PEARL HAND GATHERED HER COURAGE, SAYING, “DE SOTO FOUGHT his way up the peninsula, then through Uzachile, and finally realized his folly when the Apalachee battled him to a draw. After the swamps of Capacheeki, he realized that if he professes peace, Nations will feed his army, carry his supplies, and their women will service his men in return for trinkets.”
“Which means?” the old woman asked skeptically.
“If you convince him there is no gold here, feed his army, supply porters to carry his goods, and offer suitable high-ranking hostages to ensure his army will not be attacked, you can probably persuade him to pass through.”
I shot Pearl Hand a sidelong glance. I thought the plan was to trap de Soto and make him bleed his way through Cofitachequi.
“And which hostages did you have in mind?” The mico shot her jaw out. “Hmm? Me, perhaps?”
I said, “De Soto would prefer you. In the past he’s been satisfied with different holatas . . . uh, chiefs, if you will. He even had Mikko Cafakke in his grasp for a while.”
I could feel the growing anger in the room and added, “But placing yourself in his grasp would be a terrible mistake. He’s not known for his kindness.”
White Rose had been studying, listening, thoughts racing behind her flashing young eyes. But why the cunning look? There was no advantage to be had here. And why did she keep shooting me those inviting smiles, as if I’d be dumb enough to dally with a mico’s niece? One apparently in line for the high chair itself.
Again the Tagaya mico said, “We should dispatch scouts, great Sun Ruler. Our people are all over the forest, hunting and fishing. If these Kristianos are really coming, we’ll have word of it long before they find their way here.”
“See to it.” The old mico ran bony knuckles under her jaw, glaring hatred at Pearl Hand all the while. “Coordinate with the war chiefs and other micos. Send warnings to the southern talwas; tell them to remain alert. Rot it all, half of them are empty anyway.”
White Rose narrowed her eyes. “Aunt, the people might panic. After the Death, they might run like rabbits before a hawk, spreading even more panic before them. They need a symbol, someone to indicate that we are aware of the situation and have it under control.”
The old woman turned suspicious eyes on the girl. “And you think the local micos can’t?”
“The micos are part of the problem.” White Rose crossed her arms, emphasizing her full breasts. “One of us must go, demonstrating that the Sun Clan is not impotent in this crisis. We’ve been holed up here for too long. People think the Death has weakened our authority, that our Power is diluted.”
I watched the interplay between them, the sort of subtle signals that only long and rocky history entailed.
“Are you so quick to put your life on the line?” the old woman asked. “If some Kristiano takes you, you’ll never ascend the high chair.” She made a tsking sound. “And I thought you were so desperate to outlive me.”
White Rose bristled, pointing at the young noble. “So send Fire Otter. He’s your favorite. Let him represent you.”
“He’s not Sun Clan, and everybody knows it.”
“They know that you trust him more than me or any of the micos.” White Rose tightened her crossed arms, snugging the fabric of her dress around her breasts. She was doing it for my benefit, but I could tell Blood Thorn was more fascinated.
“Then go, niece.” The old woman relented, a mocking smile trying to escape her tight lips. She turned. “Fire Otter?”
“Yes, great Mico?” The young noble stepped forward. He had a round face, honest eyes, and a muscular body. Chunkey player, I decided.
She gave him a genuine smile, reached up and affectionately patted his shoulder. “Go with White Rose. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid . . . like getting herself killed. You will keep me informed of everything, even the smallest details. Take sufficient runners.”
“Wonderful,” White Rose muttered, “my own personal spy.”
“Listen to him, niece. For once, use your head. You wanted a chance? This is it. If the Kristianos are coming, find out. Then get back here as quickly as you can.”
“And what are you going to do?” White Rose demanded.
“Try to think of a way to either destroy the Kristiano army or broker the best deal I can.” The old mico was fingering her chin, eyes distant.
“And what about her?” White Rose indicated Pearl Hand with a lift of her shoulder.
