Resurgence

by C. J. Cherryh

  “He is growing up,” Ilisidi said, “and his first aishid is very young, and scanted their training, being pulled directly into duty. One has no quarrel with the appointment of a second unit. We were at least consulted in that.” A sip of brandy. “We were not consulted, however, in other matters. And he is not now traveling alone.”

  There was a sting in that.

  “Nor was I consulted, aiji-ma, though I believe Banichi was consulted before we left. I am informed of the troublesome association, this cousin. It is the sequence of events that I have missed.”

  “Regarding the vacancy in Ajuri, Lord Tatiseigi made a white nomination,” Ilisidi said, “on which we had had conversation and agreement. You understand the term—a nomination intended to fail, and to give the question time to cool down in the legislature while it wended its way through channels. A procedural delay. Tatiseigi went to his estate to ignore the inevitable chatter and to be out of convenient reach for phone calls and social invitations—as we went to Malguri, not to be seen as embroiling the East in midlands politics. It seemed wise at the time, to let the midlands take care of the midlands. And my grandson insists he had no inkling that there would be a problem. He sent my great-grandson to Tatiseigi for a holiday, and to end any speculation that there had been any rancor in his veto of Tatiseigi’s nomination.”

  Sip of brandy. Bren waited. And Ilisidi reprised:

  “We did not, however, foresee that an Ajuri-clan rail worker with a sizeable following would come looking to have Tatiseigi nominate him to the lordship. We did not know at the time that Geidaro, detestable woman, would be so stupid as to show up in Tirnamardi and demand Tatiseigi do this or that at her bidding, with my great-grandson in residence. She was clearly there to find out what she could, and arrogant enough to think Tatiseigi would give way to an implied threat. Her advisors might not have told her Cajeiri was there, but common sense should have told her, when she arrived and found him there, that she had entered upon dangerous ground, and should leave, if she had had half good sense.”

  Cajeiri’s great-aunt had not been welcome in Tirnamardi on her best day.

  “Tatiseigi knew one thing,” Ilisidi said, “that his approving this Ajuri claimant would agitate her beyond good sense, and whether or not he meant to follow through with a nomination, he ejected that woman and extended hospitality to this claimant. We heard. We were alarmed. Tatiseigi does have a temper, and she had pushed him past limits. We immediately made arrangements to intervene—but the aiji-consort, who has never made a political move since her marriage, ordered the Red Train, gathered up my infant great-granddaughter—yes, we do claim her—and took that innocent babe to the heart of an impending three-clan war. Oh, yes, Taiben was in it. And very likely a remnant of Shishogi’s operations was immediately involved on the Ajuri side. Mecheiti were loosed, Tatiseigi and one of my great-grandson’s aishid were injured, property was damaged, lives were threatened, and your bus, which the aiji-consort had likewise set at her disposal, was damaged. Tatiseigi Filed Intent on Geidaro, and the Guild accepted the Filing, considering the risk she had presented to my great-grandson, and within hours, Geidaro was dead, but she was not killed under that Filing.”

  Disturbing news, amid general disaster. “She surely did not lack enemies within Ajuri itself who might be passionate enough to do it.”

  “This was not an act of passion, but of precision and stealth. Someone entered her office in Ajiden and did the deed quite professionally before Guild assigned to the matter had arrived. The perpetrators then set fire to the house, possibly to cover their escape, more likely with the intent to destroy records. House staff controlled the fire before any major damage was done. Theories vary between an Ajuri with a grudge, and Shadow Guild fearing what names she might release, and we support the latter theory. The Guild is now in control of Ajiden and is making a top to bottom search of the premises. This proposed legitimate lord, Nomari, is out of Nichono’s line.”

  “Out of the Kadagidi,” Bren said quietly and with his own misgivings.

  Ilisidi’s left brow lifted. “Your knowledge is accurate. There is a Kadagidi strain in that branch of Ajuri clan. And that particular Kadagidi line is related to the Dojisigin Marid—therefore distantly related up the ladder and down again, to Murini.”

  Murini the usurper, who had murdered Tabini’s servants and bodyguard and driven Tabini and Damiri into hiding in hedgerows for a time. They were rid of Murini and his regime. But the politics, including the Shadow Guild, despite the fall of Ajuri, was not dead enough.

  “Shishogi may well have killed the parents and brother of this young claimant,” Ilisidi said. “I have no difficulty believing that. Shishogi had a great deal to do with deaths inside Ajuri, and he was picking and choosing the lords he would support. Nichono’s heirs did die, and not of natural causes. What remains to ask is why they became Shishogi’s target.”

  Whether the parents and brother were playing a hand of their own—or were refusing to do Shishogi’s bidding—was indeed a question—considering the survivor of the family had gained access to Tatiseigi’s house and to Cajeiri and Damiri, and had blood ties both to the Kadagidi in the midlands, and, down south in the Marid, to the Dojisigi, who had backed Murini’s coup. It was worrisome.

