Deceiver

Deceiver

C . J .Cherryh

Foreigner 11

To Jane.

DECEIVER

1

It was an interesting little pile, the stack of wax-stained vellum that occupied the right side of Bren Cameron’s desk, in his office, in Najida estate, on the west coast of the continent.

This stack of letters held treason. It held connivance. It held the intended fall of the whole coast.

It also held a set of interesting names.

Machigi of Taisigi clan was one of them.

Now therewas a piece of work. A younger man, quite young for a clan lord, in fact, he had inherited the ambitions of his predecessors down on the southern coast, but he had proved himself far, far more clever—and more dangerous.

A child named Tiajo was another name. A child of fifteen— and probably not as innocent of political ambitions as her tender age indicated. Machigi had intended to marry her off, a political wedge into the west coast—and as quickly make her a widow.

Once her husband was dead, of course, her relatives would step in to help run his estate—and that estate, a Maschi clan property, held treaty rights up and down the southeast coast of the continentc a district long coveted by Taisigi clan.

The third name, everywhere in those papers, was the addressee and source of those papers: Baiji of Maschi clan, nephew of Lord Geigi of Kajiminda. Baiji, who was the former lord of Kajiminda, betrothed of Tiajo—and the object of Machigi’s long-running plot.

Baiji, who happened, at the moment, to be locked in the basement under Bren Cameron’s feet, a prisoner stripped of all titles.

Najida, Bren’s estate, sat on a peninsula within Sarini Province, on the southwestern coast of the aishidi’tat, the nation-state that spanned the continent. Bren Cameron, paidhi-aiji, was interpreter and advisor to Tabini-aiji, who was ruler of the whole aishidi’tat. And in recent days, Bren himself had become the target of an assassination attempt directed from Taisigi clan.

Hence the sound of hammering, which was distantly audible. The staff was repairing damage to the garden portico from the latest of Machigi’s little venturesc and fortifying the house against the next.

Meanwhile, up on the space station, Lord Geigi himself, the lord of Kajiminda andof all of Sarini Province, had enough to do running atevi affairs on the station. He had not been pleased to hear the account of his nephew’s misdeeds.

Likewise Ilisidi, Tabini-aiji’s grandmother, the aiji-dowager, who had happened to be Bren-paidhi’s guest—along with her great-grandson Cajeiri, son of Tabini-aiji—had not been pleased with Baiji of Kajiminda orhis promised bride, no, not in the least.

And factor in the Edi, the aboriginal people of the island of Mospheira. The Edi, uprooted by the treaty that had given that island to humans, had settled on this coast of the continentc and had immediately become the enemies of Taisigi clan and their whole district, further south. The Edi, lacking a lord of their own, had been represented in the aishidi’tat by the lords of Kajiminda for the last two centuries, and the Edi were up in arms about their old enemies of Taisigi clan trying to move into that lordship.

Bren Cameron’s job as paidhi-aiji, interpreter, and mediator between Tabini-aiji and the two human powers—one on earth and one above the heavens—ordinarily included occasional peacemaking between atevi factions. But in this case, he was in the middle of the conflict, his erstwhile neighbor Baiji was the objectof the conflictc and Taisigi clan?

Taisigi clan was not in the least interested in peace or mediation. In the whole history of the aishidi’tat, the Taisigin Marid had never been interested in peacec never mind their recent overtures toward Tabini-aiji. Taisigi clan and its local association, the Marid, had claimed the southwestern coast of the continent two hundred years ago, when humans had landed on the earth. They had claimed it when the aishidi’tat itself had been forming. And, denied possession of that coast, and having the Edi moved in on that land, the Taisigi and their local association had tried to break up the aishidi’tat from inside. Then they had tried to overthrow it by seceding from it. Then they had rejoined the aishidi’tat, and most recently had tried to rule it by backing a coup in the capital—all these maneuvers without success. This last year, Tabini had come back to power in Shejidan on a surge of popular sentiment and driven the usurper out, hounding him from refuge to refuge while the Taisigin and the Marid as a whole had tried to look entirely innocent of the whole thing.

But neither had the aishidi’tat ever succeeded in bringing the Marid district under firm control. Lately, Tabini-aiji had even hesitated in kicking the Farai, another Marid clan, out of Bren-paidhi’s apartment in the capital. Oh, no, the Farai were all forTabini-aiji’s return: they had helped him; they were a strong voice down in the Marid, and they could be negotiated with. Of course the Marid had seen the light, and really wanted peacec so the Farai could not be tossed out of Bren-paidhi’s apartment. The apartment was theirs, after all, granted the aiji would only acknowledge they had inherited it via an obscure marriage with a fading clan fifty years agoc

It was, after all, all they wanted in return for their persuading the other clans of the Marid to make a lasting commitment to the aishidi’tat and finally put an end to all the rebellionsc

This stack of incriminating letters—which the double-dealing Baiji had, oh so slyly, preserved behind a panel of his office—told quite another story about the Farai and the whole Marid.

The letters represented the proposed marriage, involving a modest marriage portion of family antiquities that weren’t Baiji’s to dispose of—they were Lord Geigi’s—and the union of Baiji with young Tiajo and her family down in the Marid.

Fifteen. Old enough to be auctioned off, young enough that the question of an heir could be delayed a year or two. Long enough, one supposed, for the Marid to lay firm claim to the estate itself, by sheer firepower. Had the marriage actually happened, Tiajo’s southern clan, one of three major clans in the five-clan Marid association, would naturally have moved some of its servants in to attend the bride. Baiji would have been dead within a year of the bride producing an heir.

And immediately on Baiji’s untimely death, the grieving widow would have immediately laid claim to Kajiminda in the name of whatever offspring she had produced. She would get the backing of the entire Marid—and the Marid would finally gain that foothold on the southwest coast that they had been plotting so long to get.

Baiji hadn’t planned on that latter part—the part about him dying—but anybody of basic intelligence and any experience at all of atevi politics could see that one coming.

Anybody of common sense, too, could anticipate that, once in that position, and sitting in Kajiminda, young Tiajo’s family, in Dojisigi clan, would be nudging Machigi of the Taisigi for more power and importance within the Marid.

And of course the Dojisigi family members, backing Tiajo’s claim, would be sitting in Sarini Province, hiring Guild Assassins and creating their own power base on the west coast, in a bid to protect themselves within the Marid, as theirown greatest threat. They would go after Machigi.

Machigi, of course, smarter than that, would possibly assassinate his Dojisigi cousin in the Marid, possibly simply terrify him into peacec

And under the guise of an intra-associational dispute within the Marid, Machigi would take control of the Dojisigi, preparatory to setting his own relatives in command of the new Dojisigi holdings on the southwest coast.

Warfare, where it regarded the Marid, was endless. If it wasn’t directed outside, at the aishidi’tat, it was inside, clan against clan.

The aishidi’tat, under Tabini’s newly restored regime, was too busy reconstructing itself after surviving the lastattempt to kill it off. They would not want to involve themselves in an internal Marid quarrel, and they might think a Dojisigi-Taisigi power struggle would play itself out much more slowly, and give them time.

They didn’t havetime.

Young Baiji, not the brightest intellect on the west coast, had played for power of his own, and landed himself in very deep waters, which Baiji stillfailed to figure out. He didn’t, he protested, deserve being locked up, a prisoner, in the paidhi-aiji’s basement. He was innocent. He was misunderstood. He had been spying for the aiji all the while. He should be a hero to everyone. Of course he should.

Just ask him.

Baiji’s unfortunate machinations had put bullet holes in the hall outside this little office. They had caused the death of one of the aiji-dowager’s guard, the serious wounding of a young man from Najida village, and the complete ruin of the large front portico over at Kajiminda estatec not to mention the hole Bren’s own estate bus had plowed through the garage gate here at Najida, to the detriment of the adjacent garden.

Forgive Baiji? The paidhi-aiji was a generous and patient man. He was, more than anything else, a man for whom policy and the aiji’s welfare counted more than personal affront.

Baiji, however, had exceeded his tolerance in any reasonable consideration.

The quiet since the assault, about two days, had been welcome. Bren did not count on it lasting. Nor did his guest, the aiji-dowager.

They’d had the time, among first business, to recover this cache of papers from Lord Geigi’s estate at Kajiminda.

They’d had the time, too, to patch a largish hole in Toby Cameron’s boat—Bren’s brother Toby had been visiting here when all hell had broken loose, and Toby had been instrumental in thwarting the Marid in a secondary attack.

So, down at the harbor at the foot of the estate, the Brighter Dayswas now calmly at anchor beside Bren’s own Jaishan. Toby and Toby’s companion, Barb, were living aboard, not that it was safer down there on the boat, but that Najida estate was running out of room in the house. It was dangerous for Toby and Barb to be down there, exposed to view whenever they went out on deck. But it was more dangerous, potentially, to put out to sea and try to head home across the straits, in the event some southern ship was lurking offshore.

It was dangerous for them to come and go up to the house for meals. But Toby and Barb had stubbornly elected to take that risk, since the perimeter seemed secure and the walk up the winding slope from the dock was now safe from snipers—so they argued.

Toby’s presence on the continent, however, posed a risk in all senses, including political sensitivity, and Bren earnestly wished he could find one single twenty-four-hour window in which Toby could safely make a run home to Port Jackson, back to the human-run island of Mospheira, where there weren’tmembers of the Assassins’ Guild laying plans.

The grounds were under close and constant surveillance by the dowager’s young men, at least, and the aiji’s navy was out there somewhere—exactly where was classified.The house had reinforcements, besides: local fishermen and hunters. Najida villagers, ethnic Edi, had opted to support their local lord and his estate with their own informal armed force against the unwelcome intruders from the Marid. Edi folk were no strangers to violence or guerilla action, and their help was certainly not inconsiderable.

Add to that, the aiji’s forces, Assassins’ Guild from the capital at Shejidan, who had taken possession of Kajiminda grounds in support of Lord Geigi. Opposition forces had melted away from that threat—and the aiji’s forces, not to mention the Edi irregulars, were busy trying to ferret at least a dozen Marid agents out of Separti Township—having already run them out of Dalaigi. The infestation had moved, and was still dangerous—but at least it was on the run.

Further southc no word from that operation either. But one expected none.

Bren’s own bodyguard, of the Assassins’ Guild, had their own opinions of their situation, and refused to let him move about even inside the house without their being constantly aware of where he was and with whom. The aiji-dowager’s bodyguard, twenty members of that same Guild, counting Cenedi, who led them, was cooperating in house defense. And the aiji’s eight-year-old son, Cajeiri, had just acquired two young members of that Guild to back up the two Taibeni youngsters who were his bodyguards-in-training. That was twenty-six Guild personnel under the same roof, a tough objective for their enemies. They were on round-the-clock high alert, and thus far the Taisigi hadn’tmade another try.

Servant staff, too, were encouraged to stay on the estate grounds and not to go up and down the road to Najida village; and Najida fishermen were asked to stay away from the estate perimeters. The less traffic that moved on Najida estate perimeters, the easier it was to track anyone who didn’t belong there.

They were all wired for the slightest hint of trouble. Expecting it.

And a slight rap at the door drew Bren’s instant sharp attention.

Household staff never waited for an acknowledgement when they knocked. Neither did his bodyguard. And indeed, the door immediately opened. It was Banichi himselfc a looming shadow in the black uniform of his Guild. Ebon-skinned, golden-eyed, and a head and shoulders taller than a tall human, Banichi fairly well filled even an atevi-scale doorway.

And when Banichi ran errands, it wasn’t about tea or the delivery of mail.

“Bren-ji.” They were on intimate terms, he and all his bodyguard: he preferred it that way. “Tabini-aiji is approaching the front door.”

“The aiji.” Bren shoved back from the desk, appalled. Tabini was supposedto be safe in the capital. And he was here? On the decidedly unsafe west coast? Unannounced?

Bren got up and immediately took account of his coat—it was a simple beige and blue brocade for office work on a quiet day. The shirt cuffs—a modest amount of lace—he had carefully kept out of the ink in his writing a few notes. His fingers, however—

But it was late to make any improvement. Tabini didn’t stand waiting for anybody, and safety dictated Tabini should move fast if he was moving about the region.

In very fact, Bren heard the outer door open in the instant of thinking that. Banichi turned to check, took his station at the open door, and in a moment more, his partner Jago arrived and took her place: bookends, on one side of the office door and the other, while a heavy tread in the hallway heralded a second, armed advent through that open door.

The aiji’s senior bodyguard, two grim-faced men in Guild black, arrived and took theirpositions, automatic rifles in clear evidence.

Then Tabini-aiji himself, aiji of the aishidi’tat, lord of all the world except the human enclave, walked into the office. Black and red constituted the Ragi colors, the clan to which Tabini belongedc but Tabini wore no red today: Tabini blended with his black-clad bodyguard, right down to black lace cuffs. It was a mode of camouflage Tabini had used occasionally even in the halls of the Bujavid, since his return to the aijinate. He had used it habitually in that uneasy year he had spent on the run, and narrowly avoiding assassination.

A blond, pale-skinned human in a pale beige coat stood in quiet, domestic contrast to that dark and warlike company. His little office was now entirely overwhelmed with Guildsmen, all armed with automatic weapons, on alert and on business— not to mention Tabini’s own forceful presence.

Bren made a modest bow. “Aiji-ma.”

“Nand’ paidhi.” Tabini’s tone was pleasant enough. “One rejoices to find you in good health, considering your recent trouble.”

“Well, indeed, aiji-ma. And your great-grandmother and your son are both well under my roof, one is very glad to say.”

“The paidhi graciously accepted my son as his guest for— was it some seven days?”

A second bow, deeper. Numerical imprecision with any ateva was implicit irony. “Aiji-ma, one can only apologize for the succession of events.” A near-drowning and an assassination attempt were not the degree of care the aiji had a right to expect for his son on a holiday visit. “One has no excuse.”

“My wayward son is only one of my concerns in this district.”

He was remiss in his hospitality. He was utterly remiss. The aiji had arrived with the force of a thunderstorm, with considerable display of armed force, and the suddenness and implied violence had thrown his mind entirely off pace. Household staff would not be far from the door—hovering near, but too fearful to come in to the crowded office.

“Might one offer a modest tea, aiji-ma?” A round of tea was the ordinary course of any civil visit, even a visit on serious business. Tea first, and a space for quiet reflection for both parties, even in advance of knowing the reason of the call. “We could adjourn to the sitting room, should the aiji wishc”

“Doubtless my grandmother will drown us in tea in a moment,” Tabini said, still standing, arms folded, amid his guard. “The paidhi, however, can be relied upon to tell me the truth without an agenda, so my first visit is to you. What should we know?”

The paidhi indeed knew what was going on in the district. And the paidhi’s heartbeat picked up. It was a wonder the aiji couldn’t hear it from across the room.

Tell the aiji his grandmother had just promised the Edi, a hitherto warlike ethnic group, a province and a seat of their own in the legislature?

Tell the aiji his grandmother had happened to involve the aiji’s son and heir in her promises to the Edi, as a reaction to the Marid foray into Sarini Provincec the Edi being the Marid’s ancestral enemies?

“Aiji-ma.” He could personally use a cup of tea. Anything, for a social ritual and barrier. But he had no such delay, had nothing to occupy his hands and no recourse but complete honesty. “Regarding the involvement of the Marid in the neighborhoodc the aiji surely already knows that matter.” The aiji had a large intelligence network to tell him that. “The matter of the meeting at Najida, howeverc” He drew a breath. “The aiji knows that the Edi clan staff had withdrawn its services from Kajiminda. This was in displeasure at young Baiji’s dealings with the South. The proposed marriage—”

“We are aware. Continue.”

“An Edi representative approached Najida covertly, advising me as their neighbor, and advising your great-grandmother as a person of revered presence, that the Edi clan was active on the aiji’s behalf during the recent Troubles. The Edi claim to have kept the usurper’s regime from controlling this coast. They claim to have continued this action, allied with the Gan people in the North, in the face of Kajiminda’s flirtation with the South. They say that the network that protected the coast from Southern occupation during the Troubles still persists. The group that has made contact with me and with the aiji-dowagerc”

“Who has promised them a province and a lordship! Is this astonishing news true, paidhi?”

He bowed his head. “True, aiji-ma.”

“With the attendance of my minor son at the meeting!”

“That is true, aiji-ma.”

Tabini glowered. It was not pleasant to be the center of that contemplation.

“Why, paidhi, did this seem to anyone a good idea?”

“One finds oneself, officially, in a difficult position with the Edi, aiji-ma. Overmuch discussion on this matter might compromise the paidhi’s usefulness to the aiji in negotiations, but it does seem to the paidhi-aiji that there may be advantage in considering this proposal. If one may explain—”

“We appreciate the delicacy. Continue in plain words, paidhi-aiji! And limit them!”

“The Edi’s reluctance to deal with the aiji’s clan persists. That has not changed. But they are finding themselves constrained by events. They claim that they supported your regime during the Troubles and will be willing to do so now—their old enemies the Marid having backed the other side. This offer has a certain urgency, in light of the Marid move against Kajiminda.”

“Ha!”

“Additionally—” His allegiance should be to Tabini, wholly, unequivocally. An ateva would have trouble feeling any other thing. A human—a human was hardwired for ambivalent loyalties. It made a human particularly good at the job he did for Tabini.

But it made relationships a little chancier, and led, sometimes, to dangerous misunderstandings.

“One hopes the aiji will not doubt my man’chi to the aijinate and to him, personally. But the Edi request my good offices in negotiation—and they request me, as their neighbor, to maintain a certain discretion regarding their actionsc a request with which I sense no conflict with my man’chi, aiji-ma, in regard to any—past event.”

“Be careful, paidhi. Not everyone in the aishidi’tat understands your motives. And one doubts that the Edi fully appreciate the workings of your human mind.”

A bow. “One is keenly aware, aiji-ma, that one is neither Edi nor Ragi. One suspects this approach on their part represents a test of some sort.”

“A test, and not a maneuver for advantage?”

It was a good question. A dangerous question, worth considering. And he had. “One rather perceives it is a test, aiji-ma. And in my perception, such as it is, their secrecy in asking this meeting has in no wise involved ill intent toward the aiji or his representatives—rather a desire of the Edi to continue their actions under their own direction.”

“Ha! No different than they have ever demanded!”

“But these are not the foundational days, aiji-ma. These have been troubled times up and down the coast. And the Edi have behaved civilly. Thus far—thus far, they have preserved this estate during the Troubles, and kept my staff safec”

“Because their worst enemies are on the other side.” Tabini unfolded his arms and took two vigorous steps to the side before looking at him askance. “One takes it you have already—under the aiji-dowager’s encouragement—agreed to this arrangement?”