The mico turned her slitted eyes on Pearl Hand. “I’m still thinking.”
“Hang her in a square, Aunt.”
I stiffened, thumping my trader’s staff on the matting. “We are here under the Power of trade.”
“You are, Chicaza. She isn’t. She remains property of the Sun Clan.” Her thin lips curled. “No matter how long she’s been gone.”
I was on the verge of taking a step toward her, raising the heavy copper mace—and of course, dooming us all—when Pearl Hand said to me, “I have your word, High Minko. Stand down.”
That she’d called me “high minko” stopped me cold. Doing so wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. All eyes focused on me. Almost trembling, I took a deep breath. “As I promised.”
“Interesting,” the old woman mused. “So, she’s got you right where she wants you, eh? Poor fool.” She turned to one of the ynahaes. “Find the high minko and iniha quarters and food suitable for their rank.”
“And,” I asked, “Pearl— Evening Breeze? Her welfare is important to us. She has great value when fighting Kristianos.”
“Along with her other talents, no doubt. She stays with me.” The old woman smiled like a ghoul.
Pearl Hand looked as if she were about to faint.
“Great Sun Ruler, before you do anything, you should know she speaks the Kristiano language.” I was desperately grasping for anything.
“And that means . . . what?” She was giving me the same look she’d give a useful dog.
“Among the Uzachile, it kept their great holata from ending up with a chain around his neck.” Then I gave her a thin smile of my own. “You should also know that, upon my honor as a Chicaza, she falls under my protection.”
“Is that right?” She was giving me a predatory stare.
“Our goodwill could either be of help to you in the coming crisis, or not.” I managed a grim smile. “Your decision.”
“I’ll be all right,” Pearl Hand said insistently. “Go, High Minko, and thank you for everything.”
As the warriors came to escort us out, I caught that last desperate flash of love in her eyes.
I braced my legs, the copper mace clutched, ready to strike. I was filling my lungs to protest when Pearl Hand turned pleading eyes on my mine, saying, “You gave your word.”
And then, as I suffered a desperation unlike anything I’d ever known, we were whisked out of the palace and into the night.
Very nice houses were in abundant supply in Telemico, which, simply translated, means “Chief’s Town.” The Death had seen to that. Based on the honorific Pearl Hand had bestowed upon me, and the opulence of our dress, we were escorted to a fine four-room house just behind the palace and next to the dusty one where we’d changed.
In the light of pine torches I inspected the place, looked at our warrior guard, and summarily ordered: “We need servants, a fire, food for my dogs, and clean bedding.”
The warriors bowed, touching their chins. Only the chin? Not the forehead? Well, I was a foreign lord, not one of their own.
While one remained behind with his torch, the others hurried away. I shot a half-panicked look at Blood Thorn. “Pus and blood! What are we going to do? Pearl Hand—”
“Is more than capable of taking care of herself,” he said, stepping close, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Trust her, Black Shell. She’s had a plan the whole time. She knows these people in ways you do not. Never underestimate her.”
I slumped, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. “I pray you’re right.” A pause. “Did you follow any of that?”
“Not really.” He was watching me with cautious eyes. “But I can see why Pearl Hand really didn’t want to come here.”
“By Piasa’s balls, why didn’t she tell us the whole story?”
“Because she believes in Power. She believes in your dreams, in the sepaya you wear, and in the destruction of the monster.”
I sucked a cool breath into my hot lungs. “That woman in there hates her. Blood and serpents, Pearl Hand did something to her son. Maybe killed him for all I know.”
“Who’s the girl with breasts, the obnoxious one with the virgin’s belt?”
“The high mico’s niece . . . and probably her successor.” I pointed a finger. “Don’t even think it.”
He grinned. “She’s a real beauty—and knows it. Did you see the way she was looking at you? Not to mention the way she posed so as to leave no doubt about the merchandise?”
“And did you, Iniha, notice that she’s a cunning little lizard with acid in her heart?” I paced the floor, smacking the heavy mace into my left palm.
