The colour in her cheeks was high Lujan could not tell if she was flushed from the heat or still angered from the argument prior to leaving her estate. Soldiers in green enamelled armour came to a halt, and the sweating bearers set the litter down.Īn officer in a Strike Leader’s plumed helm gave his hand to Mara and she emerged from her litter.
The Ruling Lady of the Acoma motioned for her escort to stop. If the stench troubled her, she showed no sign. Sheltered behind the curtains of her brightly lacquered litter, Lady Mara wafted air across her face with a scented fan. Despite the wayward currents, the air was hot and thick, reeking of confined and unwashed humanity mingled with the smell of river sewage and rotting garbage from the dump behind the market. Dust swirled in little eddies, settling grit over the palisade that surrounded the slave market.
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