Bluntly put. Bren bit his lip. “Initially, and on the paidhi’s best judgement, aiji-ma, yes.” A deep breath. “The confidences they have given me thus far are reasonably minor, which is why I say it is a test of confidentiality. Should these confidences ever involve questionable activities—” Smuggling was only one of the local industries. Piracy was another. “Should there be criminal action—one would still feel constrained to maintain a certain discretion on their behalf, to keep the compact alive, and to keep channels of communication open, for the aiji’s ultimate benefit. The point is, one cannot be totally forthcoming to you, aiji-ma, and simultaneously maintain their confidence in me. They wish me to step aside somewhat from my attachment to the aiji: evidently they wish me to mediate on their behalf.”

A snort, an outright snort. “Ha! So theywant the human! Therein lies their isolation from the mainland! Theywere the ones to come too close to your people on the island, paidhi-aiji, not we! If you look for the causes of the War of the Landing, look to the Edi, who thought they could live in two houses at once.”

“We say—sit on the fence, aiji-ma. Having a foot in either of two territories.”

“Descriptive.”

“Humans do truly understand this behavior, aiji-ma. But my two-mindedness is a capacity that has served you. Whether the aiji chooses to grant me latitude in this case—will dictate how useful the paidhi may be as a negotiator in this matter.”

“That latitude has operated profitably in the past.”

When he had represented the human government on Mospheira. For the last number of years he had represented the aiji in Shejidan with a closeness that had moved further and further from representing his own species. Perhaps some atevi had begun to think he had profoundly changed in that regard. But, on the other hand, some still suspected his motives as secretly pro-human.

“It may not improve my acceptance among Ragi, aiji-ma, but yes, it could be profitable for me to do so. And my man’chi to you will not vary. It will not.”

“Granted, granted,” Tabini said. Which was what had made Tabini rare among atevi—an ateva willing to use a little blind faith, with adequate safeguards. “Provided you take no chances with your own safety. We are not willing to lose the paidhi-aiji. Especially to the Marid!”

Appalling thought. “One will certainly take adequate precautions.”

“You are understaffed here. Woefully understaffed.”

“Aiji-ma—one is compelled to rely on Edi clan irregulars for more extended security. And this does make me uneasy, since it is a security which involves the safety of the aiji-dowager and of your son, aiji-ma, for which I feel personally responsible. But one sees no choice. One cannot make this house or Kajiminda—in their eyes—a Ragi base of operations—or we lose a valuable ally, andthe hope of alliance.”

“Hence your failure to appeal for reinforcement.”

Embarrassing. He bowed. “Yes, aiji-ma.”

“Never mind my grandmother’s obstinacy in the case. Have these Edi the force and the organization to protect this whole district?”

“One doubts they could adequately do that, aiji-ma.” He saw what Tabini was aiming at. “They have been effective in holding this peninsula. One believes this is the territory they will insist on holding. Your forces, I understand, have Kajiminda Peninsula secure.”

A snort. Another brisk stride. Two. “As secure as a wooded peninsula can be. You know you are making yourself a target, paidhi. And a target of more than Southern ambitions. The central clans will hear that the paidhi-aiji has abandoned neutrality in this matter: that he has affiliated with a specific district, specifically one they have never favored.”

“One is aware, aiji-ma, that there may be that future difficulty.”

“More than a small difficulty. And not far in the future.” A pause, and a direct, calculating look. “One wouldsurmise you want the Farai out of your apartment.”

The Farai had camped in his capital apartment since the coup, and persisted there after Tabini’s return from exile: during the Marid’s new approach to dealing with the aiji’s authority, they had been politically difficult to toss out on their ear. Which was whythe paidhi had come to his west coast estate for a quiet retreat.

At which point the Marid, finding him lodged next door to their plot at Kajiminda, had promptly attempted to assassinate him.

Which was, of course, whyhe had the erstwhile lord of Kajiminda locked in his basement.

“My greatest concern in the capital, aiji-ma, would be yoursecurity. The return of my apartment would be a great favor to me, yes. But the Marid is up to something, I have partially exposed it, and the Farai are lodged next to yourapartment wall: thatsituation more concerns me. This whole scheme is aimed at their gaining the coast and reopening the war. Thatmakes the Farai a hazard where they are.”

A grunt. A wave of the hand. “Explaining this construction of conspiracies will take preparation. One will make known the paidhi’s displeasure with the South, and his current personal grievance against the Marid. That will explain certain of the paidhi’s moves to public opinion.”

It would go a certain way toward justifying his actions, in public opinion. If the South had attempted to assassinate the paidhi, and that event became public knowledge, the paidhi’s moves against Southern ventures on the west coast achieved complete justification in the atevi way of looking at thingsc and not just for a quarrel regarding a Bujavid apartment. It was a great favor, and politically astute, that the aiji should put that information out through the aiji’s own channels.

“One is very grateful, aiji-ma.” He was, in fact. It lessened very major difficulties. It didn’t solve them, not with the most determined of his detractors. It would, however, make reasonable people think better of him. “But I remain concerned about your grandmother and your son being in this situation with me. The aiji-dowager has been helpful, even instrumental in starting this negotiation, but if you could persuade her—”

“An earthquake could not budge my grandmother,” Tabini said with a wave of his hand. “I shall at least talk to her. Where is she?”

“One believes, in her rooms, aiji-ma.” A bow, a gesture toward the door. One did not dismiss the aiji of the aishidi’tat to a household servant’s guidance. A lord escorted him where he wished to go, and relied on the bodyguards—his, and Tabini’s, to quietly exchange information in the background. If the dowager were notin her rooms, his staff would quietly redirect themc but crowded as the house had become, it was certainly a small range of possibilities, and they were already inthe office.

It was a short walk, out into the wood-paneled hall, with the stained-glass window at the end, darkened now by storm-shielding, down that direction to a paneled door. Banichi’s single rap drew immediate attention from within. The door opened, Cenedi himself doing that office from inside. The aiji strode ahead into the dowager’s personal sitting room with a loud, “Grandmother?”

Ilisidi was sitting in a comfortable wing chair by the fireplace, a notebook in her lap, the picture of anyone’s kindly grandmother. Her hair was liberally salted with white, her dark face was a map of years, and she was diminutive for her kind, only human-sized. But the golden eyes had lost none of their spark and snap, and she was dressed in a brocade day-coat the collar of which sparkled with diamondsc the hell she hadn’t gotten wind of this visit.

And considering the force of the two personalities about to engage, the paidhi-aiji decided it was time for a tactical retreat. Bren began to back toward the door.

“Stay, paidhi!” the dowager snapped. “You may be useful.”

He stopped. “Aiji-ma,” he murmured and, beside Banichi, Jago, the aiji’s guard, and Cenedi, the chief of Ilisidi’s guard, he took a place along the wall, beside a tall porcelain figurine of the recent century.

Tabini-aiji; meanwhile, settled for a casual stance by the fireplace, in which only a trace of fire burned above the embers. “Well,” he said, elbow on the mantel, “honored grandmother. A new province? Or is it two? War with the Marid? When shall we declare it? Do tell me.”

“We have no need to declare it,” Ilisidi snapped. “ Theydid. Sit down, grandson! We have a stiff neck this morning.”

“We shall be reasonably brief,” Tabini said, not sitting down, “since we are assured rumors of your ill health are exaggeratedc”

“Entirely.”

“So—having set in motion this interesting chain of events on the coast, will you now fly off and resume your affairs in the East? Or have you quite done with matters in this province?”

“Oh, we are not yet satisfied, grandson. Wedo not leavea situation to ferment for five decades!”

“You tried to push this establishment of the Edi lordship on my grandfather! Andmy father!”

“Their half-measures produced this situation!” Ilisidi snapped. “If they had listened to us in the first place, we would not havethe difficulties that now present themselves!”

“Ah, so you havetaken account of the difficultiesc which are, of course, the same local difficulties that presented themselves in my grandfather’s lifetime: a little smuggling, occasional piracy, and a thorough desire to see the aishidi’tat broken apart! The Edi program is not that different from the aims of the Marid!”

“Your grandfather was wrong then, he is stillwrong, and I am right about the Edi, grandson! And if you will use good sense we shall come out of this with the arrangement we should have had fifty-three years ago.”

“Ha!” Tabini gave a shove at the mantel. “This is no venue in which to debate the matter, honored grandmother. Say that ourregime owes responsibility to alldistricts of the aishidi’tat. Say that we are determined to maintain the balance of powers within the aishidi’tat, and as usual, youhave set a finger on the scales. You came here to see to my son, who has been reckless. But do you restrain his career? No! First you send him and the paidhi off to a meeting with Southern agents and a fool! Did you intend that? I think not! So do not pretend you are infallible!”

Ilisidi’s jaw set. “ Whoseadvisors made excuses for Baiji the fool when he failed to come to court this last session? Whoseadvisors, when we contacted your office regarding him beforewe thus dispatched the paidhi-aiji and my great-grandson, assured us there was nosecurity problem in Kajiminda?”

It was the first Bren had known that Ilisidi had phoned the capital before sending her great-grandson on that ill-starred visit. It made him feel not quite so bad about walking into the trap himselfc since the dowager’s accesses were highest level, and outside the capital, and his were not.

Tabini retorted: “Things on this coast were under surveillance!”

“Ha!”

“And quiet, until you came here! We cannot solve every problem in the aishidi’tat in one legislative session. We have important measures coming before the hasdrawad and the tashrid!”

“While the Farai camp in a sensitive area of the Bujavid and attempt to take the whole west coast! How would the paidhi’s assassinationaffect your session? One would consider that a certain embarrassment!”

“So now,” Tabini retorted, “after meeting with a hostile clan on your own, you present me a new province and an unsettled condition, not just in two estates, but on the entire coast! Gods less fortunate, woman! We do not want a war with the Marid at this juncture!”

“When better? What will provoke you, if not this situation? When are your enemies to judge the aiji willact?”

“When he pleases. Wheneverhe pleases, woman, and do not push me.” A small silence descended. One could not be sure of Ilisidi’s expression, but it was probably smug. Tabini’s was a scowl.

“So you singlehandedly removed Baiji’s titles,” Tabini said quietly.

“Do you wish to restore them?” Ilisidi asked sweetly. “You can, of course. He would not be the only fool in the legislature. He might even show up for court this year. In gratitude to you, of course.”

Tabini scowled back. “The fool’s distinguished uncle is on his way back from the space station.” A glance toward Bren. “Lord Geigi will land in Shejidan on the fourteenth and fly directly here.”

That was tomorrow. Bren had not heard. And where in hell were they going to put Geigi, with Geigi’s estate swarming with Tabini’s agents?

“Well,” Ilisidi said. “ Thatwill be a pleasant visit. Another reason for us to remain. We long to see Geigi.”

“Have you other adventures in mind for my son?” Tabini asked, sharp turn of subject; and not. “Or shall I take him back to his mother? His great-uncle has arrived, and is highly agitated. He is threatening to come here.”

God, Bren thought. Tatiseigi. The old man, central clan lord of the prickliest sort and by no means an asset in negotiating with the west coast Edi, had arrived in the capital. Lord Tatiseigi, who would have been beyond upset to discover his great-nephew was not in the capital to meet him, now had to be told his great-nephew had nearly been killed while in the paidhi’s care.

Upset? Oh, yes, Tatiseigi would be somewhat upset.

“You will simply have to keep Tatiseigi in the capital with you,” Ilisidi said to Tabini with a casually dismissive wave. “As for the boy, we have need of him.”

“Need of him!”

“It is useful,” Ilisidi said, “for him to attend these events.”

“It is usefulfor him to stay alive!” Tabini retorted.

“You have sent your two guards to watch over him,” Ilisidi retorted. “These two children!”

Everybody under thirty was a child in Ilisidi’s reckoning. The two children in question were twentyish and reputed, Bren’s own bodyguard informed him, to be quite good in the Guild, if notoriously arrogant.

“They may at least keep up with him.” Tabini struck his fist against the stonework. “If you take responsibility for my son, honored grandmother, you know what you are taking on.”

“None better,” Ilisidi said, and added: “At least weknow where he is.”

The aiji’s own guard had lost the boy. Repeatedly. It was a remark calculated to draw fire.

It drew, at least, a furious scowl from Tabini. And Tabini’s guard had to be wincing inside.

“Do not be overconfident, woman,” Tabini muttered ominously. “Nobody has been faultless in overseeing this inventive child.”

“The boy is remarkably prudent,” Ilisidi said, “where the danger is clear to him.”

“He is a year short of felicitous nine, and mostly at home in the corridors of a spaceship! A number of dangers in the world do not seem clear to him!”

“He has comprehended the ones in this locality,” Ilisidi said smoothly, “even the ones emanating from the Marid, and he will now employ his cleverness in good directions. It is usefulfor the heir to form associations in this uneasy district.”

“And to observe his great-grandmother meddling in affairs that do not remotely concern the East?”

“Affairs that doconcern the East,” Ilisidi shot back, “since we have in mind an excellent solution for Baiji the fool: a marriage, heirs for the Maschi that Baiji will nothave a hand in rearing!”

“Oh, do you?”

“We do, and we shelter a hope that the intelligence and industry of his uncle’s line reside somewhere in his heredity, though neither has manifested in Baiji himself. We are busy mopping up the untidiness in this province for you, grandson of mine, we are dealing with matters we shall neverremind you are precisely those matters we argued should have been settled in your grandfather’s time! And we have found excellent prospects for a settled peace in this district whilediscomfiting the highly inconvenient Marid! So we shall oh, so gladly hear your expressions of filial gratitudefor our good offices!”

“ Gods less fortunate! Your interference goes too far, and you have recklessly involved my son in all of it!”

“Interference, dare you say? Involved your son? Wholost track of my great-grandson in the halls of the Bujavid?”

“While youdistracted the staff!”

“Oh, a far reach, that! Who allowed my great-grandson and the paidhi-aijito enter a district rife with Marid plots, without advising them or apprehending the danger?”

“Yours was not doing so well in that, woman!”

“Your staff,” Ilisidi said, “has been remiss!”

“So why did younot dissuade the paidhi-aiji from his venture to this coast, your own intelligence of course being faultless?”

“No one informed meof the paidhi’s intentions to visit this peninsula in the first place!”

“Then where, honored grandmother, wasthe attention of your staff, since you knew full well Tatiseigi would request the paidhi-aiji to vacate hispremises on his return to the capital? Where elsewould the paidhi go but his residence on the coast? And if you were in receipt of such remarkable intelligence regarding instability on this coast, why did you not inform mystaff, who might have informed the paidhi’s bodyguard in some timely fashion so he would not be here? Why did you not say to him, ‘Nand’ paidhi, do not call on the young fool next door. He is overrun with Marid agents.’ No, you did not know. You had no idea, no more than we did!”

Thatbrought a small instant of quiet.

A standstill. Bren drew very small breaths, wanting not to become involved, far less to become the centerpiece of that debate.

In point of fact, one had in the past been able to rely on the aiji’s being well-informed on every district, and one would have expected his proposal to go to the coast to have met an immediate advisory of local problems. But information since Tabini’s return to power was notwholly reliable, and there were small pockets of resentment in the aishidi’tat, where the brief accession of a Padi Valley Kadigidi to the aijinate had unsettled certain issues long dormant.

In point of fact, second, it was incumbent on anybodyapt to be a target of assassination not to make assumptions and not to rely blindly on old associations. He had certainly assumed he was safe, when he had divided his bodyguard—Algini had been nursing a sprained left hand that day; but now Jago had stitches and Banichi had scrapes and bruises to match, thanks to his judgment. His domestic staff had hinted of difficulty, but not been forward enough and had not managed to mention that the neighboring staff had left the premises months ago. That had been the epitaph of more than one lord of the aishidi’tat: domestic staff refusing to meddle in what they considered the Guild would know; and worse, with the Edi disinclination to discuss Edi matters with outsiders.

But the ones who would take this fingerpointing most to heart were precisely their respective bodyguards, his and Tabini’s, and the dowager’s, who no longer had ready recourse to what had been an excellent and constant fact-gathering organization, before the coup had totally fractured the network, and that lay at the heart of the problem. They were reconstituting it as fast as they could, but speed was no asset in establishing trusted sources.

So in twodestructions of records, one when Tabini’s staff had fled the Bujavid in the face of the coup, and one when the usurper Murini’s allies had attempted to cover their tracks when Tabini retook the capital, there were now distressing gaps of knowledge in some hitherto reliable places: Baiji’s flirtation with the Marid was a case in point. No one would ever have expected treason in staunch Geigi’s house—he certainly hadn’t—but there it was. The aiji’s forces had now taken possession of that estate and turned up new problems clear down in Separti Township.

The aiji-dowager, meanwhile, had not accepted the assignment of blame for bad intelligence. The cane thumped against the unoffending carpet and she levered herself to her feet, standing chest-high to her formidable grandson and scowling.

“We are perfectly settled here,” Ilisidi said, “in possession now of the intelligence we need. So you may go your way and let us manage matters.”

“Impossible woman!” Tabini flung up his hands and turned to leave. “I shall go reason with my son.”

“You will not take him! His presence here is to his benefit— and yours!”

Tabini turned about. “I shall reason with him, I say, since reason is oneart he is not learning from his great-grandmother!”

“Ha!” Ilisidi cried, and a wise human just stood very still, while Tabini peeled his bodyguard out of the row by the wall and headed out the door.

“ Where is my son?” resounded in the hall. The staff doubtless provided Tabini a fast answer. Bren hoped so, for the honor of his house.

As it was, he had inadvertently made himself and his guard part of the scene. Getting out of the dowager’s immediate area might be a good idea at the moment, but it was not that easy to accomplish.

“Are we unreasonable?” the dowager asked him, not rhetorically, turning a burning gaze on him, and either answer was treasonable.

2

« ^ »

“Your father is here,” Jegari had reported some time past, warning enough, and a wise son who did not wish to be flown back to the capital and confined to his father’s apartment with his tutor for the rest of his life had immediately taken the warning and improved his appearance.

Cajeiri had on his best brown brocade coat, and his shirt lace was crisp and immaculate. His queue was tied with the red and black Ragi colors—his father’s colors, politic choice of the four, even five heraldries he could legitimately claim. His boots were polished, his fingernails were clean, and he had, after the rush of preparation, quietened his breathless hurry and achieved a serene calm even his great-grandmother would approve of.

He had, besides, accepted his father’s choice of bodyguards: he had already had Jegari and Antaro, a brother and sister out of Taiben province in the Padi Valley—those two were not properly Assassins’ Guild yet, and could not wear the uniform, so they looked like domestic staff, but they were his senior bodyguard. He insisted so. And his junior staff, the ones his father had just sent—Lucasi and Veijico, another brother and sister, really wereGuild, and actually five years older. They were in their formal uniforms, black leather and silver, and looked really proper.