Pearl Hand, what are they doing to you?
I tried not to glare at the poor warrior holding the torch. It wasn’t his fault. And we’d been speaking Timucua, which was apparently babble to him.
“She’ll be all right,” Blood Thorn said softly. “Did you see how she manipulated that mico up at Tagaya town? Making us dress the part when we got here, then calling you a high minko? She’s taken us beyond the Power of trade, Black Shell.”
“That old woman . . .” I took a swipe at empty air, the mace whistling. “I swear, if the old bitch has cut her throat, I’m caving her skull in.”
“She hasn’t.” Blood Thorn crossed his arms. “Believe me, that one hasn’t lived this long without having her wits about her.”
“You know this, do you?”
“Rulers who stand the test of time are the ones who place their emotions second to the necessity of the day. And for the moment, Pearl Hand is too valuable to kill.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
“De Soto is just down south, perhaps stumbling out of the forest as we speak. The moment the old woman hears he’s on the way, she’s going to want to know everything we do. Keeping Pearl Hand alive is part of maintaining our goodwill.”
I nodded as a line of servants bearing our packs, firewood, food, and every other necessity entered. I considered the looks they were giving me.
So, by dripping pus, Pearl Hand had made me a high minko? Uncle, Mother, and the rest of my teachers had trained me for the part. Pointing with my mace, I gave orders with the expectation that they’d be obeyed. Within moments the house was lit, food was provided, my dogs were eating on the porch, and I’d even been given two litter chairs for Blood Thorn and myself.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t constantly shooting worried glances at the back of the palace, positive that Pearl Hand wasn’t spending a pleasant evening. The knowledge left a sick sensation in my stomach.
We were demolishing the last of a plate of baked fish, honey-sweetened hominy, and spiced squash when the yatika appeared.
The man carried his ceremonial staff of office as he stepped inside, announcing, “High Minko Black Shell, this person respectfully requests that you accompany him on the Cofitachequi mico’s business.”
“That was quick,” Blood Thorn mused.
“See to the dogs?”
“Of course.” He gave me a reassuring look. “I know she’s your wife, but keep your wits, old friend . . . and be smart.”
I’d had time to recover my self-control. As I followed the yatika out into the night, I was already coming to grips with the new rules. This was now a game of statecraft, not that much different from trade, actually. The stakes were just a little higher, the players more sophisticated—and Pearl Hand’s fate depended upon it.
I wasn’t surprised when we rounded the mound and climbed the steps to the palace. Fortunately, I was still dressed for the part, and the heavy copper mace—as its crafters intended—could serve more than just ceremonial functions.
Warriors opened one of the doors for us, and we walked past the fire, now burning low. The old mico was still seated, the eagle-back chair looking just as fierce. Pearl Hand was nowhere to be seen.
The yatika raised his staff of office. “I present the high minko of the Chicaza, great Sun Ruler.”
She lifted a hand in thanks, eyes on me. “So, I’m to believe you are the high minko of the Chicaza?”
I gave her a wry smile. “For the moment, my younger brother sits on the panther stool. Power saw fit to change the course of my life.”
“Power? Really? It just told you, ‘Leave your palace and authority, turn your back on your people, and go wander the world’?”
“Mico, what you believe is no concern of mine. For reasons of its own, Power presented me with a terrible choice, and knowing the stakes, I have accepted. But do not delude yourself that such a decision comes without cost.”
“And what cost did you pay?”
“My birthright; everything I had striven for, dreamed of; and my people. Even if I defeat the monster, I shall die alone. My bones will not rest among those of my ancestors.” I turned, gazing around the room, unconcerned—an equal engaged in a conversation.
She nodded slightly, the look of weariness settling into her aged expression. “How did you come to be here?”
“This de Soto, he’s different from the ones who came before. He threatens everything we hold dear. No matter what, Mico, he cannot be allowed to win. Defeat him, and we buy time for everyone.”
