Jiro tapped his chin with an elegantly manicured finger as he said, ‘This factor’s removal is significant?’
Chumaka said, ‘Yes, my Lord. The loss of that agent will hamper Acoma operation in the East. I can assume that almost all information coming from that region was funneled through Ontoset.’
Jiro smiled, no warmth in his expression. ‘Well then, we’ve stung them. But now they also know we are watching them with our own agents.’
Chumaka said, ‘That was inevitable, my Lord. I am surprised they hadn’t been aware of us sooner. Their network is well established and practiced. That we observed them undetected as long as we did was something close to miraculous.’
Seeing a gleam in his First Adviser’s eyes, Jiro said, ‘What else?’
‘I said this was related to the long-dead Lord of the Tuscai, from years before you were born. Just before Jingu of the Minwanabi destroyed House Tuscai, I had unearthed the identity of one of the dead Lord’s key agents, a grain merchant in Jamar. When the Tuscai natami was buried, I assumed the man continued his role as an independent merchant in earnest. He had no public ties to House Tuscai, therefore no obligation to assume the status of outcast.’
Jiro went still at this implied, venal dishonesty. A master’s servants were considered cursed by the gods if he should die; his warriors became slaves or grey warriors – or had, until Lady Mara had despicably broken the custom.
Chumaka ignored his master’s discomfort, caught up as he was in reminiscence. ‘My assumption was incorrect, as I now have cause to suspect. In any event, that wasn’t of significance until recently.
‘Among those who came and went in Ontoset were a pair of men I know to have served at the grain merchant’s in Jamar. They showed me the connection. Since no one beside Lady Mara has taken grey warriors to house service, we can extrapolate that the Spy Master and his former Tuscai agents are now sworn to the Acoma.’
‘So we have this link,’ Jiro said. ‘Can we infiltrate?’
‘It would be easy enough, my Lord, to fool the grain merchant, and get our own agent inside.’ Chumaka frowned. ‘But the Acoma Spy Master would anticipate that. He is very good. Very.’
Jiro cut off this musing with a chopping motion.
Brought back to the immediate issue, Chumaka came to his point. ‘At the very least, we’ve stung the Acoma by making them shut down a major branch of their organisation in the East. And far better, we now know the agent in Jamar is again operative; that man must sooner or later report to his master, and then we are back on the hunt. This time I will not let fools handle the arrangements and blunder as they did in Ontoset. If we are patient, in time we will have a clear lead back to the Acoma Spy Master.’
Jiro was less than enthusiastic. ‘We may waste all our efforts, now that our enemy knows his inside agent was compromised.’
‘True, my master.’ Incomo licked his teeth. ‘But we are ahead, in the long view. We know the former Tuscai Spy Master works now for Lady Mara. I had made inroads into that net, before the Tuscai were destroyed. I can resume observation of the agents I suspected as being Tuscai years ago. If those men are still in the same positions, that simple fact will confirm them as Acoma operatives. I will set more traps, manned by personnel whom I will personally instruct. Against this Spy Master we will need our best. Yes.’ The First Adviser’s air became self-congratulatory. ‘It is chance that led us to the first agent, and almost netted us someone highly placed.’
Chumaka wafted the document to fan his flushed cheeks. ‘We now watch the house, and I am certain our watchers are being watched, so I have others watching to see who is watching us …’ He shook his head. ‘My opponent is wily beyond comprehension. He –’
‘Your opponent?’ Jiro interrupted.
Chumaka stifled a start and inclined his head in respect. ‘My Lord’s enemy’s servant. My opposite, if you will. Permit an old man this small vanity, my Lord. This servant of the Acoma who opposes my work is a most suspicious and clever man.’ He referred again to his paper. ‘We will isolate this other link in Jamar. Then we can pursue the next –’
‘Spare me the boring particulars,’ Jiro broke in. ‘I had thought I commanded you to pursue whoever is trying to defame the Anasati by planting false evidence on the assassin who killed my nephew?’
‘Ah,’ Chumaka said brightly, ‘But the two events are connected! Did I not say so earlier?’
Unaccustomed to sitting without the comfort of cushions, Jiro shifted his weight. ‘If you did, only another mind as twisted as yours would have understood the reference.’
This the Anasati First Adviser interpreted as a compliment. ‘Master, your forbearance is touching.’ He stroked the paper as if it were precious. ‘I have proof, at last. Those eleven Acoma agents in the line that passed information across Szetac Province that were mysteriously murdered in the same month – they were indeed connected with five others who also died in the household of Tasaio of the Minwanabi.’
Jiro wore a stiff expression that masked rising irritation. Before he could speak, Chumaka rushed on, ‘They were once Tuscai agents, all of them. Now it appears they were killed to eradicate a breach in the Acoma chain of security. We had a man in place in Tasaio’s household. Though he was dismissed when Mara took over the Minwanabi lands, he is still loyal to us. I have his testimony, here. The murders inside Tasaio’s estate house were done by the Hamoi Tong.’
Jiro was intrigued. ‘You think Mara’s man duped the tong into cleaning up an Acoma mishap?’
Chumaka looked smug. ‘Yes. I think her far too clever Spy Master made the error of forging Tasaio’s chop. We know the Obajan spoke with the Minwanabi Lord. Both were reportedly angry – had it been with each other, Tasaio would have died long before Mara brought him down. If the Acoma were behind the destruction of their own compromised agents, and they used the tong as an unwitting tool to rid themselves of that liability, then grave insult was done to the tong. If this happened, the Red Flower Brotherhood would seek vengeance on its own.’
Jiro digested this with slitted eyes. ‘Why involve the tong in what seems a routine cleanup? If Mara’s man is as good as your ranting, he would hardly be such a fool.’
‘It had to be a move of desperation,’ Chumaka allowed. ‘Tasaio’s regime was difficult to infiltrate. For our part, we placed our agent there before the man became Lord, when he was Subcommander in the Warlord’s army invading Midkemia.’ As Jiro again showed impatience, Chumaka sighed. How he wished his master could be schooled to think and act with more foresight; but Jiro had always fidgeted, even as a boy. The First Adviser summed up. ‘Mara had no agents in House Minwanabi that were not compromised. The deaths therefore had to be an outside job, and the tong’s dealings with Tasaio offered a convenient remedy.’
‘You guess all this,’ Jiro said.
Chumaka shrugged. ‘It is what I would have done in his position. The Acoma Spy Master excels at innovation. We could have made contact with the net in Ontoset, and traced its operation for ten years, and never once made the connection between the agents in the North, the others in Jamar, and the communication line that crossed Szetac. To come as far as fast as we have is more due to luck than to my talents, master.’
Jiro seemed unimpressed by the topic that enthralled his First Adviser. He seized instead on the matter closest