So he could muster a real household, and there was no laundry tossed over chair backs and no stray teacup awaiting house staff to pick it up (nand’ Bren’s staff never let things sit around) so the premises was immaculate, too. He was well ahead of his father’s arrival when he heard the commotion of an approach outside.

His father’s guard knocked once—ordinary procedure—and did not have to fling the door open themselves, since Jegari did a majordomo’s job and beat the man to it. The door whisked open, Jegari bowing, and there was the bodyguard, and his father.

The guard walked in and disposed themselves on either side of the door. His own bodyguard, official and not, came to formal attention. His father walked in and stopped, looking critically about the room—which actually looked like a real household, Cajeiri thought, bowing with particular satisfaction, even a little self-assurance at his own arrangements. Father had notcaught him at disadvantage. For infelicitous eight going on fortunate nine, he had not disgraced himself, or Great-grandmother, or nand’ Bren.

“Honored Father,” he said respectfully, completely collected.

“My elusive son,” his father said.

Bait. Cajeiri declined it, simply bowing a second time. Arguing with his father from the outset would notget what he wanted, which was to stay exactly where he was, in nand’ Bren’s house. He did notto be dragged back to the capital and locked away in his rooms with his tutor. He had made mistakes, but he had remedied them. He was in good order. Surelyhis father was not going to haul him off in embarrassment.

“Your great-grandmother thinks you should stay here,” his father said. “You have worried your mother, who is not pleased, not to mention you have set off your great-uncle, who has had to be restrained from coming out to the coastc need I say with whatdetriment to the delicate peace in this whole district?”

That wasa threat. Uncle Tatiseigi was not inclined to be polite to anybody who was not of very high rank, andattached to the clans and causes he personally approved. There was a long, long list of people Uncle Tatiseigi did not approve of.

“That would not help nand’ Bren or Great-grandmother, honored Father.” A third, smaller bow. “We understand. We are attempting to be quiet and useful.”

“By stealing a freight train and a sailboat?”

A fourth bow. “My honored father exaggerates the freight train. But we admit the sailboat. We deeply apologize for the sailboat.”

His father let go an exasperated sigh and walked over to the desk and the darkened window, which was storm-shuttered because of snipers, which were still a constant possibility. Out in the hall, and faintly even in here, one could still smell new lacquer, where they had fixed bullet holes.

So it was not quite safe. His father surveyed the room—then, embarrassingly, as if he were a child, flung open the inner door and had a look in the bedroom. The bed in there was made and there was nothing out of place. He was very glad they had not just tossed stray items in there.

His father walked back again, set fists on hips and looked down at him. “The staff is keeping you in good state.”

“Nand’ Bren has a very good staff,” he said. “And we try to be no trouble to them at all.”

“Ha.” His father had been arguing with Great-grandmother. He was still mad. That was clear. But he was not being unreasonable.

Then his father asked: “Do you have the leastnotion what is at stake on this coast?”

He didknow that answer. He had listened when his elders talked, because it wasimportant. “The Edi people are connected to the Gan, up the coast in the Islands and the north coast. The Edi and the Gan both used to live on the island of Mospheira, before the humans landed, and now because we Ragi gave the island to humans, they live on our coast, which the Marid used to think they owned.”

“ Didthey own it?”

He knew that answer, too. “No, honored Father. The Marid claimed the whole southern half of the west coast, but an association of local clans owned it. The Marid had tried to bully all the clans that were here. Then the Edi came in, and the Edi got along with the local clans well enough, especially since the Edi helped throw the Marid out and back into their own territory. Then the Edi fought among themselves, mostly, until Great-grandfather put a Maschi clan lord in charge of the coast and created Sarini Province. And now that Lord Geigi of the Maschi has been in space all these years and his nephew has turned out to be a total fool, the Marid thinks they can get back onto the west coast, which is what nand’ Bren and Great-grandmother just stopped. And the Edi are all upset with the Marid, but they are grateful, too, to nand’ Bren and Great-grandmother, which is why they wanted to talk—nand’ Bren is their neighbor, and they feel an association there, and they really respect elder people, especially elder ladies, and, besides—” He was getting too many “ands,” which Great-grandmother said was undignified, so he tried to amend it. “Besides, Great-grandmother has influence with you, she is an associate of Lord Geigi, too, and her own province is on the other side of the world, so she would be a very smart alliance for them. They know shewould not want their land. And she is associated with nand’ Bren, so there is a local connection.”

His father bent an absolutely dispassionate face toward him, which, since he doubted his father had reason to lose his temper further than he had already lost it, probably meant that his father was actually amused at his account. One might take offense at that, because he had tried hard to understand what was going on—except it was certainly better than his father losing his temper.

“Tolerably well-reckoned,” his father said. “But there is risk in staying here, boy, which agitates your great-uncle considerably. Not to mention your mother.”

“If the Edi fall out of the aishidi’tat and the Marid starts fighting them, there will be a lot of assassinations, and youcould be in danger, honored Father, even in the capital, not to mention other people who will get hurt all over the place. If the Edi clan protects this coast and it allies to the Gan and to Great-grandmother in the East, that will annoy some people, but it will make this coast stronger, so the Marid can never come in here again. And if nand’ Bren had notfound out the Marid were plotting to take Kajiminda, then the Taisigi of the Marid would have gotten a claim to it. And they would have killed off the Maschi one at a time until they got somebody else stupid like Baiji to make a treaty with them. And then you would have to come in and fight them and it would have been a muchbigger mess than having the Edi as allies and letting them have a house of their own.”

“Clever, clever boy. All your great-grandmother’s arguments in a pleasant package.”

It was not time to be pert with his father. Not at all. Cajeiri made a judicious bow.

“Do you already know you are about to become the elder of my offspring?” his father asked him then, which took a second thought, and rapidly three and four. “Is that what has prompted this current adventurism?”

Elder? As in—two? And with the same mother? Surely with his mother! He would be very upset if his father ended the contract with his mother and she went away. And Uncle Tatiseigi would be furious.

“No, honored Father. Is the mother mymother?”

“The same,” his father said, immediately relieving him of one huge concern.

“Am I to have a brother?” That could be good or bad. He had no idea. It could be fun.

“Or a sister,” his father said.

Among humans, one apparently had a way of telling. But either was important news. It affected his place in the world, but not too much, since the parentage was all the same two clans, Ragi and his mother’s Ajuri clan.

And having a baby of the same heritage might divert his mother andhis great-uncle from excessive worry about him, which could be good.

But—

—which would not be good—

Great-grandmother would have another great-grandchild to fuss over, who would get all the favors.

Thatwas not to be tolerated. That thought got his blood to racing.

He really, reallydid not want to share Great-grandmother’s attention. Or nand’ Bren’s. He was not going to share. No.

“We would rather have told you under calmer circumstances,” his father said, “and we would have done so in very short order, in fact, so you would not hear it first from other sources. But you left the capital.”

“Does Great-grandmother know it?”

A snort. “There is nothing your great-grandmother fails to know. Study that woman’s information-gathering. It is highly efficient.”

“She did not know we were going into a trap at Kajiminda.”

His father flung up a hand. “Say no more on that score! One has heard quite enough of that argument!”

He bowed, not knowing what had annoyed his father, but he was sure that something had, something to do with that incident.

And whatever it was, it had nothing to do with the truly important fact—namely that his parents were having another baby.

That possibly made him a little less valuable to some people. It meant if someone did away with him, his father would still have an heir. He supposed that was a good thing.

It meant somebody else would be available for people to watch and fuss over, which was definitely good. His father only had so many security resources. And that meant more freedom for him.

But it also meant he had to be better, in everything, or people would say his sib was better, which was already unfair.

It meant he was going to have to workand stay ahead forever. Or else. Thatwas a threatc a threat a lot more personal than the Marid posed by shooting at him. He never, ever wanted anybody to say his younger sib was better than him at anything.

Great-grandmother said if he was able to deal with the Edi because of meeting them and talking to them, that would be an asset for the future. And he was very sure that if they could settle the Marid’s ambitions that would be an asset for everybody’s future.

And he was not going to give up any assets he had. Not now. Not with competition on the way.

“Your great-grandmother says you can use common sense when you understand a danger is real,” his father said in that no-nonsense voice he had. “One suggests you consider that the danger in this entire district is quite real.”

“One has very well comprehended that, honored Father.”

“Continue to comprehend it,” his father said. “And obey knowledgeable elders!”

He was going to get to stay! “Yes,” he said triumphantly— but not too triumphantly. Nothing was safe until his father actually left him here in his great-grandmother’s keeping. And then he could dothings to secure his future and the aishidi’tat’s. He would be important. He would make himself important— given a head start.

“Behave!” his father said, and he bowed and his father nodded an end to the matter and that was that. His father left, taking his bodyguard with him, and he—

He looked at his intimates, his aishid, his bodyguard, who had necessarily heard all that exchange. He was gratified to see they all looked very respectful, even impressedc even Lucasi and Veijico, who were complete snobs about everything. He had come off rather well in that exchange, he thought, except being surprised by the information that he had a sib coming.

Still, one’s aishid had to be privy to moments like that. And they had to keep quiet about what they knew. It was part of what they were.

“We need information, nadiin-ji,” he said. “We need to know what my father said to my great-grandmother, for one, and to nand’ Bren. Find out.”

Jegari and Antaro were equal with Veijico and Lucasi in that mission: the two young Taibeni, who had reasonable access and credit with house staff, were able to get things from the servants, who heard almost everything. And the two newcomers, being real Guild, could gather information among senior Guild in the house. Both sets looked at him very soberly.

And then they dispersed, Antaro leaving Jegari on duty with him, and Veijico leaving Lucasi with him. Two sources, two kinds of inquiries—neither leaving him alone with the other for a moment—because the two halves of his aishid were notin good agreement.

That was the problem his father had given him alongwith his two real Guild members.

Well, that was all right. At least all his bodyguards were primarily his, not spies for Great-uncle, for his father, or even for Great-grandmother, and he would work it out. Veijico and Lucasi would take orders: they had said so, and they had better mean it.

He had been doing some talking with the two new members of his aishid over the last couple of days, and he had arrived at a fair understanding of their position. They weregood, they didunderstand Guild operations, and they would take the lead in defense. They had been very frustrated at having to live in the Guild house where nothing everhappened that the seniors did not take care of, and they realized that being attached to him was a great thing, and they looked forward to being in actionc

But they also understood that they had to take general orders from Antaro and Jegari as the two who best knew his mind on what Great-grandmother would call “staff policy.”

They had readily agreed they would not tell tales unless they feared he was making a serious, serious mistake—and he was determined not to do that, given their experienced advice. Which he promised to hear, at least, on any important question. He assured them of that, and they seemed happy.

So he had his household in fairly good order. Jegari and Antaro ran staff things and most of the defense planning for the room and all was done by Veijico and Lucasi, who could also get some information out of nand’ Bren’s bodyguard and some even from Great-grandmother’s.

And even his father had had to admit his presence here was an asset to the aishidi’tat, if he was learning things and making a good impression on people. He was proud of that.

So everybody agreed he would stay in nand’ Bren’s house, and he was so happy he could run through the halls shouting. But he did no such thing, because he was being proper.

He would be helpful. He would getthe man’chi of the Edi andthe Gan, the way Great-grandmother planned, so that someday when he was aiji, he would have the whole coast secure.

The Ragi? They ran the whole aishidi’tat, all the Western Association, and they might be upset with him dealing with the Edi, but they were always arguing about something. One thing he knew for certain: he had Uncle Tatiseigi backing him, which was the Central Clans; and he had Great-grandmother, who was the East; and he was fairly sure of the Isles and the North; and certainly of the Taibeni, who were Jegari and Antaro’s clan; and if he got the Edi, too, then they could flatten the Marid, and nobody was going to overthrow his father’s heir.

No little brother was going to get ahead of him, ever.

3

« ^ »

Tabini-aiji did notpay a visit to Lord Geigi’s nephew Baiji, in the basement. Nor did he linger for tea, let alone lunch.

In the main, Bren could surmise, this had nothing to do with Tabini’s irritation at the local situation, and was entirely due to security concerns and the insistence of his bodyguard. The less time the aiji spent in this chancey region, the better his bodyguard would like it—and, unhappy truth, the better the Edi residents of the area would like it, too. Ragi clan atevi, which the aiji was, moving in with orders and decrees and consequent upheavals and relocations, was the unhappy history of the Ragi clan with the Edi people and their northern cousins the Gan. The Edi district remained as skittish about the aiji’s actions as they were about Marid plots. Tabini, being no fool in such matters, and his guard likewise, they had kept his presence quick and relatively quiet.

What would be noted among the Edi and other observers was that Tabini’s son had stayed, evidently with the blessing of his father, and his grandmother Ilisidi stayed, and the paidhi-aiji stayed, all with their Guild bodyguards, all of them having already established a dialogue with the Edi at some little cost of life and current risk to themselves.

That, Bren hoped, would resonate clear up the coast to the Gan, who were very likely following the proceedings here with some interest.

It would resonate southward, too, around the curve of the coast to the bottom of the continent, where the Marid, that little aggregate of five clans around a deep bay—a little private sea—had strung out a long history of conspiracy, internecine warfare, and general ferment. Members of the aishidi’tat? They were. But enemies of the aishidi’tat? They always had been.

So he could look for his Bujavid apartment back. Soon. The Farai could start packing and take themselves back to the Marid, ending any pretense of negotiations and new agreements for that region. That was one good thing to come out of Tabini’s visit. Given current circumstances, the Farai might get nervous enough to quit the premises without the aiji ever saying a thing. Thatwould be nice.

And under other circumstances, he would intend to be back in the Bujavid in short order—except for the matters he had inadvertently stirred up on the coast, namely the restof the business that the Farai and their fellow Marid were involved inc

Namely the plot to marry into Lord Geigi’s clan and inherit Lord Geigi’s estate— withits property rights and treaty privileges on the west coast.

The defunct Maladesi clan, through which the Farai claimed that prime Bujavid apartment, had also been the previous owners of Najida. One wondered, one truly, truly wondered whatever had made the Farai hesitate to claim the estate as well during Murini’s days in power.

Possibly a little reluctance on the part of Murini, himself from the central clans, to have the Farai, and thus the Marid, get too powerful too fast? The Farai had already claimed the Bujavid apartment. Maybe Murini had rebuffed their more important claim to the old Maladesi west coast estate—or told them to wait for that.

Maybe Murini had had enough common sense not to want to stir up the Edi in his first year in power. If the Edi-Murid feud had gone nova, Murini would have had his most important ally, the Marid, distracted with that old quarrel—and having the Marid’s main force pinned down in a guerilla war would have weakened Murini’s hold on the capital, and thus on the aijinate. It had been rumored, at the time, that Tabini was dead. It had been rumored, at the time, that Tabini’s heir was lost somewhere in the heavens along with the aiji-dowager and the paidhi-aiji and never would come back—but there would have been claimants soon enough, if Murini had at any point looked distracted.

Timing, timing, timing. Contrary to Murini’s expectations, the dowager had returned from space, Tabini had launched his counterattack on Murini, and Murini had gone down to defeatc beforethe Marid had wormed their way into their hearts’ desirec namely the west coast.

So—with Murini gone—the Marid had just kept working toward their goal while trying to stall Tabini with promised new agreements. The marriage offer to Baiji predated Tabini’s return to power: so the Marid had been quietly pursuing their objective regardless of who sat in power in Shejidan. Murini might not have known what they were up to, offering Geigi’s foolish nephew a Marid wife, or had turned a blind eye to it because he did not want a public break with his allies.

But certainly the Edi had understood what was going on. The Edi servants in Baiji’s house had found a stream of Marid agents visiting the estate—agents who had set up shop in the township that neighbored the estate. Agents who had evaporated following the failed attempt on the paidhi-aiji’s life—and now were rumored to have set up again.

Tabini’s men were, one hoped, discreetly ferreting out that little nest, which had fled from Kajiminda estate down to Separti Township.

Possibly the Edi people were helping the aiji’s men find those cells—though one doubted it: the Edi historically had blamed the Ragi for the treaty that had lost them their homeland, over on Mospheira, and they had only marginally attached to the aishidi’tat. The old, old resentment had never died, and they particularly did not cooperate with the Assassins’ Guild.

Which made it all the more remarkable that the Edi people had approached both the paidhi and Tabini’s grandmother— herself an Easterner, from another region dragged somewhat unwillingly into the continent-spanning modern state.

So Tabini had just paid a personal visit? The Edi would have known it even while it was in progress. The paidhi had absolutely no doubt of that—since there were Edi servants under this roof. They would know, they would be concerned, and they would certainly have an opinion, based on whatever those servants reported, which might well be the whole content of the conversation with Ilisidi—the conversation had hardly been quiet.

Considering the fragility of lines of communication just ever so tentatively reopened, it did seem a good idea to be sure the Edi did not feel the paidhi had been communicating their closer-held secrets to the aijic in a conversation which had been much lower key.

So the paidhi went out into the hall and located, with no trouble at all, his majordomo, Ramaso, who was his most reliable link to the Edi. Ramaso was standing between the servants’ wing and the dining hall, a high traffic area in the house, and a very convenient place to watch who came and went in the main hall: its view included the master suite, the library, the office, the dining hall, and the doors to all the guest suites and formal bath.

Not an accident, that position: Ramaso kept himself informed on all sorts of matters: it was his job to do that. And Ramaso very politely bowed when accosted. His dark face was absolutely innocent of motive, which was to say, expressionless, in the best formal fashion.

“Rama-ji,” Bren said. “This has been an interesting morning.”

“Indeed, nandi.”

“The aiji asked no questions into Edi business. His visit seems a signal, and the aiji’s specific decision not to pull his heir back to Shejidan seems so, too. He knows the contact with the Edi people took place and knows what was said. Tell the Grandmother that. If the Edi wish to meet formally again, their neighbor the paidhi would be willing to come to the village— or we would welcome the Grandmother or her representative here, should she wish.”

Ramaso read him quite well, Bren thought, and signals were not lost on him. A hint of expression touched the mouth and sparkled favorably in age-lined amber eyes. “Very good, nandi.”

Signals. One of the things at issue in the district was the dowager’s suggestion that the Edi should seek a lordship of their own, and establish themselves, after two hundred years of limbo, as a recognized presence in the Ragi-dominated legislature. There would certainly be a bit of a fuss about it, when the aishidi’tat had to accommodate a new presence and new interests—but there it was. That was the situation which Tabini had walked in on, and only mildly mentioned, in his dealings with his grandmother. It was the aiji’s lack of comment, ergo tacit acceptance, that needed to be communicated to the Edi.

Others of the staff, too, had witnessed the meeting and knew exactly what they had seen and heard. Ramaso had had his clarification on that. But it was not the only issue the aiji had brought into the household.