She worked her lips, as though something tasted sour. “The Death originated among the Kristianos. It began among the coastal peoples after Ayllόn’s invaders left, afflicting those who had served the Kristianos, taking out one community and then moving to another. And finally it came here.”
I nodded, sympathetic. “I suffered from one of their sicknesses down in the peninsula. I understand.”
“What you and Evening Breeze claim . . . It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Great Mico, we expected to find you strong and ready to destroy the monster as he staggers out of the forest, half-starved. Evening Breeze bet her life on it.”
She fingered the panther hide on her chair. “Assuming, that is, that you could have talked us into it. Following Evening Breeze here wasn’t the smartest thing. My brother, were he still alive, wouldn’t have cared why you came. He’d have hung her in a square and sat before her, cutting pieces off her body, burning the wounds to staunch her blood.”
“She knew that. Expected it actually.”
She glared at me. “Then why did she come here?”
“Because she believed the sacrifice of her life to be worth the monster’s destruction.”
“I had no clue until tonight.”
She paused. “What is she to you?”
I considered, then opted for most of the truth. “I won her from a petty little chief in the peninsula. The fool thought he could outshoot a Chicaza lord. After the Kristianos captured me she infiltrated their camp and carried my fevered and dying body to safety. She accepted the call of Power and followed in the wake of the Kristianos. Accompanying the Uzachile chiefs, she marched into the Kristiano camp and listened as the monsters conferred, telling us exactly what they planned.
“Forewarned by Evening Breeze, the Uzachile tried to kill de Soto. But through treachery, the Kristianos were warned and butchered the Uzachile army. Since then, she’s fought them, trapped them, and saved my life again when the Apalachee hilishaya and I sought to battle them outside Anhaica.”
“Yet she came here?”
“The stakes for which we fight are greater than the value of a single life.” I swallowed. “Even hers.”
The old woman studied me, silence stretching. “And you, High Minko? Is it worth yours?”
“If you could promise me that you would mass your forces and kill de Soto’s army to the last man, I would open a vein here, tonight.”
“Curse me for a fool, but I believe you.” She stared absently into the distance. “Very well, let’s get to the facts. Given the Death, I doubt I can gather even five hundred men.”
Her admission staggered me. “What about the Catawba and Cherokee? Could you recruit them in time? Or has the Death been there, too?”
“It hasn’t. If the Kristianos are as close as you say, it’s too late. Not that I’d want them down here to see just how badly we’ve suffered. That might bode worse for us than the Kristianos.” She squinted. “But if we were to withdraw, leave them only vacant towns and empty granaries, perhaps we could keep them weak while we gather some kind of resistance.”
“That’s how the Apalachee did it. Picking them off by ones and twos, killing their cabayos. But it will come at a cost.”
She gave me a cunning look. “If we bleed them, somehow entice them to go fight the Nations upriver, I might buy time for my people to recover.”
“Perhaps. Can you figure out a way to keep Cofitachequi bellies full at the same time de Soto’s are left empty?”
She made a dismissive gesture. “Stored food isn’t a problem. My people were dying faster than they could eat it. And most were out in the forests, hunting and gathering.” Then she shook her head. “The biggest obstacle is coordinating any kind of resistance. So many of the nobles are dead that my command structure is in shambles. The talwas are chafing, the micos unsure. The Death has shaken confidence in the Sun Clan. I was supposed to protect them.”
And how does a government without officials coordinate anything?
She sighed again, looking beaten.
I shifted the mace. “However this works out, great Mico, abandon Telemico. Strip it of food. Once de Soto’s out of the forest, this is the first place he will come.”
“Only if he can find it. My people will not betray me.”
“They will,” I said softly. “The common people, farmers and craftsmen, might be willing to die rather than betray you. But when de Soto starts burning their families alive, and cutting their sons and daughters apart before their eyes, they will talk.”
She gave me a look that seared the souls. “They would do that?”
