When the maid called softly from the doorway of the chamber, Mara shut the screen. ‘I shall dress and breakfast at once,’ she instructed. ‘Then I will see this new hadonra, Jican, in the study.’
The maid bowed and hastened to the wardrobe, while Mara shook the tangles from her hair. Denied the comfort of servants in the temple, Mara reached automatically for her brush.
‘My Lady, don’t I please you?’ The young maid’s bearing revealed distress.
Mara frowned, annoyed by her thoughtless lapse. ‘You please me well enough.’ She surrendered the hairbrush and sat still as the serving girl began to tend her hair. As the maid worked, Mara conceded to herself that her decision to see Jican was as much to avoid Nacoya as to learn more of her estates. The old nurse had a natural tendency to be grumpy in the early morning. And beyond her normal ill temper, Nacoya would have volumes to say to the young girl on her responsibilities as Ruling Lady.
Mara sighed, and the maid paused, waiting for some indication from her Lady if there was a problem. When Mara said nothing, the girl continued, tentatively, as if fearing her Lady’s disapproval. Mara mulled over the questions for Jican, knowing that eventually she would have to contend with Nacoya’s scolding manner. Again she sighed, much as she had when facing one of Nacoya’s punishments for some girlish prank, and again, the maid halted to see if her mistress was displeased. After a momentary pause, the girl resumed arranging her mistress’s hair, and Mara became caught up in the questions of estate management.
Later, dressed and groomed, Mara sat with her elbow propped in a mound of cushions. Her lip was pinched between her teeth in concentration as she reviewed the latest of a sizeable heap of scrolls. Small, sun-bronzed, and nervous as a thyza bird, the hadonra, Jican, looked over her shoulder. Presently he extended a tentative finger.
‘The profits are listed there, my Lady. As you note, they are respectable.’
‘I see that, Jican.’ Mara laid the scroll on her knees as Nacoya ducked her head around the door. ‘I am busy, Nacoya. I will see you shortly, perhaps at noon.’
The old nurse shook her head, her hairpins as crooked as ever. ‘By my lady’s leave, it is now an hour past noon.’
Mara raised her brows in surprise. She sympathized with her father’s impatience with the management of his far-flung holdings. The task was more involved than she had suspected. Yet, unlike her father, she found the intricacies of finance fascinating. With a rueful smile at Nacoya’s impatience, the Lady of the Acoma said, ‘I lost track of time. But Jican is nearly finished. You may wait if you wish.’
Nacoya jerked her head in the negative. ‘Too much to do, Lady. Send your runner for me when you are ready. But do not delay much longer. Decisions must be made, and tomorrow is too late to consider them.’
The nurse departed. Mara heard her pause to mutter to Keyoke, standing guard in the hallway beyond. Then, drawn back to Jican and her lesson in commerce, Mara reached for another scroll. This time she commented on the balance, without the hadonra’s needing to prompt. ‘We may lack warriors, Jican, but we are strong in property, perhaps even prosperous.’
‘It is not difficult, mistress. Sotamu left clear records of the years he served your father. I but follow his example. Thyza crops have been bountiful for three years, while the hwaet blight in the plains provinces has driven high the prices of all grain – thyza, ryge, maza, even milat. With hwaet scarce, only a lazy manager carts his thyza to Sulan-Qu and sells it there. It takes only a little more effort to deal with a factor from a consortium of grain shippers in the City of the Plains.’ The small man sighed in discomfort. ‘My Lady, I mean no disrespect to any of your lofty class, but I have known many powerful lords to dislike the details of business. Yet at the same time they refuse their hadonras and factors the authority to act independently. Therefore we have traded with large houses and avoided the merchants of the city whenever we might. This has left us large profits more often than not.’
The hadonra paused, hands spread diffidently before him. Then, encouraged by the fact that Mara did not interrupt, he went on. ‘And the breeders … they are a mystery. Again I mean no disrespect, but the lords of the north seem especially shortsighted concerning choice of breeding bulls.’ More at ease, the little man shrugged in perplexity. ‘A bull that is ill-tempered and difficult to manage, but that is heavily muscled and paws the ground in fierce display, or with a large’ – he lowered his eyes in embarrassment – ‘ah, male member sells better than a fat one that will breed good meat animals, or a docile one that begets solid draught stock. So animals a cannier man might have castrated or slaughtered bring prime prices, while the best remain here, and people wonder at the quality of our herds. They say “How can the Acoma meat taste so good, when they keep such weak bulls?” I do not understand such thinking.’
Mara smiled slightly, the first relaxed expression she had shown since leaving the temple. ‘Those noble lords seek animals that reflect upon their own virility. I have no such need. And as I have no desire to be mistaken for any of my breeding stock, you may continue to select which cows and bulls to sell without regard for how their traits match up to mine.’ Jican’s eyes opened wide for an instant before he realized the girl was making a joke. He laughed slightly with her. Mara added, ‘You have done well.’
The man smiled his thanks, as if a great weight had been lifted from him. Plainly he enjoyed the responsibilities of his new office and had feared his new mistress might remove him. He was doubly pleased to discover not only that he would continue as hadonra, but that Lady Mara recognized his worth.
But Mara had inherited her father’s instinct for governance, even if it was only just beginning to emerge, and knew she had a competent, perhaps even gifted, estate manager beside her. ‘Your diligence in business brings honour to the Acoma as much as our soldiers’ bravery,’ she finished. ‘You may leave now, and attend your duties.’
The hadonra bowed from a kneeling position until his forehead touched the floor, an obeisance more abject than required from a man in his position. ‘I bask in the sunlight of my mistress’s praise.’
Jican rose and departed as a house servant came forward to gather the scrolls from the floor. Nacoya hurried through the doorway as the hadonra passed by. More servants followed at her heels with trays of refreshments, and with a sigh, Mara wished her overly abundant domestic staff could be transformed into soldiers.
Nacoya bowed, then sat before Mara had a chance to grant her leave. Over the soft clink of the serving ware and the bustle of servants setting down trays, she said, ‘Does my Lady think she should work all morning and take no meals?’ Her old, dark eyes turned critical. ‘You’ve lost weight since you left for the temple. Some men might think you scrawny.’
Still preoccupied with her discussion with Jican, Mara spoke as though she had not heard. ‘I have undertaken to learn of my estates and properties. You chose with care in selecting this Jican, Nacoya. Though I remember Sotamu with affection, this man seems a master of commerce.’
Nacoya’s manner softened. ‘I presumed much, mistress, but decisiveness was necessary at the time.’
‘You did well.’ Mara regarded the array of food, the odour of fresh thyza bread wakening her awareness of hunger. She reached for a slice, frowned, then added, ‘And I’m not scrawny. Our meals at the temple were not so plain as you think.’ She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. She regarded her indomitable nurse. ‘Now, what must we do?’
Nacoya pursed her lips, a sure sign that she broached what she guessed to be a difficult subject. ‘We must move quickly to strengthen your house, Lady. Without blood family, you make a tempting target for many. Even those with no prior cause for strife with the Acoma might look upon your holdings with an envious and ambitious eye. Land and herds might not tempt a minor lord to move against your father, but against a young girl with no training? “There is a hand behind every curtain,”’ she quoted.
‘“And