So Bren walked on back to the furthest suite, where the hall bent gardenward, next to that fine stained-glass window— darkened, only its hammered surface sparkling inkily in the hall light, since they had put the storm shutters up. The whole estate still had the feeling of a fortress under seige, and right next to that huge window was the nerve center of house operations in their state of siege—the suite where Banichi and Jago, Tano and Algini, and occasionally Cenedi, the dowager’s chief of security, met and observed, via their small roomful of sophisticated monitors, everyone who came and went in the house, on the grounds, and out on the road.

His personal bodyguard—his four constant attendants, his aishid—kept the suite door open, as usual, and the monitor room door itself stood open. He walked in, not unnoticed in his approach, he was quite sure—as he was sure the whole progress and tenor of the aiji’s visit had been a matter of intense discussion in this little room, especially once Banichi and Jago had arrived to debrief to their teammates. Banichi and Jago occupied the left half of the little station, Tano and Algini had the right, and they accepted his presence with a little nod toward courtesy—he disliked formalities in his bodyguard—as he perched on a fifth, vacant chair in their midst.

“Bren-ji,” Tano said. That was a question.

“One has invited the village Grandmother to discuss the visit,” he said, and heads nodded solemnly—his aishid entirely understood that matter. “One conveyed this suggestion through Ramaso.”

“Wise,” Banichi said. That was all.

That Lord Geigi was arriving tomorrow, and that they had that very astute help coming—and the pressing problem of where to put him—Banichi and Jago would have covered that matter with Tano and Algini.

“One still has no idea how we shall settle Lord Geigi’s staff—or how many people may come with him. But we have to do something by tomorrow. The Edi may well wish to move back into Kajiminda. They will have no wish to see their lord guarded solely by Guild.”

“The premises of Kajiminda will be compromised if they refuse all communication with us,” Algini said, momentarily diverting himself from his monitors—and, like a piston-stroke, Tano’s attention went onto those screens. “The Edi might expect to undertake his security arrangements, yes, nandi, but they are inexpert in modern systems and they would be going into a seriously compromised environment with questionable equipment. One doubts, too, that the aiji’s guard will willingly vacate the grounds until they have secured the estate, and that operation is not yet complete. A further difficulty: Lord Geigi’s Guild bodyguard has no current knowledge of systems here on the ground, and theywill need to be brought up to date on what capabilities we do and do not have.”

“Best keep them here at Najida as long as possible, Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “and let the aiji’s guard have as long a time as possible to go over the premises there.”

“Regrettably,” Bren said, “nadiin-ji, you know this is the only suite of rooms left. And while it is not my desire to see my bodyguard housed in the basementc”

“Better to move our operations to the library,” Jago said.

That was a thought: it would be closer to the front door— though one of the dowager’s favorite sitting spots, it was a thoroughly sensible suggestion, there being only this remaining suite remotely accceptable for a lord of Geigi’s rank.

One last suite to be had—this one, small as it was, with only three rooms; and if Geigi brought more than four Guild with him, it was going to be a squeeze. But Geigi could handle that. He was adaptable—hence his success governing the atevi side of the space station.

“We must move this afternoon, then,” Tano said.

“We do not, Bren-ji,” Algini said quietly, “propose to give Lord Geigi’s aishid, Guild though they be, close access to our own operations. We hope for your firm support in that position.”

“Without question, nadiin-ji,” Bren said. That posed another sticky little question. Lord Geigi was—one never said friendamong atevi, who had neither the concept nor the emotional hard-wiring to feel that sentiment. But certainly he was a personal ally, a very closely bound ally of many years, through many very difficult circumstances. There was nobodymore reliable than Lord Geigi, and they owed him profound gratitude and a feeling of absolute acceptance and trust.

But one could not rely on staff, Guild or otherwise, who might have suffered a confusion of man’chi—that warm emotion in atevi which attached individuals to other individuals of greater power. Man’chi, the glue that held atevi society together and made households function, had a certain tendency to weaken—given long absence or political upheaval.

And Lord Geigi, while only a phone call away from the planet, had spent the last decade up on the space station. The Guildsmen with him had been long out of touch with whatever ties they had had here in Sarini Province, or elsewhere.

Given those circumstances, staff’s sense of precaution was entirely reasonable, by atevi lights.

More, that absence had left Geigi’s estate—and his once-close relationship with the Edi people—to suffer the effects of two caretaker lords: first his sister, and then his nephew Baiji— whose flaws of character had been extreme, and whose staff had ranged from questionable to Marid-based.

No knowing, in effect, what Lord Geigi would be walking into over at Kajiminda if he imprudently tried to go there straight away; and no knowing—a worse thought, which popped into Bren’s head quite unwelcomely—no knowing what odd influences might have gotten onto Geigi’s staff even while he was on the station, slowly and over the years. Tabini had been very careful who got into orbit—and with the shuttles grounded all during Murini’s administration, nobodyin Murini’s man’chi had gotten into orbit—but man’chi was always subject to revision, given changed circumstances. Houses onworld had risen and fallen: allegiances had rearranged themselves clear across the continent. Certain clans had fallen. The Guild itself had suffered upheaval, including the overthrow of one Guildmaster and the assassination of another. Relationships on the planet had undergone profound change—and that might affect a whole range of things that could make a once-reliable relationship unstable.

No, he decidedly did not want Geigi’s current staff having free rein in his security operations. Algini was very, very right about that notion. They would have to research Geigi’s bodyguard, learn who their relatives were, how placed, how connected, during the usurper’s regime. Matters which could hang fire forever so long as these men served in orbit could reach out to change loyalties, once they were on the planet. Geigi himself would know that, and likely had been very careful which of his staff he picked to go with him—but would he have done it with perfect information?

God, what a mess!

“Are we, however, yet admitting the heir’s two new guards to trusted levels?” he asked, a point of not-idle curiosity.

“Not in any particular way,” Tano said, and Bren nodded slowly. Lucasi and Veijico, whom Tabini had installed in addition to Antaro and Jegari, came to the household with high-level credentials, too. But by that statement, his aishid was not turning over the house codes to them, not yet admitting them to decision-making, apparently not even letting them give orders to the servants. The dowager’s staff, yes, could do all those things. Cenedi, absolutely; but Cenedi was a long-standing exception. His staff was clearly running a very tight ship.

So Geigi’s staff was destined to be under-informed until the investigation ran its course.

“I concur,” he said. It was not a lord’s business to critique security decisions unless he found serious fault—and with his aishid, he didn’t. Ever. He was damned lucky, he thought. Very damned lucky to have this bodyguard. He would not be alive, if they had been in the least lax, but they had not, not even when they had arrived on what they had expected to be a working vacation. They still smarted over the ambush at Kajimindac when their domestic sources had given them bad information, and when their lord had not picked up on the clues that should have warned him.

“Do what you need to do,” he said. “Staff will move anything in the library that you want moved out.” Staff would not be allowed to touch Guild equipment. But historic porcelains and small tables and sitting chairs were definitely something staff could handle, and should, with their own sort of care.

So he went out and gave the orders to the servant staff. The household security station, in the advent of another guest, was about to be remade as a visiting lord’s residence.

All of which meant the paidhi’s office now became his last refuge, the last secure, quiet place where he could work and answer correspondence and prepare arguments for the coming legislative sessionc which was what he had been doing when all hell had broken loose in the district.

But the legislative documents, regarding a proposed cell phone installation, lay underneath a stack of research and maps of the west coast, which was pretty well the situation in reality. He was no longer sure he would make it back to the capital for the sessionc but then, he was no longer sure the cell phone controversy would make it to the floor, thanks to the nest of problems he’d stirred up. He shouldbe in Shejidan for the session.

But he was likely to be here, on the west coast, trying to comprehend Edi interests and figure exactly how the dowager’s proposal was going to work in practicality.

Oh, the debate in the legislature was likely going to be loud and nasty.

Another armed set-to with the Marid?

Well, on the one hand, another Marid flare-up was the one thing he could think of that might draw the Padi Valley clans back together—fragmented as that local association had been since Murini’s clan, the Kadagidi, had seized power in alliance with the Marid. The Marid was generally detested now. By everyone—including the Padi Valley.

But, ironically, and on the other hand, a proposed Edi seat in the house of lords could see the Padi Valley andthe Marid united in opposition. The Padi Valley would oppose it because they were the old nobility and ran the legislature, and liked it that way. The Marid—

Well, the Marid needed no excuse at all to oppose the Edi.

Not to mention that certain conservatives in the legislature blamed the paidhi’s influence for the recent troubles. Now he would be associated with offering the Edi equality and a voice in politics.

He really, truly neededto preserve this one little sanctuary in the house, where he could get his thoughts together and figure out what to say when he finally did have to face the legislature.

And facing that moment with an acceptable solution already worked out would make life so much easier.

There were two keys to getting the Edi representation accepted. One was Lord Geigi, who, being the real lord of Kajiminda, and a good man, had long enjoyed the man’chi of the Edi people—before he had gone to space and left his estate to his sister and her fool son. If Geigi could sort out his domestic problems and regain that man’chi, his influence over the Edi could make the proposal a great deal more palatable to several factions.

The other key to the situation, oddly enough, was Ilisidi’s sometime lover and Cajeiri’s great-uncle—Lord Tatiseigi of the Atageini, that hidebound old man who didn’t approve of trains, telephones, television, space travel, humans, Southerners, Taibeni, west coasters, or anything ever imported from those sources.

Uncle Tatiseigi ran the Padi Valley Association, with its powerful sub-associations, on the sheer force of his antiquity. No, he didn’t want Tatiseigi here at Najida, physically, but dealing withTatiseigi was inevitablec and possibly to the good, since Tatiseigi swung a big weight with the conservatives—and since Ilisidi, above all others, could reason with the old man.

Especially since shehad evidently wanted to do this fifty years ago—bringing the disenfranchised majority of the west coast into the house of lords. Depend on it, ultimately Ilisidi tended to win her arguments, and knew Tatiseigi like a well-read book.

The wonder to him was that Tabini, the cleverest and most underhanded politician the continent had witnessed in centuries, second only to Ilisidi, had just walked in, passed that issue by with fairly moderate comment, and let his eight-year-old son stay in the middle of the situation.

The paidhi, who rated himself the thirdcleverest politician on the continent, was left wondering what had just happened, how many Marid agents there might be in the vicinity that Tabini’s agents hadn’tferreted out—and whether he, the human who didn’t have atevi senses to read the currents, was going to be blindsided twice in this war of towering egos and ancient agendas.

First on his own agenda, definitely, had to be making sure the Edi didn’t put an unfavorable intrepretion on the aiji’s visit.

And that meant making sure the Edi knew the aiji-dowager hadn’t changed her opinion.

Thatmeant dealing with Ilisidi when her blood was up.

A fool would do that. He wrote out a message, went out into the hall and gave it to a junior servant to give to Cenedi, senior of the dowager’s bodyguard. It said:

Certainly the Edi have noted the coming and going of the aiji-dowager’s grandson. The paidhi-aiji has accordingly sent an informal message to the Edi leadership offering a consultation should they wish one. The paidhi-aiji willingly takes all responsibility for such a meeting, whether on the premises or in the village, unless the aiji-dowager wishes otherwise.The answer came back in a few minutes. It read:

The paidhi-aiji may assure the Edi leadership that our statements stand.And from the Edi leadership, within the next hour, a young man, definitely not the Grandmother of Najida village, arrived in the little office, escorted by Banichi and Jago, and bowed respectfully. Dola, he said his name was, and one recalled seeing him the night of the village council meeting.

“Nand’ paidhi, the Grandmother asks if there is any change in the understandings.”

“One can assure the Grandmother that there is no change at all. The aiji had heard of the agreement.” That was a diplomatic understatement. “He issued no instruction about it. He was persuaded that his son was safe and that his grandmother was comfortable in her situation. The paidhi-aiji attended that meeting and knows these statements to be true. And the aiji-dowager particularly asks me to assure the Edi that the understandings have not changed.”

A bow and an immediately relaxed countenance. “Nand’ paidhi, one will say so.”

“One is grateful, nadi.” He bowed in turn, and that was that. The young man left, and he went back to his papers.

One matter handled.

The five clans of the Marid would be—doubtless having gotten wind of the visit by now—furious.

Beyond furious. If a leader of the Marid had had his schemes go this far astray—not only losing their smoothly running plot to marry their way into control of Kajiminda, but now provoking the aishidi’tat into establishing their historic enemies the Edi as a new power on the coast—that leader had to fear his own neighbors, whom he regularly held in check by threat and judicious assassination. In the last half-year that young man, who had loomed as the dark eminence behind Murini’s takeover—thus poised to assassinate Murini and take over the whole aishidi’tat—had lost the west coast a second time, thanks largely to the paidhi-aiji’s visit here, and was about to see the Marid’s old enemies gain legitimacy. If somebody attempted to take out Machigi, it would notbe somebody who favored the Edi taking power. It would most likely be somebody else from the Marid, incensed at his failure.

Perilous times indeed.

“The move to the library is proceeding, nadiin-ji?” he asked Banichi and Jago, when they came back after escorting the latest visitor to the front door.

“Proceeding rapidly,” Jago said. “We shall not break down all the equipment at once. Part of it will be set up and running in the library before we move the rest.”

A good idea, he thought, that they not be blind at any given moment. Matters had gotten that dicey over the last few days. There hadn’t been this concentration of high-value targets on the west coast in two hundred yearsc all sitting in Najida, which was a sprawling country house, not an ancient fortress.

And Machigi of the Taisigin Marid?

Machigi was going to move. He had to.

Bet on it.

4

« ^ »

One of the mundane tasks of the paidhi’s residency in Najida had been finding a replacement for the estate bus— which had lately come to grief—along with the service gate, the garden utility gate, the garage door, the garden wall, and part of the arbor.

And while the lord of Najida naturally wantedto patronize local businesses, the only dealer in such vehicles in the region was down in Separti Township, a district in which Tabini’s forces were still ferreting out the last of a Marid cell—the same cell that was indirectly responsiblefor the disaster to the gates, the garage door, and the garden premises.

So the paidhi had regretfully sent his business elsewhere: a call to his office staff in the Bujavid in Shejidan—and to his bank—had reportedly solved the problem, and the item had been acquired with no delay at all, and shipped. He had had his Shejidan staff select a stout, security-grade vehicle from a random choice among three such dealers in Shejidan, one with ample seating for, oh, about thirty persons.

His chief secretary had called back yesterday asking if he wanted to outlay extra for blackout shielding on the windows— no actual protection, but a way of making life more difficult for snipers.

Yes, that had seemed a good idea, all things considered.

Weight mattered. A totally secure vehicle, involving bulletproof glass as well, was a very slow-moving vehicle, and gulped fuel, a dependency which became its own vulnerability in attempting to maneuver across Sarini Province, which had very few fueling stations. He had fared well in the past by relying on agility. So, no, he would not prefer the armor-sided version, which was more apt for city use.

But the blackout shields would certainly be nice.

It was an expensive vehicle, far exceeding the ancient rattletrap of a bus they had wrecked. And an extravagance—but the old bus had been the same vintage as the village truck, the same as the grading and mowing and harvest equipment, warehoused and maintained down in Najida village—along with a firetruck, a pumper, for anyone in the district who needed it— all of these antiques inherited from the previous lord of Najida, now deceased. The village constabulary and its deputies were the usual mechanics, drivers, and operators of all these vehicles in Najidac and they would have to urgently read up on the manual for this one, one supposed. The new bus would be larger, air-conditioned, modern at every turn: and God knew there would be a learning curve—but they were adept mechanics, no fools at all, and at least the learning would be on country roads, not in winding city lanes.

Outside of the local market traffic between Najida and Najida estate, or either of those places and Kajiminda, or on down to Separti and Dalaigi, there were, in fact, very few roads in all the province, except those that went to the railhead or airport— and those were mostly mowed strips in the grass, with a few persistently bad spots graveled and the local streams bridged. You wanted to go to Separti? You went to Kajiminda, and took the road on from there. You wanted to go to the Maschi estate inland? You went to the train station, then took the train station road to the airport, and then drove across the end of the airstrip to pick up the Maschi Road.

Any people and baggage that had to go long distances on the continent moved by air or by train. And today, as happened, the morning, crack-of-dawn train originating in the capital was bringing them that fancy new bus, specially loaded onto a flat-car, to arrive a few hours before the airport would bring them Geigi.

That was about as tight scheduling as one could imagine, but just in time. There was a small fuel depot at the train station. That would get the bus rolling. Painting the Najida emblem on the new bus door? That would just have to wait, since it had its first job immediately after arrival, and had to pick up the welcoming committee and U-turn back up the road to the airport.

So everyone was up early as the new acquisition came purring nicely down the road and onto the drive. It pulled up under the portico with—Bren winced, watching it skin just under the portico roof—barely enough clearance—which he was sure staff hadchecked. There was not, thank goodness, a central light fixture under the portico: light came from fixtures on the five stonework pillars. And it missed them, too.

It stopped with much less fuss than the old bus, no wheeze or cough, and when it opened its doors, it exuded a new smell, an impressive sense of prosperity. It was a rich red and black— Tabini’s colors, not what one would have wished in this province, but there it was. It was red, it was shiny, it was—staff reported happily—very elegant inside.

Bren stood at the house door with Banichi and Jago and watched the proceedings in lordly dignity. The dowager had entirely declined to come outside, saying she trusted the bus would be everything it was promised to be, and that she would felicitate the acquisition from her warm fireside.

Cajeiri, however, with his whole bodyguard, was outside. Cajeiri managed to get right up to the bus doors, trying for a peek inside, obviously itching to go aboard and look it over.

The young lord did, however, defer to the owner, and came back to ask. “May one go aboard?” Cajeiri made a diffident, proper request, all but vibrating with restraint, and Bren indulged him with a laugh and a beneficent smile. He was curious about the interior himself, but dignity insisted he wait, and he simply stood and looked at it, and awaited his staff’s prior assessment of its fitness.

“It is very fine, nandi,” Ramaso reported to him. “The seats are gray leather, and the carpeting is gray.”

Not quite in harmony with local dust and mud, he thought. He hadn’t expressed a preference on color. He’d left that to staff and chance, willing to take any color that happened to be ready to roll onto a train car, roll off at Najida Station, and provide him and his staff with some transport that was not the sniper opportunity of an open truckbed. Red. Hardly inconspicuous, either.

“Stock it for a proper reception of our arriving guest,” he said to Ramaso. “Fruit juice, at this hour. The traditional things. And the bar. The space station’s time is not our time, so one has no idea what our guest will desire. One understands there will be a call advising us when Lord Geigi’s plane is about to land, not before then.”