“Didn’t Ayllόn?”
Her expression was one of misery. “Thank you for your advice, High Minko. Go and have a pleasant evening. I have much to think about.”
“Yes, you do.” I paused. “Oh, one last thing. Blooming White Rose is right about the people’s need to see their leaders in this time of invasion, but whatever happens, don’t let her fall into de Soto’s hands. The monster wouldn’t hesitate to use her against you.”
She nodded, lost in thought. “Have a good night, High Minko.”
I considered saying something about Pearl Hand but thought better of it. Showing too much interest would give the old vulture even more leverage than she already had. Far better that she simply believe Pearl Hand was my bound woman.
The yatika indicated that I should follow him.
At the door I took one last look, seeing the old mico, slumped in her chair, bowed under the entire weight of her world.
We had descended the long stairs—an escorting warrior carrying a torch to guide our way—when a young man approached, touched his chin, and whispered to the yatika. The yatika in turn gave me a quizzical glance and shrugged, leading us not back to my house, but to an imposing dwelling on a slight rise overlooking the plaza and adjacent to the palace.
I frowned, gripping the heavy mace, as the yatika stepped onto the porch and spoke to a warrior standing by the door.
“What is happening?” I called.
The yatika gave me a slight bow, saying, “The lady Blooming White Rose requests an audience with you, High Minko.”
I almost said no, then sighed. One doesn’t turn down the opportunity to learn all he can of a people or their politics.
“Of course. I am honored.”
The door opened and I was admitted to an opulently furnished room, replete with carvings, the finest textiles, and burnished, stamped-patterned ceramics. Beautifully dyed hides were draped over the pole beds. The place was huge, perhaps twenty-five paces in each direction. I walked across tawny matting and looked up to see the high roof, clouded with smoke.
I was ushered to a raised seat before the low fire, given a ceramic mug of what tasted like raspberry juice mixed with mint. Then the yatika headed for the door.
So I am to be alone with White Rose? What kind of trap could this be? Should I order him to stay? Before I could decide, he was out the door. I was on my feet, ready to follow, when White Rose stepped out from behind one of the door curtains in the rear.
“High Minko,” she said in greeting, almost floating across the room; the thin white dress she was wearing conformed to her ripe young body as if molded. That was no accident. Yes, yes, I was male enough to appreciate the promise in those high breasts, her narrow waist, and what lay hidden deep inside her delightfully shaped hips.
I nodded, cradling my drink with one hand, the mace in the other. “Lady,” I answered cautiously. “Do you always receive strange men without an escort?”
She gave me a beguiling smile. “It is said that Chicaza men are most particular about their behavior in the company of women.”
“You know a lot about a people on the other side of the world.”
She smiled at that, seating herself across from me, knees together as was proper. I wondered about that virgin’s belt she wore.
“How was my aunt?”
“We discussed the coming of the Kristianos. I’m sure she will give you the details.”
I watched her cover disappointment with a disarming smile. “We share everything.”
Of course they did. I gave her a great big smile in return. “Why am I here?”
“To talk.” She gestured her innocence with a willowy motion.
I set the drink down. “About what?”
“Well . . . about Chicaza. I have heard only stories. Your people are supposed to be terribly fierce. And they are said to take honor most seriously. Is it true that they field the finest military in the world, that they rarely lose a battle?”
“With the exception of the Kristianos, you have heard correctly. I will also assume that you’ve heard we get right to the point. What is yours?”
She dropped the mask, giving me that cunning look. “I am thinking about taking you with me tomorrow.”
“You make an assumption that I would go.”
She considered her words, rubbing her delicate hands together. “My aunt is old, and Cofitachequi has been shaken by the Death. The people have become disheartened, feeling somehow that Power has abandoned us. They need a symbol, something that can give them new hope.”
“And what would that be?”
