"But the Paramount would then have an inventory of all sources of wealth filed," Danny said.
"At which time, he would, at last, become available for the necessary ceremonies," Suukmel said. "When control of the patrimony was transferred, everyone knew now exactly how much could and would be extracted in taxes. Displaced regents, if they showed promise, could then be incorporated into the new chancery."
"And these men, too, were added to the growing corps of Kitheri supporters," Danny observed.
"Naturally."
Danny looked at her with sly delight. "And, if I might know, my lady: to whom did the chancery report?"
"I was, by that time, a person of some modest influence," Suukmel murmured, and remained carefully composed even while he laughed and shook his head. "If gross irregularities in territorial affairs were discovered," Suukmel continued, "two paths were open. The day before his investiture, a new lord could be made aware of his ancestors’ dishonor in a private meeting with the Paramount. This man was given to understand that the Paramount had chosen to allow him to remain in office, and expected gratitude."
"And cooperation, no doubt," said Danny. "But if the lineage was unalterably opposed to changes favored by the Paramount?"
"If the lineage was unyielding," Suukmel said carefully, "then news of its crimes would be broadcast, and these unworthy men were declared VaHaptaa—outlaws, their patrimonies forfeit."
"And to enforce such judgments?"
"There was a small troop of martial tournament champions, equipped and fielded with monies brought in by the new taxes." She looked across the valley. "There was also the war in the south," she said. "My lord Kitheri could make it seem both honorable and necessary to the more… traditional men that they defend Jana’ata territory and our way of life."
"Leaving northern land and titles open, when they were killed." Suukmel’s chin lifted, acknowledging the inference. "Two birds with one stone," said Danny, but left that untranslated.
"YOU WILL DOUBT THIS," SUUKMEL WARNED DANNY ON ANOTHER DAY, "but it is true. Hlavin had support among the Runa. He had learned to value their capabilities and made them a part of his plans. One of his earliest decrees regarding the Runa was that their urban specialists send delegations to the Inbrokar court. Their advice was sought in all that concerned them, and he did this despite opposition from the lesser nobility."
At Suukmel’s suggestion and under the direction of her former maid, the discreetly emancipated Taksayu, a tapestry of Runa informants was woven during Kitheri’s first years as Paramount. Reports soon filtered back from cooks and valets, secretaries and masseurs; from groundskeepers, research assistants; from scullery maids and sexual servants. "Before long," Suukmel said, "my lord Kitheri knew each great household’s disputes and discontents, their secret alliances and petty jealousies—"
"And knowledge is power," Danny interjected.
Suukmel chuckled, a low and throaty sound. "Now that is a wise proverb," she granted.
"And how were the Runa compensated for their contribution to Kitheri’s plans?"
"Naturally, the informants themselves had to be left in place, but their children were allowed to express an opinion about their area of work. And when the time came, about a preferred mate. These were my friend Taksayu’s suggestions," she told him, pausing a moment to mourn the dead. "She was a Runao, but my lord Kitheri took wisdom where he found it. He even established pensions for Runa informants who had reached the age of slaughter—"
"Who could feed him information—a commodity more valuable than meat," Danny pointed out coldly.
Not catching his tone, Suukmel went on, anxious to explain. "This was a radical change, in reality, but it was considered a harmless eccentricity of the Paramount by those whose domestics were pensioned. Who would object to an old retainer living off the Kitheri largesse?" she asked rhetorically. "Meat, after all, could be had from villagers backbred to doorkeepers and fan-pullers and draft Runa—"
She fell silent, stopped by his stare.
"It was the only way we knew," she said, tired all at once. "Dani, you must understand it was not only the Runa who were born to their fate— we all were! Birth rank, the rank of one’s family—even for a man, those determined every detail of life! The length of his claws, which door he was permitted to pass through. Whom he could marry, what his work would be. The number of earrings he could wear, the grade of perfumes he could buy! And yes—what portion of a Runa carcass his meat would come from. Dani, Hlavin meant to change all that!"
"But change takes time," Danny said. "Another proverb."
Suukmel raised her tail slightly and let it drop: as you say. "I think perhaps that it is not change but resistance to change that takes time."
"But surely, my lady, the Paramount did not pension those elderly Runa purely to reward their usefulness with kindness," Danny pointed out, more aggressive now that he knew her better. "The accumulated knowledge of Runa from all over Inbrokar was made directly available to Kitheri’s chancery, to Kitheri’s private police and to Kitheri himself."
"Yes! Of course! Can you build a wall with a single stone?" she asked. "The sign of a good decision is the multiplicity of reasons for it. If more than one goal is served, then a decision is more likely to be wise—"
To her surprise, Danny began to speak, fell silent and turned away. She understood that he was distressed by what she had just said, and felt compelled to make her words clearer for him.
"Dani, when we change things, we are like the little gods: we act, and from each act falls a cascade of consequence—some things expected and desired, some surprising and regrettable. But we are not like your God who sees everything! We cannot know the future, so we anticipate as much as we can, and judge by the outcome if we have done rightly." His back was stiff, his breathing odd. She had never seen him react this way. "Dani, have I offended you?" she asked, astonished.
He spun, his face slack with dismay. "My lady: never!" He pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. "You are the instrument of my conscience," he said lightly. He tried to smile, but it was not convincing, not even to Suukmel, who still found foreign faces difficult to interpret. Seeing her confusion, he performed an obeisance. "My lady, it was once my belief that when a multiplicity of reasons is sought, the rightness of an act is suspect, that one is trying to justify the unjustifiable. Long ago, I made a decision for which I sought a multitude of reasons. That decision brought me here to you, but I will not know if it was right until I am judged by my God."
She considered him for a long time, to understand his face in such moments, to memorize the scent of shame, to learn the sound of scruple in his voice. Then she turned toward the N’Jarr valley, where low stone walls glowed like gold in morning’s slanting light. "Look," she commanded, her arm describing a graceful arc, sweeping from west to east. "And listen," she said, for all the children, Runa and Jana’ata, were singing. "How can you doubt?"
He did not reply, but only looked at her with his small, black eyes held wide. That day they walked home in silence, and did not speak of this again.
"WHAT YOU HAVE TOLD ME EXPLAINS POLITICAL POWER, MY LADY," Danny said later that year, "but there was more to Kitheri than that, I think. Men followed him, but not for a single traja’anron blossom or a pennant or a rhyming triplet. And not, I think, for wealth or power or even breeding rights."