That arrangement was for security’s sake. Geigi, they now knew, was coming in at Najida’s airport, which was hardly more than a grass strip and a wind sock—and from what prior landing they had had no information, for just the same reason of security. Separti Township, which had a much larger, round-the-clock airport, was not a thoroughly safe place, and one thought it just possible Geigi was coming in direct, taking a prop plane clear from Shejidan Airport. One was sure that if he did land at Separti, it would be with the aiji’s security in place to assure the safety of any plane he boarded therec but one had still had no word where exactly Geigi was, even yet.

Such grim thoughts kept the paidhi-aiji from quite enjoying the novelty of his big new bus. And upon Ramaso’s report, and without so much as a personal look inside, in proper lordly form, he retreated to his office to deal with the invoice that came with the bus, a thick bundle of papers which a servant brought him on a silver tray. The invoice, in six figures, debited his personal finances, not the estate—the bill would have upset the annual budget considerably, right when they wanted the books to look their best, in any upcoming legislative scrutiny of the Edi region.

At that point, Banichi and Jago traded off their duty with Tano and Algini—the latter reporting, as they arrived in the office, that the security office had finished the move to the library, and were set up there.

So he did the accounts and filed the papers while staff loaded the bus with necessary things. At a very small side table, Tano and Algini settled down to a quiet card game—a variant of poker had made its way to the mainland a decade ago, and atevi were quite good at it. Superstitious atevi put far too much ominous freight on its nuances, but atevi who weren’t at all superstitious about numbers were frighteningly adept. When those two played, it was a spectator sport.

And just a little distracting from the far more important numbers he was dealing with.

But he had ample business to occupy him: the finances regarding the bus were one account. Plus the estate needed to order in a delivery of fuel, what with all the recent coming and goingc and that delivery was, under current circumstances, a high security risk. The fueling station for the whole peninsula was in the village, a supply the village truck and the fishing boats and the estate bus all used. He wrote out orders for the fuel purchases, too, to be billed to his personal account. And he made a note to staff to consult security all the way on that delivery and to have several of the dowager’s staff overseeing it from the depot in Separti all the way to Najida.

He was not in the habit of spending money in such massive amounts. He generally let his finances accumulate, had let them ride for the last number of years, and was shocked to find the bus did notput a cautionary dent in his personal accounts. He only needed to move money from one account to another.

He had to do something with that personal excess. New harvesting machinery for Najida village. A modern fire truck, to serve Najida and Kajiminda. Maybe even a new wing on Najida that wouldallow more guests. Construction of that sort would employ more Najida folk. The estate occupied all the land there was on its little rocky knoll, without disturbing the beautiful rock-lined walk down to the shore, but the estate couldspread out to the west, by creating a new wing, along the village road.

Thatwould solve a problem. He had thought about expansion before; had considered siting the garage across the roadc but that would require a walkover arch for the road, which would require a second level on any structure to meet it on this side of the road, which would destroy the felicitious symmetry of the ancient housec Not to mention, it would impose a part of the house between Najida and their market. And thatwas an unwarranted disturbance in the people’s daily lives.

But by putting a whole new wing where the garage was, with no walkover, just the pleasant walk through the gardenc

Though an underground connection beneath the garden walk, for the house servants to get back and forth from that wing conveniently at all hours and in all weather would be useful.

Another plus: the garage, which the occupants of the house did not routinely visit, would notbe taking up a garden view. Instead, the garage would be relegated farther out into what was now scrub evergreen and some rocky outcrops, an area of no great natural beauty.

Brilliant solution. It would be minimal disturbance to the ancient garden, it would connect directly to the house—it would put the garage beyond a blank wall, and yet allow easy access to it.

He liked that.

Pen moved. He sketched. The new wing would have a basement connecting to that underground access, beneath the garden walk. So would the restored garage, also joining that underground passage; and the new wing basement could accommodate new staff quarters as well as storage—while the upper structure could be made with the same native stone construction and low profile as characterized the rest of the ancient house. The same terra cotta tile for the roof. And a double-glazed window—greater security than a plain one—overlooking the garden and the main house, the architecture of which had always gone unappreciated except from the garage door.

Excellent notion. A second window, looking out toward the harbor, where the rocks dropped away in a hitherto-unused prospect on the ocean. Maybe use thatfor a dining hall.

He could use local labor at every stage. Najida folk were clever, could learn anything necessary and the income would flow from the estate to the village, as it ought to.

And if the Edi people did build a hall for their own lord over in Kajiminda district—likely for the Grandmother of Najida village, but no one but the Edi quite knew where Edi authority truly resided—the skills of construction and the prosperity in Najida village would both feed into that project.

He liked his idea. He had a brand-new bus sitting in the driveway and a very useful air-castle rising in place of his wrecked gates.

Beside him, Tano and Algini still played poker. He sketched out his plan, derelict in his legislative duties. A new—second— ground floor bath. And a second, larger servants’ bath, with two sides, two baths, below. Thatwould be very useful.

Plumbing—he made a vague squiggle on his design. That detail was for experts to figure out. But another hot water tank on that side of the house would certainly be useful.

God, he was spending money left and right this morning, and he was in uncharted territory now, having no practical knowledge of the costs of such a construction.

He should talk to—

A rap at the door interrupted both the card game, and his daydream of easy, sweeping solutions.

Jago opened the door and slipped inside. “Lord Geigi’s staff has just contacted us, Bren-ji. He is in the air at Mori, and will land here, we estimate, within the hour. The new bus is fueled and stocked and in order. The guest quarters are available now, and furnished with linens. The truck is on its way up from the village. We are ready.”

“Excellent.” He looked at the wall clock. So Lord Geigi, having landed at Shejidan, had come into an airport near the Isles by jet, and was coming down the coast from the Isles by prop planec inventive route, possibly with time for contact with old allies on the northern coast. “We should be moving, then.”

The card game had ended, unfinished. Jago gave a single hand sign to Tano and Algini that simply amounted to, “Banichi and I will go with Bren,” and that was that: all arrangements made. Tano and Algini would stay with the monitoring, along with Cenedi and his men, and Banichi and Jago would go with him to the airstrip.

Certain house staff would go with them, too, particularly to handle the luggage, additional of which might be coming in a second plane—one would not be at all surprised at that arrangement. Personal baggage could go into the underside of the fancy new bus; but the village truck would be a prudent backup, so as not to leave any of Lord Geigi’s belongings exposed at the little airstrip, begging the kind of michief they had had.

Moving an atevi lord anywhere was an exercise in complex logistics, but what a lord saw generally went smoothly—thanks to staff.

And all he needed do was go to his bedroom, put on a nicer coat—Koharu and Supani helped him with the lace and the pigtail and the fresh white ribbon, the white of neutrality being the paidhi-aiji’s heraldry and sign of office. That was his choice for the meeting, a politic choice considering the color choice of the bus.

Then he walked out and down the hall toward the front door, picking up Jago and Banichi along the way, along with four of the dowager’s guard, for a little extra security. One of the dowager’s men would drive, this trip—Banichi and Jago were, on his orders, taking it a little easy the last several days.

It was a wonderful bus, on the inside—new-smelling, modern, and clean, with very comfortable seats, its own lavatory, and a well-stocked galley. NowBren finally got to enjoy it, and enjoy it he did, in a seat of atevi scale, plenty of room for a human, new upholstery, and deeply cushioned, responsive even to a human’s lighter weight, and with a place for his feet. “No, nadiin-ji,” he said, to the staff’s offer of fruit juice. “I shall enjoy it with Lord Geigi when he arrives. Kindly serve it once he is aboard.”

The bus had, besides the luxury of a galley, air conditioning and the very nice protection of windows that appeared black to the outside, even without using the pull-down shutters.

The engine positively purred with power.

And the front seats were arranged by opposing pairs, so that he and a guest, or, at least on the way out, Banichi and Jago, could sit facing one another. There were pull-out trays in the arm-rests, like those on a transcontinental jet. And footrests— the paidhi was particularly happy with that arrangement, usually having his feet dangling in atevi-scale transport. He settled back in utter comfort and watched the slightly shaded landscape go past in backwards order, while Banichi and Jago, similarly comfortable, and armed to the teeth, casually watched for trouble on the road ahead.

None developed. They crossed the tracks at the station and kept going on a reasonably maintained gravel road—thank Najida village for that convenience—which led to, one and a half fairly smooth kilometers from the train station, a small, flat-roofed building with a fueling station, a recently mowed grass strip, and a single windsock.

They parked and waited.

And in time, delayed a little, perhaps, by the soundproofing, one of Ilisidi’s young men thought he heard a plane.

The driver opened the bus door for that young man to listen. Everyone else agreed they heard it.

Finally Bren didc by which time the sharp-eyed young men, gathered at those side windows, said they actually saw it coming. Atevi were just that much keener of hearing and sight—night-sight, in particular. The only area in which humans had the physical advantage was in spotting things when the sun was at its brightest.

In this case, the sound grew until, yes, the human heard it, too. And sure enough, what appeared in approach was a fair-sized plane, a twin prop, a model that served the smaller towns and the outlying islands, where short strips and high winds were the rule. It wasn’t the sleekest of craft that came in, fat-bodied, with high-mounted wings and a blunt, broad nose, but it managed the single strip handily, even in the mild crosswind. Landing gear came down, and it touched down reasonably smoothly, then taxied about and maneuvered back toward the small building and their waiting bus.

The engine slowed to a lazy rotation of the props. The plane’s door opened, lowering as a set of steps. Two of the dowager’s men from the bus and two Guildsmen from inside the plane stepped out—numbers mattered in a situation, and what that read was not an infelicity of two on either side, but an implied felicity of three: they each represented someone protected by their immediate company.

Now it was for one more of them on the bus to create a new felicitous number.

He didn’t need to say so. Jago got up and went out, down the steps, solo, felicitous seventh in the arrangement; and hers was a face and form that Lord Geigi’s guard would recognize in an instant.

Lord Geigi was indeed the arriving party. His considerable bulk immediately appeared in the doorway—which demanded a response.

Bren got up and went out himself, quicker on the short descent from the bus than Lord Geigi, who had further to go, and whose rotund shape needed a little caution on the narrow steps. Two more of Geigi’s men came out. Banichi and one of the dowager’s men followed Bren.

Beyond that, once lordly feet were on the ground, superstition went by the wayside, neither he nor Geigi doing more than observing the forms; and now numbers ceased to matter. Staff poured out on both sides in brisk application to business. Baggage compartments opened up on the plane and the bus. The truck, which had also pulled up behind the bus, started up and trundled closer to take its own share of whatever was not to go on the bus.

None of which activity was at all the lords’ business. Bren walked forward and bowed, Geigi bowed, and then they bowed again, in lieu of hugging one another, which would have been the human response to the meeting.

Broad smiles, however, were definitely in common. They were old allies.

“Geigi-ji,” Bren said. “One is delighted to offer transport.”

“Bren-ji,” Geigi said, “one is ever so pleased at such personal courtesy. One delights to see you well despite all the to-do I hear of.”

“Will you come aboard, nandi, and accept the hospitality of my house tonight?”

“Gladly, nandi. Very gladly, my own house being, I understand, in some disarray. One also understands Najida has a relative of mine imposing on its patience, in consequence. One very earnestly apologizes for that necessity.”

They had started walking toward the bus steps.

And Bren nodded acknowledgement of the courtesy. “One is gratified, however, to see Kajiminda safe in allied hands. The aiji’s men have things there in good order, as I understand. But do postpone such stressful business, Geigi-ji, in favor of a pleasant ride and a leisurely reception and dinner under my roof. My staff will be delighted to make your visit an occasion in the household tonight and as long as you wish. And the aiji-dowager would never forgive me if I let you say no to it.”

“One very much looks forward to Najida’s hospitality,” Geigi said, laboring up the bus steps. Then he paused to glance down at Bren. “And I will have somewhat to say to my nephew.”

“At your convenience, ” Bren agreed, and followed him up into relative security, behind darkened windows.

Were they not such close associates, two of Geigi’s people— Geigi had four Guild bodyguards and four Edi-born domestics bustling about—would have gone up first to look the situation overc but only one of his black-clad Guildsmen joined them. Aboard the bus only the fourth of Ilisidi’s men, the driver, and one of the Najida servants awaited them. Banichi and Jago were busy outside with the rest of the guard.

Such was the level of trust between them.

There were bangs and thumps from below as baggage went aboard. “Please take the seat opposite mine, nandi,” Bren said, and: “Nadi—” This to the sole remaining staffer. “Refreshment for our guest, now, if you would be so kind. —What will you have, Geigi-ji? Fruit juice, tea, perhaps spirits at this hour?”

Lord Geigi named his drink, a local fruit juice impossible to obtain on the station, a choice which Bren had guessed; and the young servant in charge turned and looked questioningly in Bren’s direction: the juice Geigi had chosen was alkaloid-laden, bad choice for a human. “Orange, if you please,” Bren added, for his own order. “Thank you, nadi.”

Lord Geigi, poised at his seat, meanwhile, looked admiringly about the new bus, floor to ceiling, and about the tinted windows and array of leather seats.

“Extraordinary. Very elegantly appointed, Bren-ji,” Geigi said. He sat down and ran his fingers over the gray leather. Extended his foot rest. “It smells new. You have prospered, Bren-ji. None more deservingly.”

Geigi was a man who appreciated his luxuries, wherever met.

“We are honored to have you as our first passenger. One regrets to say, the last bus, and Kajiminda’s portico, jointly came to grief. One does need to tell you so, with great regret.”

“Piffle. The matter of the portico—” Geigi waved a dismissive hand as Bren settled into the facing seat. “One is only glad you and your companion escaped unscathed, Bren-ji, and regrets to know your driver was not so fortunate.”

So Geigi had gotten most of the details, likely directly from Tabini.

“The driver is recovering well, however.”

“One rejoices to hear so.” A sigh. “One hopes my Kajiminda has not suffered too many bullet holes. Ah, for my porcelains— and no staff to protect them. Damn my nephew.”

“The house itself looked in fair order when I was inside, just before the incident, and one hopes the aiji’s forces have operated with some finesse since. Kajiminda is a district treasure, and one is certain they will attempt to respect that.”

“One wonders,” Geigi said with a second sigh, “one wonders whether I am still fit to maintain it in my trust, Bren-ji.”

Such a sad assessment, and no time to answer it, except to say: “One believes you are very fit, indeed, Geigi-ji. And the province so very desperately needs you right now.” There was a final, louder thump as the baggage door shut, the essential luggage evidently now taken below. Directly after that, Banichi and Jago came back aboard and the rest of Geigi’s bodyguard arrived behind them. Domestic staff arrived, too, filing to the rear, Geigi’s servants with them, four men in clothing that had everything to do with the efficiency and economy of the space station, and nothing at all with the natural fibers one would buy in Najida village. It was a little breath of the filtered, synthesized and highly organized culture of the space station that had arrived with Lord Geigi—and how these four cousins would be received by the rustic Edi of the coast remained to be seen.

Geigi and his household were all sea-changed. The Guildsmen attending Geigi would have grown much more reliant on intercoms and were accustomed to computers monitoring everything that moved. And all this staff spoke a patois of station-speak and Ragi, words drifting past that Bren understood, and his aishid certainly understood, but most of the staff at Najida would not.

Too, unhappy thought, it had been a long time since Geigi’s bodyguard or Geigi’s servants had had to deal with any threat of assassination.

Geigi’s household needed to adjust its attitudes and its reactions to local reality, and that lack of practice was worrisome. Geigi’s personal bodyguard would catch up, fast, once back in a Guild environment. Their trained attentiveness would reassert itself under the influence of top-level Guild staff like the paidhi-aiji’s and the aiji-dowager’s guard. But the personal attendants—

Therewas an accident waiting to happen, from kitchens to front door.

The driver revved the engine softly and the bus gently began to move, backing and turning past the sole building of the airstrip, before it headed back down the road.

“Anything Najida can do to assist,” Bren said for openers. “Indeed, Geigi-ji, anything the paidhi-aiji personally can do to assist in Kajiminda’s recovery, one will be honored to do. And one absolutely insists, for a start, to repair the porticoc”

“No such thing, Bren-ji! You were assaulted by a member of my household! Should you pay the damages, too?”

“One refuses to consider Baiji’s failings in any way connected to my old associate, and one charitably hopes the attack was not even by Baiji’s direct order. No, Geigi-ji, I blame my enemies and yours. So do please allow me to make that gesture of repairing the premises, to salve my memory of such a calamity.”

“Your generosity is extreme, but, yes, it is welcome,” Geigi said, “since you have local resources, and I have few. And one day, Bren-ji, I personally shall reciprocate such a favorc”

“One hopes in no event more severe than wind and weather!” Bren said with a little laugh—then soberly: “And in one sense, Geigi-ji, and to give him due credit, your nephew prepaid the debt. He was instrumental in rescuing the aiji’s sonc”

“For reasons one fears may be entirely dishonest,” Geigi interjected glumly. “One has heard about the incident. One very much doubts his intentions, under the circumstances.”

“Oh, I do give him at least credit for the attempt, Geigi-ji; and possibly for a little courage in doing so. One believes he even thought of making a run for Najida. But he was surely not alone on that boat. And it was possibly at some personal risk that he called me to tell me where the boy was. For that, for even the remote chance that was the case, I forgive him other things. But not all of them.” The bus joined the road, and now nosed toward home.

“I rather fear the aim was to draw you into proximity,” Geigi said. “I forgive him nothing.” A small silence. “I should have had no illusions about him. I should have made the trip down to the world long before now.”

“I fear you would have come to grief, Geigi-ji. One hates to say it, but the enemy had gotten their foothold in your house, even if they were not there in force. One is very glad you delayed a visit.”

“I have the most terrible fears what my nephew may have done to the estate over the last year. My collections. My antiques. The boy’s earliest request of me was for money, when the phones first worked again. When I heard my sister had died and learned hewas in charge, I was shocked. I gave him latitude, however. I drew money from Shejidan to supply him, fool I!”

“Likely some of it did go to the estate. Surely it did.”

“I trusted my staff was still in place, to report any untoward actions. And now I suspect they were justifiably out of sorts with me for leaving them. I had left them to bad management. They left without advising me. Kajiminda was deserted to its enemies with, as I gather, absolutely no warning.”

“Alas,” Bren said. “One understands your distress. But one does not see it as a mark of disregard by the Edi folk, rather of their confusion in our situation. Many people were still in fear, even after the aiji came back to Shejidan. Many people, to tell the truth, are still in some fear that the trouble has gone underground, and may still come back.”

“Did you see none of my old staff at Kajiminda, Bren-ji? Not a one?”