She stared straight into my eyes. “Perhaps an outsider, a great lord who was sent to us in our time of need. A man who could be equated with the heroes back in the Beginning Times. Someone strong, capable. A mighty warrior who could reform our military and knows other Nations. I think we need someone who would cow the rebellious talwas and lesser micos, cause them to think twice about challenging an order.”
“That might be a moot point when the Kristianos arrive.”
“Have you commanded armies?”
I couldn’t help but think about how Uncle had made me direct imaginary formations into battle. And then I remembered the day I gave orders to the remnants of the shattered Uzachile warriors.
I chuckled. “And what would induce me to do this?”
Her gaze didn’t waver as she said, “The day is coming when the Cofitachequi mico will be forced to relinquish her authority to her heir.” She paused. “But tell me, High Minko, who governs in your place while you roam about the world?”
“And why are you here and not there?”
The girl was no one’s fool. “That is between me and my Spirit Being.”
She was expecting any answer but that. Two little frown lines incised her forehead. She pressed her hands together, leaning forward. “So you are a reverent man? The people would respond to that.”
“I take Power very seriously.”
“What you said about the Kristianos . . . Are they that dangerous?”
“Lady, I watched them destroy the best the Uzachile could muster—and no matter what you’ve heard, Uzachile fight well. Hundreds were left dead, and to my knowledge, not a single Kristiano died. My Chicaza are the best in our world, but the Kristianos would cut them to ribbons.”
“Yet you came here? Looking to us to defeat them?”
“What Kristianos cannot do is feed themselves.” I grinned at the thought. “After weeks in the forest, they’ll be starving, disorganized, their cabayos down to bone racks. Had the Death not come, Cofitachequi would have been able to crush them to the last man.”
She frowned at that. “What do you mean they can’t feed themselves?”
“They don’t know how to live off the country.” I tapped my mace. “By the time they stumble out of the wilderness, they’ll probably be prepared to trade their souls to their diablo for a solid meal.”
She thought about that for a long time. “Why did you think we would be willing to attack them?”
“Untold wealth in hierro, beads, armor, and fabric, along with the prestige of having destroyed them. Not a bad bargain.”
“But the Death changed all that.”
“Unfortunately.” I fixed her with a hard stare. “I understand why you think you have to go out there. Yes, your people need to see their leaders, to know they are not abandoned. But if the Kristianos get out of the forest, reorganize, your best hope lies in evacuating the country ahead of them. Burn the towns—the granaries, too, if you can’t relocate the food. If you try to face them in the open, they’ll inflict terrible defeats. The way to take them is to ambush a few at a time, lure them into traps.”
She studied my face. “You certainly act like a high minko.”
“Uncle would be so proud.”
She smiled at that. “I think I could come to like you. You don’t treat me as a child. But attacking them by ones and twos? Ambushes, traps? You’re talking about a long and drawn-out conflict. My people need to attend to their farms, rebuild. We can’t invest in an endless raiding war.”
“Once Kristianos realize there’s no gold here, they’ll be headed somewhere else. You just need to encourage them to leave sooner rather than later.”
“Can they be dealt with? Perhaps with a delegation?”
“No,” I answered coldly. “Pearl— Evening Breeze and I attended one such meeting before Napetuca. She understands their language and heard every bit of treachery they discussed.”
“What did the Uzachile have to offer them? I mean, surely there must be some common ground between—”
“There isn’t. Stay as far from their clutches as possible.”
She gave me a crooked smile. “Afraid you’ll lose me to this de Soto?”
“We haven’t established that I’m the man you’re looking for. And de Soto is a monster without souls. He’s going to be interested only in food for his men, people to carry his supplies, and gold. Nothing more.”
“So, food is everything . . . his weakness, if you will.” She was calculating just how to use that. “But once fed, you tell me his military is invincible.” She gave me a crafty glance. “Currently, Cofitachequi is vulnerable to all of our neighbors. Is there a way to turn the Kristianos against the Coosa, or perhaps the Algonquian Nations up north?”
