he shares Anasati blood! He deserves the respect any grandson of Tecuma of the Anasati is entitled. We shall carry a family relic to be burned with him.’ Jiro’s eyes flashed as he finished, ‘Tradition demands our presence!’
    Chumaka kept his reservations about this decision as he bowed in acknowledgment of his master’s wishes. While it was a First Adviser’s place to shepherd his Lord through decisions that affected house policy, Chumaka was wont to chafe at the more mundane responsibilities of his office. The Game of the Council had changed dramatically since Mara of the Acoma first entered the arena; yet it was still the game, and nothing in life captured the adviser’s fascination like the puzzle of Tsurani politics. Taut as a coursing hound, he rose up in excitement for the chase.
    Almost happy despite the prospect of unfortunate developments on the horizon, the First Adviser left the great hall, muttering over the lists of instructions he would need to dispatch with his runners. Substantial bribes would be necessary to pry loose the information he desired, but if the gathered bits of intelligence could prove his morning’s theory, the gains would outweigh the cost. As Chumaka paused for the servants to open the door to let him out, his lips reflected an unholy smile.
    Years had passed since he had tested his wits against a worthy opponent! Lady Mara was going to afford him much amusement if Lord Jiro’s obsession could not be cooled, and the Anasati marked her house for ruin.
    Mara tossed fitfully in sleep. Her sounds of distress tore at Hokanu’s heart, and he wished to do something, to touch her, to speak soft words, to ease her agony. But she had slept very little since Ayaki’s death. Even the restlessness of nightmares offered some release. To waken her was to force her to awareness of her loss, and to the crushing necessity of bearing up under the strain.
    Hokanu sighed and regarded the patterns that moonlight cast through the screens. The shadows in the corners seemed to loom darker than ever before; not even the presence of doubled sentries at each door and window could recover the lost sense of peace. The heir to the Shinzawai and husband to the Servant of the Empire now found himself a man alone, with nothing but his wits and his love for a troubled woman. The predawn air was cool, unusual for lands in Szetac Province, perhaps owing to the proximity of the house to the lake. Hokanu arose and slipped on the