“None that I clearly recognized: in truth, I think they all went, and fairly recently. I did not succeed in getting plain answers from the Grandmother of Najida on what happened, or why, but one surmises they found themselves suddenly up against Guild, Geigi-ji, and I believe that answers a great deal. There was a new bodyguard arrived, the same people I blame for the attack on me and my staff. I think your Edi staff realized who these new people were, they did not trust the house phones, they feared Marid agents; and they ran, advising no one—possibly not even the people of Najida, possibly fearing to draw trouble down on them—or I truly think my own staff would have been certain enough of danger to warn me off, and they did not do that, Geigi-ji. You were not the only one to be caught by surprise. I was. I was, and the aiji-dowager was.”

“One is shocked by that!”

“I have had time to consider it. I do not think badly of the Edi, or of my staff. I think the desertion of the last staff from Kajiminda happened as I said, very recently, even days ago, without notice to Najida, and one only hopes they all made it out alive.”

“I have brought four of my house staff with me. They may extract some answers locally. I must say, this is such dismal news, Bren-ji. And Najida village cannot inform you? This is very grim.”

“Grim, indeed,” Bren said, “and I do urge you tell your people to use greatest caution in searching about the district after answers. Sarini Province is not safe. When I say we need you—we do most urgently need you, and your local connections, andauthority. Your staff must trust no one, not even other Edi, until the whereabouts of former staff havebeen entirely explained. One does not believe the Marid could suborn Edi to turn against their own—but threats against family are hard to resist. Or local Edi might well be trying to deal with the threat without my knowing—which would bring the Guild into things the Edi may not want known. They have had their own operations during the Troubles, up and down the coast and including the Gan people. One hardly knows what touchy situations one might stumble into, or where covert things lie buried.”

“One follows your reasoning, Bren-ji. Unhappily, one does, and we havehad such a discussion among us, my staff and I. My staff insists none of their people could be traitors, even under the greatest threat. But they still have deep concerns, and know where to inquire, or hope they do.” Geigi heaved a deep sigh. “Such a world. Such a world.” And another sigh. “I must ask— such a petty question, among such large considerations: but my orchard. I was so fond of it. How did it fare in all this? Did you notice at all?”

“I glanced that direction, and saw the trees through the gate, apparently well, though this early in the season, my eye cannot readily tell. This I did observe: the estate roads were not at all kept up. The outlying walls could certainly do with painting. Details—again, I have no idea, Geigi-ji. I noticed no sign of damage there, but I was paying most attention to the oddness of your nephew’s behavior.”

“Understandably so. The wretch!”

“One hoped to do a favor for my old ally and neighbor and solve a local problem discreetly. I very little thought it would come to this.” He shook his head. “I have had time to think about it, and I suspect, do you know, that my staff was hinting hard, believing, possibly, that my arrival had something to do with the local problem, that the aiji was investigating, through me, and that Iwas being reticent with them. I took the aiji’s son with me—that had them convinced, I fear, that I was up to something, in light of other covert operations, as Tabini-aiji’s return has restructured the north coast. So they were notinvolving themselves, not when they thought it was a clandestine move. They expected trouble from it, and perhaps expected Guild to sweep down from the heavens. That old mistrust between Ragi and Edi, Geigi-ji. You understand that better than I do. Am I amiss in my speculation?”

“One would concur, if they thought it was Guild business. That would be their great fear, that with the disappearance of Edi staff, they might be suspected of wrongdoing, and theirdoings would be questioned and investigatedc some of which one admits may not be quite—legal. And, to be fair, by all past history, the Ragi presence would turn everything on its head, then quit the province and go back to the capital—leaving them prey to Marid retaliation.”

“The aiji-dowager herself arrived, and I persisted with my plans to visit Kajiminda. I surely confused them.”

“One thing you can rely on,” Geigi said. “Even if they trust your intentions, and even if they highly regard certain Guild members, the Edi people will not trust the Guild. In this district, in past administrations, the Guild’s operations have been the Guild’s operations, beyond even the power of the aiji to steer them. And the history between the Guild and the Edi is grim. I did discuss it with the aiji: he says freely that his intelligence failed you. And failed the dowager, too. He greatly regrets it. My nephew declined to go to court this fall. My nephew told me, when I heard and reproached him for it, that he thought he had no authority to represent me, the damned little slink. And Marid spies were doubtless into the house by then.”

“I surmise,” Bren said quietly, “that he truly deluded himself that he still ran things. And as we entered the house, and the Guild who had become his bodyguard suddenly maneuvered to take us out, they suddenly broke all pretense of taking his orders, and began to behave differently. At that point he wanted rescue. I do believe that.”

“Ha!” Geigi said. “You are too generous. He wanted to keep himself safe!”

“That certainly was in it. He brought us into the sitting room. My staff had an increasingly uneasy feeling and at their signal I got up to leave. He was increasingly distraught, and followed us to the door.” A sigh, and the unpleasant truth. “He declined my suggestion to order his own car and follow us: that was just. They would have held him from it. He wanted to go with us, he said. And I declined that, because the heir was with us. In that regard, I fear I put him in a terrible position. And when we left, under fire, Banichi threw him onto our bus and restrained him.”

“Baji-naji,” Geigi said. “My sister was a good womanc industrious and sensible in all respects, except her doting on that vicious, stupidboy. He may have asked you for rescue, Bren-ji, but he had had chances before that, and I think it was fear of discovery of all his little connivances that prevented him appealing to Shejidan. I think it was greed for more that drove him closer and closer to the situation in which you discovered him. I have the notion all sorts of things will come to light, not least of them financial. He had not thought it through—he saw his misdeeds called into question, if you or the aiji-dowager got onto the case. He feared the Marid. He was, perhaps, about to double-deal them, fearing the aiji would come down on him. But they would kill him in a moment to keep quiet what he knew. And if he has a brain, he knows that now. If they had killed you—he would have turned coat again and continued dealing with them until the next crisis. If theyhave a brain among them, they know heswings to every wind!”

Refreshment fortunately arrived at that moment. It arrived nicely served on a tray, in fine glasses. And one did not continue a deep discussion, least of all a heated one, past the arrival of any service or the attendance of staff. Geigi heaved a sigh, took the generous glass, and calmed himself with several deep breaths. Bren took his, and quieted his nerves.

“Fresh juice,” Geigi murmured reverently, and lifted his glass and took a very small sip. His eyes shut. “Bliss. Ah, Bren-ji. This is purest liquid bliss. So good. One had forgotten how good.”

Juice reached the station only in frozen concentrate, and not even that, in the priorities of shipment since the coup. It was a traditional welcome in the capital, this early in the day: One had anticipated it would be a treat, and Geigi savored it with a delicate sip and closed his eyes for two sips, and three.

“Ah,” he said. “Ah, Bren-ji. Now I am home.”

“Have you anything else coming in by rail, Geigi-ji?” Bren asked; the road was passing near the train station.

“No,” Geigi said. “Only what we carry. One hesitated to make extravagant demands on the shuttle, coming down, no matter the aiji’s kind indulgence.” A deep sigh. “This may not have been a wise decision, to rely on Kajiminda’s resources—if my fool nephew has plundered the place.”

“Najida stands ready to assist in whatever resupply Kajiminda may lack,” Bren said. “We shall send linens over, food, everything.”

“You are beyond generous. I thank you, I profoundly thank you.” A moment of silence then, and afterward, a refill on the juice. That glass went down. And: “One can bear it, Bren-ji, now that one is fortified. Tellme now. You have told me the exonerating moment. Tell me the very worst you suspect of my nephew. The imagination of Baiji’s misdeeds has quite depressed my appetite. Financial damage. One is certain of it. Harm to my staff. Can there be worse?”

Gentle, plump Geigi had a temper, and a hot one when it finally stirred. And it was very grim, indeed, what he himself suspected. But Geigi asked. One could not lie to him. And delivering the truth, before Geigi could hit the house uninformed, was why he had undertaken this trip out to meet Geigi.

“I do fear worse,” he said.

“Say it,” Geigi said.

“One suspects, Geigi-ji, one suspects—not, indeed, of Baiji, but certainly of his allies—your sister’s decline in health—”

“Gods unfortunate! I knew it!”

“Forgive me, Geigi-ji. This is only my surmise.”

“No, go on, go on, Bren-ji! I want to hear this! I want to hear it all!”

“Her death was too opportune for the Marid. Your sister was astute in most matters. Not so your nephew. Thatmay have drawn them in.”

Geigi heaved a mournful sigh, shaking his head. “She was not in good health. One had not thought. And that boy, that unspeakable boy—”

“Forgive me, nandi, but I rather blame his gullibility.”

“Gullibility and greed together. His mother, in my last calls to her, and hers to me, had been allowing him certain duties, and she claimed he was fulfilling them with some promise. Now one suspects—gods, one suspects—she allowed him some management, and he brought a Marid Assassin under the roof! Murder, Bren-ji! His own mother! Gods above, one does not wish to believe that, even of him!”

“One does not believe he knew,” Bren said. “I think that he was genuinely grieved at your sister’s passing. And very much alone at that point. But he had associates to rush to him and console him and advise himc in those months when communications with the world were cut off.”

During Murini’s administration, when Tabini had been overthrown, and the shuttles had stopped flying, and communication with the space station had stopped.

“We were receiving intelligence relayed up from Mospheira,” Geigi said, “but from the south coast, we had nothing in those days, nothing but reports of unrest and resistence action. He was claiming her post—he was all I had in place. I had no way to intervene.”

“One so regrets it, Geigi-ji.”

“And I so worriedfor that boy’s sake! I sent him letters of advice and encouragement the moment the blackout ended. I actually sent him my understanding this winter when he missed the court session. He must have laughed at that.”

“One thinks, rather, nandi-ji, he grew afraid, and perhaps had the wit to be afraid not only ofyou. Perhaps he grew afraid foryou should you come down to the world and walk into the situation he had created. He fears you to this day. He fears you extremely. He is terrified at the dowager’s apprehension of his crimes; but he is mortally terrified of you. So far as a human can possibly judge, he still does not understand the magnitude of what his allies have done, let alone what they still intend. Mostly, in his eyes, as I suspect—he would still find greater importance in the world by this marriage with the Marid girl. The status of that match would somehow make you respect him. The implication that these people may have assassinated his mother—I did tell him what I suspect—has hit him hard, if a human is any judge of that at all.”

Geigi’s eyes, deep set in, for an ateva, an extraordinarily plump face, were both quick and thoughtful. He pursed his lips and nodded. “You need not deprecate your perception of us, Bren-ji. The paidhi-aiji is notwithout skill in reading us. I can accept he is grieved: she doted on him, all but fed him from her plate as if he were three, and told him every move to make. She greatly exaggerated his accomplishments in her calls to me: I knew that, if nothing else. Now he is alone and unadvised. Consequences he thought he would never see are coming down on his head and his mother is not here to cover his sins. Miss her? Infelicitous gods, of course he misses her!”

A deep, deep breath. “What else do you read in him, paidhi-aiji?”

“That he has to this hour no real apprehension that the world has changed.” He drew a deep breath. “For the Marid’s help in seizing power, Murini did not reward Machigi of the Tasigin. Whatever Murini’s failings, he was never that great a fool. Murini apparently told the Marid to keep their hands off the west coast—I have no proof, but suspect it—and the Marid decided to proceed in their usual way, by stealth, to get their way—they were already moving. Your sister was only their first target. They were plotting to take the whole west coast. I think they had been after that, even before they prompted Murini to seize Shejidan.”

“Building a power base, by doubling the size of their lands, that would almost equal the central and northern clans combined. At that point—they would be as powerful as the aishidi’tat.”

“Murini would not have been able to withstand them once they had that secure,” Bren said, “and if they should succeed now, even with Tabini back in power—they would stillpose an immense threat. Thatis what the aiji-dowager sees, I believe. Tabini-aiji will not quite admit it, but I think he has been playing the Marid, trying to figure what they are up to, where the next strike will come, and has seen every complicated possibility exceptthe rural west coast. And the key to controlling the west coast is—”

“My clan’s treaty with the Edi people.”

“Exactly so. Murini’s supporters—notably the Marid—did notattack my estate during the Troubles, when small coups had taken the mayoralties of little fishing villages clear up in the Isles. Thatis what I find most suspiciousc two large estates, and no move from the Marid against the property of either of us, who were most notably their enemies. The Edi say it was because the Marid was afraid to start a war with them. I think differently. I think the Marid objective was always Kajiminda, for themselves, and they were going after it covertly, against Murini’s orders. When Tabini retook the capital, the Marid suddenly took a very soft approach with Tabini-aiji, claiming they had a revised view of the world—but from what we see here, they kept right on going with their plan. They were going to marry their way into Kajiminda, your nephew was going to fall ill, the Marid wife would run things, and thenthe Marid, behaving ever so nicely in Shejidan, was going to claim Najida through the same inheritance connection with the Maladesi that won them my apartment in the city. Nobody in Shejidan thinks the rural coast is that important. The revenge on me, putting meon the losing side of Bujavid politics, would be particularly pleasant to them—but the fact is, they really do have that distant claim. It is at least arguable. The legislature might insist, to settle the peace for good and all. And there we would be, with the Marid quietly, one step at a time, taking over the west coast, never making a fuss, becoming so, so agreeable and always appearing to be working within the laws. I would be shifted over to some other property the aiji would give me to compensate, probably in another district, and nobodywould be set up to handle the Edi’s interests, except the newly reformed Marid, who are their worst enemies—and does the Ragi center of the country think that a problem? No. Tabini-aiji has had to rebuild the association brick by brick. Everylittle interest has some little claim they want addressed, out of the aiji’s gratitude for their support, of course; but the aishidi’tat is a maze of conflicting claims—an absolute mess, in fact. The Farai claim on the Maladesi inheritance—my properties—is one of a hundred such. How can they be more suspect than any other, after all this upheaval?”

Geigi stared at him, thought it over, and finally heaved an angry sigh. “It makes sense. Gods less fortunate, it makes awful sense, Bren-ji. Have you told all this to the aiji?”

“ Ihave not told the aiji, but my aishid and the dowager’s have surely relayed our suspicions to the aiji’s men.” Information necessarily flowed through protected channels. One did not make pronouncements without proof behind the statement: one hinted, and it was the Guild that investigated such things. “And now you are here. We are so very glad, Geigi-ji.”

“One begins to understand.”

“Here is the concrete proof we have: my aishid has informed me, and the aiji now knows, that the Guild that had operated at Kajiminda were not Maschi. They were from the Marid. Second: there was an assassination in Separti Township. It was unattributed. Baiji claims to know it was Marid agents. The turning point of his understanding, so he said to me, was when he tried to put the first visitors off. He falsely claimed he had a verbal understanding with a young lady south of Separti—and that whole family was assassinated.”

“Gods less fortunate!”

“Indeed. He claims he has constantly found other ways to stall them, claiming he was in mourning for his mother, claiming various things, but the Marid were insistent. You, on the station, were dropping relay stations from space during the Troubles. You were setting up a satellite network to threaten Murini’s regime. You were bringing cell phone technology to Mospheira—it was quite clear that you were trying to encourage someone to take out Murini. So fearing that the tide might turn at any moment and possibly fearing the rumors that Tabini was not dead, the Marid accelerated their demands on your nephew and set up a base in the township before we returned from space. At a certain point, they were going to force that marriage, and your nephew, do him credit, was still stalling even after Tabini-aiji turned up alive. Was still stalling, even this late, when I came to visit. If he had had the courage, he could have gone out on the boat, sailed over to Najida and trusted mystaff to get him safely to Shejidan. But he did not. I admit my affairs are complex—and confusing even to my staff, who did not know where I stood, but—”

“One is absolutely aghast and appalled, Bren-ji.”

“The dowager has promised her support of a house and a lordship for the Edi—you do know that.”

“The dowagerhas made this proposal?”

“One was certain the aiji would have told you.”

“The aiji mentioned there was some local proposal sent up for such a move. I thought it was you!”

“It was the dowager’s proposal and her idea from the beginning. I had no idea she would do it.”

“Well, well. I am not, myself, opposed to it.” Geigi’s face grew sad, the offering of true feelings between old associates, as he dropped any pretense of impassivity. “I have my household on the station. There is my best service to the aishidi’tat, for now and in the foreseeable future. They cannot do without me up there, Bren-ji. Perhaps I shouldcede Kajiminda to the Edi. They would treat it well. Certainly better than my nephew has done. Those things that are Maschi treasures—let them go back to the clan estate at Targai.”

“Wait on that,” Bren said. “Wait, to be sure of your feelings in the matter, honored neighbor; and if I must plead the aiji’s case—preserve the aishidi’tat’s options by holding the treaty as it stands. The relationship between your Maschi clan and the Edi is a great asset in the aishidi’tat. That Kajiminda remain in Maschi hands—is part of that treaty. Building an Edi house, however—this would be my suggestionc supposing, of course, that the aiji does grant this lordship. And I do think he will.”

“The firestorm in the legislature can only be imagined,” Geigi said with a great sigh, and that was the truth. “The inland lords will certainly oppose it. Ragi clan itself will have apoplexies. The Marid—”

“Indeed, the Marid.”

Geigi’s eyes had widened. “They will bolt from the Association. They will declare war. Is this ’Sidi-ji’s desire?”

“It is certainly the likelihood. Things willchange when this becomes public. The relationship the Marid has to the aishidi’tat has given us several wars and a coup, and in my opinion, things mustchange, so that we have no future coup. Perhaps I am too reckless. But the dowager supports this notion, and I am with her on this matter. See what you have walked into, Geigi-ji.”

“Bold. Bold, to say the least.”

“Should you wish to return to the capital—”

“By no means! I wish to be part of this!”

“We will weather the storm,” Bren said. “This region will weather it, and the aishidi’tat will emerge from this, one hopes, with the addition of an ally it can truly trust—the Edi andthe Gan peoples—rather than the South, which has attempted to break up the Association from its outset. So if the five clans of the Marid bolt from the Association, good riddance. That is my view, and the dowager’s, I am convinced. Your support in this matter would speak with a definitive voice—and I personally, would be very much relieved. I value your good opinion, and your judgement, and thisis why I have come out to meet you here, and not in Najida, and to have this talk with you: to tell you what has gone on, and what is being arranged, personally to beg your help—and to give you the opportunity to catch the train back to Shejidan without setting foot in Najida under these circumstances, should that be your choice.”

Geigi looked at him with a directness and emotion rare in his class andhis kind. “One will never forget this gesture, Bren-ji. One will not forget this extraordinary respect.”

“To a greatly valued associate, in a relationship which has stood many, many tests, Geigi-ji. I have the utmost trust in your wisdom and your honesty. Our mutual connections to the aiji and to the aiji-dowager can do a great deal to stabilize this district—at a time when, we both know, in events in the heavens, stability of the aishidi’tat is absolutely critical.”

“There was a time you had great reason to distrust Kajiminda; and there was a time Ihad a Marid wife, and there was a time when I myself trod the outskirts of the aiji’s good will. And yet you have consistently trusted me, Bren-ji. You bewilder me.”