I arched an eyebrow. “When Holata Uzachile tried that, they murdered hundreds, took his town, and enslaved his people. Did the Chicora benefit under an alliance with Ayllόn?”
“But if they were handled correctly? Manipulated to our will?”
I spread my arms. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? White Rose, they’re only interested in gold, food, and what they can take. You can’t manipulate them, intimidate them, or bend them to your will.”
Her frown lines deepened. “Everyone can be manipulated.”
“Not Kristianos.”
She smiled at me then. “It seems you have a great deal to teach me. All the more reason you should come with me tomorrow.”
“What about Fire Otter?”
“He’s harmless. Aunt’s darling little boy. In her dreams she sees us married.”
“Apparently you don’t?”
“The candidates I was considering didn’t survive the Death. And things have changed. You intrigue me, High Minko. Everything you said tonight has value. Imagine what fruit future conversations would bear. My Nation is in need of new blood, and I am in need of a confident and capable man. I will see Cofitachequi return to her former glory. Are you the man who can help me accomplish that goal?”
I arched a skeptical eyebrow. “So, we can be married tomorrow?”
“Perhaps we should see how well we can work together.” She gave me a provocative smile. “Once away from prying eyes, we can . . . shall we say, explore the possibilities of our relationship?” Her lips parted, excitement in her large dark eyes as she leaned close.
I arched a conspiratorial eyebrow of my own as I considered the implications. “Exploration always has possibilities. Unfortunately, the Cofitachequi mico has already requested that I be available for consultation as word from the scouts comes in. Meanwhile, go and fulfill your duty to your people. I’ll be here when you return.” I smiled. “With a much richer understanding of Cofitachequi’s needs.”
She rose, tightening the virgin’s belt at her slim waist, as if making a point. The action pulled the gauzy fabric against her breasts and emphasized the curve of her hips.
She stepped close, and I could smell the magnolia petals she’d rubbed in her hair. “I’ll even let you keep Evening Breeze. She did me a favor once, though I didn’t know it at the time.”
“Indeed? What sort of favor?”
She gave me a saucy wink for an answer. “Thank you for a delightful evening, High Minko.”
I inclined my head respectfully. “When we know more about the Kristianos and the condition they are in, we can all plan with greater effectiveness.”
Her eyes searched mine, as if to ensure that I heard the full intent of her words. “I will do whatever it takes to return Cofitachequi to greatness. Pay any price.” Her smile turned seductive. “Assuming the right man will help me.”
Her desperation was palpable; I needed only to step forward, pull her to me, and everything she had was mine. A prickle ran down my spine. Forcing a conspiratorial smile, I said, “I look forward to your return.”
I stepped out into the night, the mace clutched in my hand, and wondered if the old mico knew just how dangerous her niece was. Or the lengths to which White Rose would go to feed her ambitions.
The yatika was waiting, and as I emerged, he nodded and dutifully led the way to the house I shared with Blood Thorn.
When I entered, the dogs mobbed me, looking behind as if wondering where Pearl Hand might be. Gods, Black Shell, don’t even think about it.
I walked over to our bedding on the wall benches. In the dim light of the fire I began stripping off all of my finery.
“Interesting evening?” Blood Thorn asked from his blankets.
“You might say that. The mico has a broken empire. Kristianos are about to appear at any moment, and there’s no way to stop them. Lady White Rose is busy maneuvering to become the next mico and plotting how to return the Nation to prosperity—with a Chicaza-style army to increase its holdings. Oh, and I can marry her and do the heavy lifting.”
“Silly me. I thought you were out accomplishing something important.”
After a moment, he asked, “And Pearl Hand?”
“I think she’s safe for the moment. If I marry White Rose, I can keep Pearl Hand, too.”
“Charming little household.”
“Definitely.”
Blood and pus, I remembered what I hated about politics.
That left me with a long night ahead, worrying each instant about what was happening to Pearl Hand. And wondering why White Rose had unleased a rattling hail of worry deep down in my gut.