“I have trusted you despite those things. And still do, Geigi-ji.” He added, in Mosphei’, which they had not used: “Humans are crazy like that.”

“Crazy,” Geigi echoed him, “means so many things. Now I am an aging lord, with my estate in disarray. Whyhave you trusted me? You cannot think favors buy favor when clan is involved. You know us far better than that, and you are above all no fool, Bren-ji.”

He smiled. “A few months ago some would have called me a fool to stand by Tabini-aiji. The odds were everywhere against him. I have this most irrational pleasure in your company and this perfectly rational trust in your judgement. You could have declared yourself aiji, in the heavens. And yet you did not, did you, Geigi-ji?”

“I love my comforts too much to be aiji. It is a veryuncomfortable office.”

“You see? You saved the whole aishidi’tat, Geigi-ji. Had Tabini actually been lost—you would have held fast. And that proposition has no doubt.”

“Ha! If I had been put to it, I would have found an aiji and named him.”

“And the world, I have every confidence, would have listened. Your power is inconvenienced, but not at all in ruins. You are held in greatest respect, not alone among atevi.”

“You are very generous, Bren-ji.”

“I am accurate. Why do you suppose the aiji-dowager favors you?”

“Ha!” Geigi laughed outright. “What was between me and ’Sidi-ji certainly does not apply in your case, Bren-ji.”

“Then say we both favor her, and we both know that if we were irrelevant she would not bother with us, and if either one of us merited her disapproval, neither of us would breathe the air. Sheis our ultimate judge, Geigi-ji!”

A laugh, silent, and thoughtful. “ ’Sidi-ji. Yes.” A flicker of the eyes. “There is ’Sidi-ji. If she does not yet call me a fool, then I suppose I may indeed weather this.”

“You shall. One insists on it!”

“She came. With the young lord.”

“The young lord came to visit me. Shecame to see to him. Likewise my brother and his lady, who were visiting when this whole untoward situation presented itself.”

“Shall I see them all, then? I have longed to meet your brother!”

“My brother and Barb-daja will come up to dinner, very likely, which I assure you will be extravagant in your honor. One has given those orders.” He had, in fact, ordered every local delicacy Geigi would have missed all these years. “The actual accommodations I fear are cramped: Najida is a small estate, and my bodyguard now lodges in the library, and my brother and his lady stay on their boat in the harbor.”

“One trusts my nephew is by no means honored with a suite, under such circumstances!”

“Nandi, we have lodged him in a servant’s room in the basement, where there are no windows.”

“Good!” Geigi said, taking a sip of the new drink that had turned up under his hand. “I shall be extremely grateful to stay under your roof tonight, Bren-ji, myself and my staff. We may have no little work to do at Kajiminda, but I am indeed feeling fortified, hearing how things are taken care of.”

“One delights to hear it.”

“The young lord, whom I saw so briefly last year—the boy must be approaching his fortunate birthday.”

“In two months,” Bren said. Nine, following the unnameable eighth, was a very felicitous birthday, and at times they had despaired of Cajeiri ever reaching that happy year. “He has grown in very many ways, Geigi-ji, even in the months since you saw him. He has lately become quite the young gentleman, with encouraging signs of keen judgement.”

5

« ^ »

It would have been far, far more fun to be on the new bus looking out the windows and trying out all the interesting features.

But Great-grandmother had nipped that notion before Cajeiri had even laid his plans.

“Nand’ Bren will deal better with his neighbor without a distraction present. They have distressing matters to discuss.” Great-grandmother meant about Baiji-nadi being locked in the basement and them being shot at and almost killed. He could tell nand’ Geigi a thing or two about that, first-hand.

But probably that would be pert. That was his great-grandmother’s word for it, when he got beyond himself.

So his information was not welcome on the bus.

And there was nothingto do, at present, since they were all locked in the house, nothing that was really interesting, because he could not draw back the slingshota to its full stretch, not without risking ricochets that would hit nand’ Bren’s woodwork, which had already had enough damage from bullets.

So he grew bored with that, and even when he gave turns with the slingshota to his bodyguard, his aishid—they could get no real practice at it in such limited circumstances.

They all wanted to go out into the garden, where they could really let fly—but the doors were kept locked, even when there were village workmen repairing the portico out there (one could hear the hammering all morning.)

He so wanted to be on the bus. But he was forbidden even to meet the bus when it came back. Great-grandmother had thought of that, too, and had forbidden him before he could even think of it. “These two lords have serious business underway, almost certainly. You are not to meet the bus when it arrives. Dignitaries from the village will be arriving to meet Lord Geigi when he gets here and, mind, you are notto enter into an indecorous competition for attention on Lord Bren’s doorstep, young gentleman. You will make yourself politely invisible and do your homework.”

Gruesome. His current homework was court language verbs. Which was not too exciting.

But his father’s visit loomed large in recent memory and it was clear to him he was very lucky to be left here in nand’ Bren’s house, instead of being packed back to Shejidan and his tutor. Sitting in his father’s apartment while his Ajuri clan aunt was visiting and while his Atageini clan great-uncle was living just down the hall—that would be awful. Not to mention that his mother would be upset with him for the mischief he had been in, and if his Ajuri grandfather heard about the train and the boat, through his aunt, he would have his grandfatherfussing about his supervision and demanding more guards, too, possibly even demanding to install some of Ajuriclan with him, which was just too grim to think about. Even if he thought he and his aishid could get the better of anybody Ajuri clan had, it was just too many guards, and more guards just got harder and harder to deal with.

He understood his situation. He understood the threat hanging over him. He had to behave here, and learn his court verbs beyond any mistake, or he would be back in the Bujavid with grown-up guards at every corner.

So after a little while he grew entirely bored with the slingshota and the circumstances they had, and took his aishid back to their suite to think about what they coulddo in the house. Lucasi and Veijico being still new to his service, they were getting used to things, though they really wereGuild, unlike Antaro and Jegari. They were brother and sister like Antaro and Jegari, and everybody older said they were very goodc but.

There was always that butc with Lucasi and Veijico.

The butthat did not let them find out everything they wanted to from senior Guild.

Butc that made Cenedi look grim when he talked about them.

Butc that made Banichi and Jago sigh and talk together in very low voices.

If Lucasi and Veijico had been younger (they were felicitous nineteen and the year after) people would probably call them what they called him: precocious—which was a way of admiring somebody while calling him a pest. Precocious. Pert. Sometimes, even toward him, they were stuck-up; and they were far too inclined to tell Antaro and Jegari they were wrong about something, even about how they sat and how they stood at attention, even when Antaro and Jegari were not allowed to wear a Guild uniform yet. It was just a pest, their know-it-all manner, and it made him mad, but Antaro said, with a sigh, when he mentioned it: “We need to learn, nandi.”

It really was true: having two real Guild in his aishid meant Jegari and Antaro were learning things around the clock now, not just going out for a few hours to the Guild hall. Even he could see a change in how they stood and just the way their eyes tracked—which was probably really good. Jegari and Antaro seemed glad to talk about Guild stuff with Lucasi and Veijico, even if the newcomers weresnotty about it—snotty was one of Gene’s words, up on the ship, or the space station, now, where Gene lived; and it was a good word for those two. Snotty.

And full of themselves. That was another of Gene’s expressions.

The fact was, though, they were smart, they knew they were smart, and they were short of patience with other people, which was going to get them in trouble if they were not just very careful. He was just a year short of nine and hecould see it on the horizonc but not Veijico and Lucasi, oh, no, they were far too smart to take personal criticism from somebody who was infelicitous eight.

Well, heknew they were not smarter than Banichi and Jago and Cenedi, or Tano and Algini—and Cenedi and Algini in particular had no long patience with fools. Algini had been very high up in the Guild before he sort of retired from that job, and one could just see Algini’s eyes looking right at Lucasi’s back in a not-very-good way.

“We did not authorize them to ask!” he had almost blurted out on one occasion, when those two had repeated a request to which Banichi had said no. He had witnessed that second request, and Algini had looked mad. But they were his aishid, and he was responsible for anything they did, so he had only said, later, “You made Algini mad, nadiin-ji.”

“We report to your father, nandi,” Veijico had said quite smoothly and with a shrug. “Not to them.”

“You will not disrespect them!” he had shot back, very sharply, and that had backed them up just a bit. “And if you do it again, nadiin, Ishall report to my father!”

That had set them back for at least an hour.

The thing was, there was a fairly fine dividing line between precocious and foolc he knew that better than most, having crossed that line a few times and having had to hear Great-grandmother tell him where that line was in great detail, interspersed with: “Tell mewhere you made mistakes, boy. Go think!”

Maybe the Guild instructors had told Lucasi and Veijico that exact same thing a few times, too, but Lucasi and Veijico were never going to listen to Guild instructors the way he knew to listen to Great-grandmother—who had used to thump him on the same ear so often he swore it was larger than the other. Great-grandmother probably still made his fatherthink of ear-thumping: she was that fierce.

But clearly the Guild instructors had not set the proper fear in Lucasi and Veijico, and by the way they carried themselves, maybe they had lacked a great-grandmother, up in the high mountains, where they came from.

Maybe, he thought, he should maneuver those two afoul of his great-grandmother and sit back and watch the outcome. That would be interesting. But he was not sure he would ever get them back if they did. So he kept that in reserve.

And thus far he was managing things. At least today Lucasi and Veijico seemed to be showing a little improvement, and being much more polite to everybody all morning. So maybe his threat yesterday had worked. He hated being mad at people. It was like the business with the slingshota. Theywere so sure they would never miss that they thought they could shoot it in the garden hall, never mind the woodwork. Never mind Ramaso would scold them all and hewould get in trouble for it.

And never mind Lucasi had stolen five teacakes from the kitchen this morning, when they had no need to steal at all: Lucasi had rather steal because, he said, it kept him sharp—never mind that some servant might get in trouble for the miscount. It was not Lucasi’s habit, to think of things like that. Great-grandmother would thwack his ear for not thinking about it—if she knew it. But tattling to her was hardly grown-up.

He had a dilemma, was what. He had to make Lucasi and Veijico care.

More, he had to make Lucasi and Veijico care what hethought.

His father was very clever. His father was a great strategist and absolutely ruthless, which was what his father’s enemies said, even though his father was really good to people who deserved his good opinion. His father was so smooth that sometimes people had trouble telling which he was being at the moment—ruthless, or good.

He had thought, a few days ago, that his father had given him two very good guards, despite the suddenness of the surprise; and they were real Guild, and young, and he was going to like them just the way they were and everything was going to be splendid.

Not so easy.

It was like dealing with Great-grandmother. About the time one thought one had her figured out, Great-grandmother proved to be a few moves ahead. Dealing with his father was like that, more than anybody else he had ever met, and he thought about it, sitting in his little sitting-room at his desk, parsing his verbs, and watching Jegari and Antaro over in the corner with Lucasi and Veijico. Jegari and Antaro were listening, all respectful, to something Lucasi and Veijico were telling them—and he thought—

I was stupid when I thought I could ever bring somebody that smart in that fast. I was too nice.

These two are not easy to manage and they come with no ties to me the way Jegari and Antaro have. These two cheat. They lie. They sneak. And that would be all right, except—they disrespect me. They annoy me. One has to be smarter than they are to make them behave themselves, there is nokinship between us, and the fight has to go on all the time—because their man’chi is notto me nor to anybody in the whole midlands— maybe not to anybody up in their mountains, who knows?

It wouldbe easier if I were older. If I could impress them—I could get their man’chi. But they left home to join the Guild. So one supposes man’chi is no longer there. And right now they belong to nobody except maybe the Guild. They say they report to my father, but I doubt they really feel man’chi toward him, or the Guild, or anybody in the world, even their own clan, which is small—too small for theirambitions. One can see that. They have probably always had trouble.

Which was not to say they were bad. Or wrong.

They were just going to be work. A lotof work. Running them, he would need to be sharp all the time, or he could never trust those two to do what he said—until he got old enough and powerful enough to get their attention. His father probably thought if they were going to make a mistake they would make it so senior Guild saw it and fixed it, but that was not necessarily so. They were sneaky. And everybody in this house was busy. And there was something his father might not have seen: these two were upset, and maybe they thought they were being disrespected in being given to a child, even a child who was the aiji’s son and heir. They happened to be wrong to think that— he bet his father bet that he would duck out on them and give themtrouble the way he had always done.

But that kind of behavior was for guards that people set overhis aishid. Part ofhis aishid—that was something else, and it had stopped being fun, was what, because inside an aishid— there had to be trust. There had to be man’chi holding the whole thing together. And that was what he was notable to get out of these two.

He had escaped his tutor, escaped his lessons in the capital, and come out here to go on nand’ Bren’s boat and go fishing with Jegari and Antaro. Life was going to be easy and good and constant fun.

Now they had been shot at, the windows were all boarded up, both the boats were out of commission with repairs, and his father had sent him a gift to protect him, as if he was that same boy who had ducked out of the Bujavid to get away from that old fool of a tutor?

Hell, nand’ Bren would say. Bloody hell. And he could call those two over right now and tell them exactly what he was thinking, but they were too self-assured to take any shame of it.

And his father might thinkthose two were naturally in awe of the aiji of the whole aishidi’tat, and that they would follow his orders, if nobody else’sc but they were, in fact, just too smart to be impressed. They would absorb any warning the aiji’s son gave them and come out of it just the way he would, thinking he still could get the better of the situation and run things the way he wanted. They were more than twice his age and they had had a long time to get into bad habits. And they had every fault Great-grandmother said he had.

Which made him mad, because it meant maybe his father saw the same thing—

Was it possible? Would his father do that to him?

Things he was involved in were serious. Lucasi and Veijico thought they knew how serious and just how much they could get away with.

But he was Great-grandmother’s student, and nand’ Bren’s, and Banichi’s and Cenedi’s and Jago’s, and he was not going to be found at fault for their misbehaviors.

They thoughtthey had his father figured, and they could just run things in his household until hegrew up, and that they could get past Jegari and Antaro and be senior. On a second and third thought, probably everything had been fine with them until they had found out he was going to prefer two Guild trainees to them, and then they had gotten their backs up—gods, they mighteven have the notion of getting ridof Jegari and Antaro, if they were really ruthless.

And they were real Guild, and had no orders about thatc and no scruples.

That was a terrible, terrible thought.

He hadn’t thought it when, of course, he had told them how the household was to be ordered.

He had told them that back when he had made assumptions they would automatically have man’chi to himc

It was just not good, when he thought about things from the side of two very ruthless, very determined, almost-adult Guild.

Algini, who let very little slip, had given him a direct warning: They are not all good.

When Banichi and Jago and Cenedi had all been with him in deep space, Algini and Tano were the ones who had stayed on the space station. Algini in particular had helped reconstitute the Assassins’ Guild after the coup.

So Algini’s letting slip that one small expression was no casual remark. It was a very purposeful warning. Had he been asleep? He did not think Algini ever was.

So hehad to get control of his own aishid, fast, before somebody got hurt. He had given orders maybe his elders would not advise, and he had either to give up control of his own household to them—or get these two to change their ways.

Gods, mark it down to remember: annoy his father the way he had done and his father was eventually to reckon with. Had his father knownwhat might happen? Did he still predict it?

Did his father carewhether his son and heir could rely on his own household—when a mistake could get people killed?

His mother and father were having another baby, a safebaby they would bring up themselves, and who would not have been off in space with Great-grandmother and nand’ Bren, that was what. Succeed or not. Obey or not. Rule or not. Make these two obey—or not. There will bean alternative to you.

Damn it!

Lucasi and Veijico were homework, was what. They were capable of becoming a real major problem.

And he could solve it one way by asking Great-grandmother to take them away and put them in herguard. She would make an impression on them, and she was almost the only person who could—because Guild who had served high up in the aiji’s house could only go to a related aishid; or they had nowhereto go. And in the Guild—that could be fatal. Were Lucasi and Veijico thinking about thatat all when they acted so snotty with Antaro and Jegari?

Or with him?

He couldgo to Great-grandmother, and she would assign them tower duty in Malguri, which was about as far from talking to anybody as you could getc for the rest of their lives.

If they were as smart as they thought they were, they would be afraid of that eventuality. They would have figured out that if this assignment went bad, they would know too many house secrets to be let loose into someone else’s employ.

So Lucasi and Veijico were in a bit of a trap, whether or not they figured it out. He was ahead of them in that.

And he was not ready quite yet to go to his Great-grandmother, but he had thought out his alternatives. He scowled at them, thinking this, and they noticed, and pretended not to, and then he smiled at them with his father’s nastiest smile. They would ask each other, later, “What was that look about?” and they would probably not come up with the right answer.

Which proved that they were not quite as smart as they thought they were.

He had to impress them and get them to takeorders from Antaro and Jegari. That was the first thing on the menu. And he could notsit around playing with the slingshota and being told that he could notmeet the bus and could notfind out what the important business was between nand’ Bren and Lord Geigi. He had a rival. His father had warned him about that. And maybe his father had even thought he would go on playing games while things were happening that were serious, even after being warned. Maybe his parents had decided he was stupid.

He was not Baiji. Maybe if he were, having Lucasi and Veijico around would not matter at all and he could just sit back and let them run his life.

But he was notBaiji. And his father regarded him enough to challenge him, really challenge him. That was an encouraging idea.

So he got up, he had Jegari go get his better shirt and best coat, and Antaro help him with his pigtail and ribbon, to look absolutely his best.

He was, first of all, going to go call on Great-grandmother, because he was sure Lord Geigi and Lord Bren would both be talking to Great-grandmother among the very first things they did, and if he were there when they came back, and in very good graces because he showed up looking like a gentleman, he might be able to stay with Great-grandmother once the bus arrived. And it shouldbe coming soon. The airport was about a quarter of an hour past the train station: he had heard staff say that.

And he would have Jegari and Antaro for a presence inside mani’s suite so theywould get the information first-hand. Even better, all the information Lucasi and Veijico could get would have to be second-hand, from them. Which served them exactly right.

So when he had dressed, he found a moment to pass close to them, and said:

“You should stay here, or in the library with Tano and Algini, if they permit. What Lord Geigi says when he gets here will be important. And his presence here will upset the Marid. So possibly they will attack us again. But attacking my great-grandmother is not a good idea. So learn from what you hear.”

“Nandi,” Lucasi said, with a little bow of his head. They looked just a little put off—maybe because they had not had outstanding success getting to sit in the security station with Tano and Algini.

Too bad for them.

He left his apartment, then, and went just next door, to Great-grandmother’s suite, and knocked. Nawari opened the door. That was good. Cenedi was there, behind him. And that was not.

He bowed. “Is mani receiving, nadi-ji?” he asked, in best form.

“Perhaps soon, young sir,” Nawari said.

He had made his move a little early then. Damn. Very damn.

But then Cenedi said, with unexpected generosity: “You might come in and wait in the sitting room, should you wish, young lord. Is there some particular business?”

It was the immaculate clothes and proper form. It had to be. He straightened his shoulders.

“Nothing in particular,” he said to Cenedi. “One came to be very quiet, and to learn. We are not to meet the bus and we are not to interfere with nand’ Bren and nand’ Geigi. But surely we can be very quiet and listen.”

Cenedi looked him up and down, looked at Antaro and Jegari—and showed him right in.

Maybe it was the fact Lucasi and Veijico were notwith them. Was thatnot a thought?

He set himself in the lesser chair by the fireplace, and Jegari and Antaro properly positioned themselves, standing, along the wall.

So! They were in. And he would be particularly on his best behavior when Great-grandmother laid eyes on him— absolutely proper. Great-grandmother would be sure, just the same as Cenedi and Nawari, that he was bursting with curiosity, and that sometimes annoyed her. But that was not all that it was. He had very serious matters to deal with, himself, and no one had figured that out and told him what to do.

Or had he figured out Great-grandmother’s riddle? He was not supposed to meet the bus. He was not supposed to be outside.

But he was admitted here, in his proper best clothes, to hear things the lords said.

Just getting here had been—his father’s lately favorite word— educational.

6

« ^ »

The bus pulled up under the portico and made a quiet stop— its soft, powerful sigh very much more impressive than their thirty-year-old estate bus, which had always come in gasping and squealing. And the staff did Najida proud: they turned out in their party best to welcome Najida’s long-absent neighbor.

But not just staff had come in, Bren saw as he descended, with Banichi and Jago, and with Geigi’s two senior guards. Clearly defying the risks of travel in the district, a whole truckload of festively dressed Edi people had arrived up from the village, all resplendent in their bright colors, pouring in to wonder at the bus andto welcome Lord Geigi, who was their lord and longtime protector. In Edi eyes, things were surely looking up, and power lately had descended on Najida—in the form of the aiji’s visit, the aiji-dowager’s residence, the local victory over the Marid intruders, the fall of the detested Baiji, and now the return of the Lord of Sarini Province from orbit. Geigi descended the steps to a great deal of applause.

Geigi looked about him, at that, and indeed, despite the grey hairs, not much changed from the Geigi who had left all those years ago. Geigi’s two-man guard had moved in to be close to him: that was of course as it should be.

But one absence was remarkable.

Cajeiri was not outside to meet them. Thatwas downright worrisome.

“One does not see the young gentleman, nadiin-ji,” he remarked to Banichi and Jago, while waving to the assembled onlookers and smiling.

“The young gentleman has set up to be with his great-grandmother,” Jago said—his aishid was in contact with each other short-range, information likely pouring back and forth. “He has assigned his two new guards to be with Tano and Algini. Antaro and Jegari are with him.”

“Well,” Bren said in some surprise. The young gentleman declined a noisy, exciting event in order to be strategically positioned and in on everything important. Therewas a little advanced thinking, when the boy of not too many months ago had achieved strategic thinking only in his lulls between motion.

“Indeed,” Jago said dryly, clearly in the same train of thought.

Ramaso stood to the fore of the staff, and Geigi made clear to him he would say a few words. Ramaso held up his hands, and a silence descended on the happy gathering, starting with house staff and extending to the visiting Edi.

“My welcome here at Najida,” Geigi said, looking about him, “is a great comfort to the distress of Kajiminda. So many things remain to be done, but with the help of good neighbors I shall do them in short order. I have heard the aiji-dowager’s proposal and shall be hearing more details. I shall be sending to Maschi clan and consulting with them, with the aiji-dowager, with my neighbors, and certainly with the people of Kajiminda, a meeting one most earnestly desires at the earliest. One hopes to meet with the Grandmother of Najida: one hopes to do that tomorrow, if at all possible. Only bear with me today: I have had a long journey, however rapid, and I am still catching my breath. But tomorrow I shall get down to business, with the kindness of my neighbors. One hopes to do the best possible for Kajiminda and to restore the good relationships Kajiminda has always enjoyed with Najida. Thank you very much for your welcome. One thanks you with all depth of feeling.”

He gave a little bow to the crowd, and Bren bowed in gratitude, too, before he directed Geigi inside, into the quiet and shadow of the inner halls.

“Be welcome,” he said, the formula. “Geigi-ji.”

“One is dazed, Bren-ji, simply dazed. One thinks of things on the planet proceeding slowly, but the changes I see have been astonishing.”

“Not all to the good, one fears. We have been very fortunate in the aiji-dowager’s presence. One cannot estimate what might have happened here at Najida were it not for the reinforcement her visit entailed. Our enemy’s plans would have been quite adequate to have disposed of either or both of us—without her fortunate intervention. Is the dowager ready for us, nadiin-ji?” he asked his bodyguard, and Banichi nodded in the affirmative. “Then we shall go to her for a start. Have you need of anything, Geigi-ji?”

“We are perfectly prepared,” Geigi answered him.

“Excellent,” he said, and Banichi and Jago led the way to the dowager’s door and knocked. Cenedi, no great surprise, opened it for them.

“The dowager is expecting you, nandiin-ji,” Cenedi said, and that often-sober face lighted with an honest smile for Geigi. “Welcome, nandi.”

“Indeed, indeed, Cenedi-ji,” Geigi said. “You know my senior guard: Haiji and Cajami.”

“One knows and welcomes them,” Cenedi said, and made room for them to pass, all of them, inside.

Which was a fair complement of Guild, besides Antaro and Jegari, who stood quietly in the far corner.

The dowager had the fire going in the fireplace, and had her chair there. Cajeiri sat with her, and got up immediately to bow and offer his hand to his great-grandmother, in lieu of her cane, since she elected to stand to meet an old ally—an honor she paid to very few.

She took her cane in hand to walk forward to midroom to meet them, stopped there, leaning on the cane, nodded deeply and said, “One is pleased to see you, Geigi-ji. How are the legs?”

“Oh, holding me up, ’Sidi-ji. They are, still. But the far horizons all are flat! It is so strangely disconcerting.”

“One is sure your eye will adjust in a day or two,” she said. “Come, sit with us. Will you take tea?”

The dowager became the hostess in whatever house she lodged, a matter of rank and custom, and Bren needed not even signal his own staff—Ramaso had come into the room, and Ramaso had quite naturally anticipated the order. They had scarcely found their seats near the fire—Cajeiri moved to the farthest, to make room for Geigi next to his great-grandmother— when the servants came in bearing enough tea for the purpose.

The talk then was all of the journey, the rush to make space on the shuttle—several commercial loads would be a week late, and probably all that the human companies knew of reasons was that the highest-ranking atevi lord had taken a yen to visit his estate, with no hint of the urgency involved. Secrecy had been invoked, and the four captains on the station were in Geigi’s confidence, but the information did not go much lower than that.

“One wishes it truly were a whim that brings this visit,” Geigi said over their second round of tea. “One wishes, indeed, that I had made this visit while my sister was still alive.”

“One cannot mend the past,” Ilisidi said sternly. “And you never got along with her, Geigi-ji. Remember it accurately.”

“Well, true, true, ’Sidi-ji, we fought. And a good part of our disagreement was her perpetual doting on that boy. One knew, one knew when news came that she had died, that the estate would be in trouble, but there was nothing I could do from the station. If I had used the very first opportunity after the shuttles were flying again to come down here—”

“That graceless brat’s associates would have assassinated you on your very doorstep,” the dowager said bluntly, “as they likely assassinated your sister, one regrets to say. We do not at all wish you had come down here before now. What we doregret, in the general scarcity of good intelligence—that scoundrel Murini having utterly disrupted the Guild’s networks—is that my own information was just as lacking as my grandson’s. Cenedi.”

“Nandi?” Cenedi answered.

“You have taken an unacceptable blame for the paidhi’s situation and my great-grandson’s near calamity—when the fault lies in the Guild itself, in its concentration on the central clans since the Troubles. Thatis how our very competent security received bad information. ‘Is the district quiet?’ One is certain my Cenedi asked that question of Guild headquarters, as he would ask of any district. And what answer did you get, Nedi-ji?”

A slight bow of Cenedi’s head. “That there was no hint of trouble in the district, aiji-ma.”

“And when Banichi asked?”

“The same,” Banichi answered, with the same slight bow, “aiji-ma.”

“And when weasked my grandson’s office if there was a difficulty regarding Kajiminda?”

“The same,” Cenedi said.

“So,” Ilisidi said definitively. “You see the state of affairs. Do not take the word of either the Guild ormy grandson’s office.” Click went the dowager’s teacup onto the marble side table. “Well, indeed. There is blame to go around including to my grandson, who went off to Taiben while the Kadagidi were plotting their coup in the first place: it saved his life, however, and Damiri-daja’s. Baji-naji, we in this room are all alive when our enemies wish us dead. That is a cheerful point, is it not?”

“Indubitably,” Geigi said firmly.

“So, well, Geigi-ji, and in consequence, we are holding your nephew, to whom we refuse any title or courtesy. We reserve all such titles and honors for you, whom we greatly esteem. And we damn him to our great displeasure. Weare settled on the fate of Kajiminda, understand. And on the fate of your nephew. Will you hear it?”

“We shall certainly hear it, aiji-ma.”

“You yourself, esteemed ally, will be of greatest use where you have been. And we should not reward you for your service by settling Kajiminda estate on any other person, and we will not support such a notion should it ever be made. Kajiminda should remain in Maschi hands, tied to the aishidi’tat. The treaty is valuable, particularly now. You will, however, cede the seaward end of the peninsula to your Edi neighbors, as I shall ask the same of Najida.”

“Readily, aiji-ma,” Bren said. “One anticipated such a request.”

“The same, yes,” Geigi said, “but I am getting older, and with this disaster, I have no successor, aiji-ma. You know my disposition. Even in my own clan—”

An impatient tap of the cane. “Oh, pish, with that boy, you hadno successor! And we shall find you better prospects. What is old and tested under adversity should not be yielded up to a momentary situation. Ourdisposition of your misbehaving nephew is direct to that point. His marrying began this crisis. His marrying can settle it. Wehave a girl in mind, a strong-minded Easterngirl, of a family weapprove. Ardija clan.”

“Ardija,” Geigi echoed in some surprise. Bren had not heard the name in that context either. Ardija was a neighbor of the dowager’s own Malguri holdings, a tiny clan, but one with historic ties to the dowager’s line.

“We know the young lady well, a strong-minded young woman, well-bred and intelligent. The East would be salutary for your nephew and keep him out of trouble until there is a child. After that contract produces a child, we care little where he lives, so long as Ardija clan has the upbringing of the offspring, who may spend some time under your tutelage on the station or at Kajiminda when he—or she—reaches an appropriate age. Maschi clan will get its heir out of a politically advantageous line.”

Geigi listened through all of this and finally drew a deep breath. “You have spent considerable thought on this, ’Sidi-ji. Your solution, an Eastern tie, will shake Maschi clan to the roots.”

“Do not be modest. It will shake the aishidi’tat itself, linking the west coast with the East. Your Maschi clan has occupied a delicate position, poised between the Marid and the west coast. They were dutiful enough, and they have paid all courtesies to my grandson on his resumption of power. But we have remarked their curious silence regarding your nephew’s flirtation with the Marid. Not a word of warning came from them—and we assume they were surely not ignorant of the situation. Or should not have been.”

“This has indeed crossed my mind, aiji-ma.”

“Then we agree on that suspicion.”

“One cannot say with any certainty. I have no current knowledge of my own clan, embarrassing as it is to say so. First my long absence, then the year without communication with the world at all, and all the changes sincec”

“Do not apologize. It was incumbent on themto approach you. Let them feel the weight of your hand, Geigi-ji. We greatly suspect the quality of their leadership and we suspect the head of Maschi clan of doing much what your nephew has done, neither joining the Marid in its schemes nor reporting them to my grandson. If you wish to know the realfault that allowed your scoundrel of a nephew to continue his flirtations with the Marid, look to the failure of Pairuti of Maschi clan to be forthcoming to my grandson.”

Thatwas news. So communication in the southwest had broken down in a major way. The old web of information had not totally reintegrated after Tabini’s return to power. That was a fact. Maschi clan leadership sat poised between the Marid and the coast, supposedly communicating with the capital. And had Tabini been getting noalarms from them?

A thump of the cane on the floor punctuated the dowager’s assessment. “The aishidi’tat has neversolved its problems in this district. Your leadership, Geigi-ji, your personal efforts, brought peace and laid the foundations for an association on this coast. And the world may have urgently needed your talents on the station, where you have done remarkable things for us all; but with your departure to that effort—a keystone fell out of the association here. Your own clan has grown weak, at best, and we fear, at worst, quite as much as your nephew, Maschi clan has been playing both sides of the recent civil disturbance.”

My God, Bren thought, and two and three pieces of the situation clicked into place. Not just the nephew. The clanseatc poised physically between Kajiminda and Marid territory.

“One is appalled,” Geigi said somberly. “Their communications to me have been routine.”

“So have their communications to my grandson in the capital. It does not say those communications have been truthful.”

“Aiji-ma!”

“Pish, Geigi-ji. Where is ’Sidi-ji?”

“ ’Sidi-ji, forgive me. But one is—appalled, entirely. Thunderstruck. Embarrassed, extremely. Pairuti—before the Troubles, he was a dull fellow. He collected sisuifigures. That is absolutely the only distinction he had. He kept meticulous books. He—”

“—is absolutely dutiful in attending court sessions, for both Murini andmy grandson, of course. Whoever has been in power, yes, Pairuti has been obedient and attended court. But his proximity to the Marid during such uneasy times has required more talents than collecting porcelain miniatures. And what troubles me, Geigi-ji, is that he has notdistinguished himself lately in providing information. Cenedi-ji?”

Cenedi said, “Nandiin, a query to Shejidan has notproduced any but routine, formal communications of a mundane nature from Lord Pairuti to the aiji since his return. Guild communications are equally sterile, reporting everything in the district tranquil, and the district prosperous throughout. There is nofluctuation in the provincial tax records, be it Murini or Tabini-aiji in Shejidan.”

“One would expect something more of disturbance,” Ilisidi said in a low voice. “Considering the situation in this district of the province, which wehave turned up inside only a few days’ residence, its mundane character becomes entirely damning.”

“Gods,” Geigi said. Geigi, the Rational Determinist, who relied on reason. “Gods. I know the tone of his letters, up and down. Pairuti discusses his acquisitions. His figurines. He offers his felicitations on whatever good fortune has attended, his sorrow for any ill—of course his willingness to be of service, when he is so remote he knows he will never be called upon in the least. I have dealt with him for years. He is the most boring man in the aishidi’tat.”

“He surely called you on the station, once my grandson returned to power.”

“He did. He did. Never an indication of Marid pressure on Sarini Province, no hint of the nest of Marid lurking in Separti. He offered condolences for my sister’s death—he promised to look in on my nephew. I took it in the way of every promise from him, something one means very well, but one never intends to get around toc unless he should extend his travel a little on his way to the airport, for winter court. And one was all but certain he never would actually do it. Those are my correspondences with Pairuti. But his people thrive. He has been a decent administrator. His extravagances are all for his collections.”

“And he has written faithfully to Tabini-aiji,” Cenedi said. “Nothing suspicious at all—except weknow situations in thisdistrict that the lord of the Maschi should have known.”

“The Edi did not inform him,” Banichi said, “that we know. But he did not inform himself of the situation at Kajiminda and at Separti and Dalaigi? With whom is the man trading?”

“With whom, indeed?” Ilisidi muttered. “Is this the pattern of a man who keeps good books and succeeds in the markets? He was atwinter court, making excuses for your nephew, Geigi-ji. He was either ignorant, or complicitous in the situation here, nandi, forgive my bluntness.”

Damn, Bren said to himself. He hated surprises. And surelythe lord of Maschi clan had not been under suspicion when he came here: he could not—

Not until the paidhi-aiji encountered the local situation and stirred up a nest of trouble, which, in turn, proved the aiji’s information had been lacking.

The dowager had applied directly to Shejidan for her information, been told wrong in a way that had nearly gotten them all killed, and now had narrowed down the logical source of misinformation inside the province.

Damned right the dowager had had her staff asking questions, direct ones, ever since Tabini’s visit yesterday, when staff had met staff and information had passed—to her people, and to his. In Banichi’s eye he caught an indefinable glint of expression. Banichi hadbeen on it, or at least Tano and Algini, left behind today, had been briefing themselves.

“One had no idea,” he murmured to Geigi, chagrined, “or one surely would have said something of it on the bus. I would personally have trustedPairuti.”

“So would we all,” Ilisidi said grimly. “So didwe all, until it came clear to us that if my grandson lacked facts, it might not be that he has failed to gather information from Sarini Provincec but that those who should be advising him—have directly lied.”

“One still—” Geigi said. “One still cannot entirely concludec” A breath. “Did you come here suspecting this?”

“We did not.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “We shall cease to amaze you, nand’ paidhi. We sent to Shejidan last night, in the dark hours. We called our household staff at that unsavory time of night. We asked certain questions, and this morning while you, nand’ paidhi, were otherwise occupied with estate business, my staff in Shejidan was busy phoning certain offices and locating records. While you were at the airport, your staff and mine received their report, a complete lackof extraordinary information in the court record of missives from Lord Pairuti. He reports the sad death of your sister, Geigi-ji, and the accession of your nephew, to whom he says he has written offering assistance. He reports everything quiet in the province, and reports, at court, the restoration of trade. He provides exquisitely balanced books for the whole district. Nothing is the matter. Which is exactly the thought that interrupted our sleep last night. The prospect that someone of Maschi clan might call on us in Lord Geigi’s sojourn here, or worse, with our Lord Geigi understaffed at Kajiminda, suddenly occurred to us, hencemy calls to Shejidan, which I assure you were deeply coded. We used the night hours and this morning to ask a range of unpleasant questions—and to notify my grandson, who— ifhe had asked such questions immediately instead of assuming the vector of attack on us had been entirely southerly, out of Separti Township—would have turned this up. As it is, he has deployed his forces southward. The Marid infestation south of here may be a mere decoration. A deliberate distraction.” A waggle of the fingers. “Of course we could be wrong. But we rarely are.”

“One is appalled,” Bren said. “One is utterly appalled, aiji-ma.”

“Ha. So you agree.” The ancient eyes that had seen a good deal of treachery in a lifetime sparked fire. “And we shall not sit here inert.”

“ ’Sidi-ji,” Geigi said. “ ’Sidi-ji. What can one say to this?”

“That you will take action, Geigi-ji. That you have been a long time removed from this arena, and your presence here as lord of Sarini Province can only be salutary.”