  “This Nomari may detest the Shadow Guild with great passion,” Ilisidi said, “but his aims in his own claim on Ajuri are not clear, nor has he thus far offered any proof of his identity that I am willing to accept. Yet. Followers, yes, he has them. But who knows on what proof? And if he is who he claims to be, there is that connection to the Marid, of which we are both advised. This person is, at this moment, nestled very close to my great-grandson and great-granddaughter, and to Tatiseigi. The aiji-consort says he does know particular things that might prove his identity, memories from childhood. We are more reserved in this matter, especially where it regards handing over a province. We do not rush to extend courtesies to this person.—And did I mention that Damiri has given Seimiro to Lord Tatiseigi? Figuratively speaking, of course. The next lord of the Atageini will be brought up and instructed by Damiri daughter of Komaji, and she alone has made this decision.”

  God, that was a blunt description. Komaji, lord of Ajuri, Damiri’s father, had been banned from court after a press to have unsupervised access to Cajeiri had roused Tabini’s mistrust—not least because Komaji had kidnapped Damiri herself shortly after her birth, and kept her from her Atageini relatives, including Tatiseigi, for years. One could never say Komaji himself had had any such designs on Cajeiri, but Tabini had suddenly bidden Komaji leave Shejidan, go back to Ajuri, and stay there.

  Then Komaji himself had been assassinated, like every other lord of Ajuri—Komaji had allegedly been trying to reach Tatiseigi at the time, possibly to tell things the Shadow Guild had not wanted told, possibly to try to mend relations with Tabini. But no one knew that for certain.

  It was a tangled, tangled family. The Kadagidi, the clan bordering Tatiseigi’s holdings on the other side of the map, to the east, had supported Murini, had supported Shishogi, and there had been contract marriages and offspring back and forth involving all three clans, Ajuri, Atageini, and Kadagidi. Kadagidi was now likewise in Guild hands, the clan itself under Guild management and possibly facing forced division. Tabini had yet to propose it to the legislature, but it remained a possibility.

  Now Ajuri, the clan primarily at fault, might be pulling itself back from the brink.

  And finally, after all the murders and schemes—Ajuri was to be closely allied to Tatisiegi’s Atageini clan, over which Cajeiri’s infant sister was someday to be lord.

  Could he have gone over to Mospheira to mitigate the political shocks after events in the heavens and not expected similar upheaval on the mainland? But—God, they had been busy!

  His absence alone could have triggered certain moves—if he flattered himself. But, too, events on Mospheira among humans also upset some atevi
interests, and while his making the aiji’s voice heard over on that side of the water was a stabilizing move in general, it could agitate certain interests on both sides of the water. The refugees Mospheira was taking in had never in their lives stood on a planet—human, yes, but not Mospheiran, with no common history, no cultural context except a long ago quarrel between their ancestors. Tabini-aiji had agreed to break with all precedent and let humans land on the mainland, granted the arrivals were quickly shipped across the strait—humans landing on atevi soil was controversial. Tabini had also agreed to let the station clear passenger space on the shuttles by parachuting heavy cargo onto atevi hunting lands—more shipping to Mospheira, which was already at an all-time high—and more contact of individuals involved.

  Separation of humans and atevi was mandated by the Treaty of the Landing.

  That fundamental principle was coming apart in places, and three human children had been in the atevi court to witness Cajeiri’s investiture as Tabini’s heir, a situation which was not going to please the Conservatives.

  So was it a surprise that, while he was across the strait trying to assure that human affairs did not veer out of control after the recent scare aloft, there had been a political power struggle on this side of the strait—not because of his presence or lack thereof, but because diametrically opposed groups, human and atevi, were set off by the same trigger?

  “Traditionally,” Ilisidi said, “the lords and representatives of the midlands clans have been mainstays of the Conservative caucus. Ajuri’s betrayal of the Atageini fractured that structure—possibly in collusion with the Kadagidi, possibly aiming to move against them—this, when Damiri was born. I stepped in at that time, lest we lose Atageini. I made alliance with the Atageini. Lord Tatiseigi’s concerns for tradition, the wild lands, and the continued prominence of the midlands all accorded with my opinions and my own purposes. I am Eastern. I view western politics more objectively. The cohesion of the aishidi’tat needs midlands conservatism to balance my grandson’s passion for human technology. Tatiseigi had wanted the Ajuri alliance very badly—hence Damiri’s existence. But she has swung back and forth between Ajuri and Atageini man’chi so often I would not, for your ears only, paidhi, call her stable, even now. She has never reckoned the effects of her flitting to this side or the other. Lifelong, she has viewed herself as a pawn, at best a secondary player. She is correct not to seek a lordship. And will she now train a successor to Lord Tatiseigi?”

  Blunt and exact. Bren sat warming his moderate serving of brandy, mostly untouched. “Aiji-ma, I am valueless if I do not answer such a question with a perhaps impertinent third question.”

  “Ask it.”

  “Do you think it wise to take another child from Damiri-daja? And would not nand’ Cajeiri experience some distress at it?”

  “That is two questions, paidhi.”

  “I think, aiji-ma, perhaps because I am not ateva, that it is actually one.”

  Ilisidi was not accustomed to be questioned at all. Even by Tabini-aiji, who might swear at her and shout, but stop her? Not easily. But she had posed him a question. He had to believe it was a question.

  Ilisidi heaved a sigh. “It is an infelicitous duality of questions, with only one solution, which is to hope Cajeiri will shape his sister, as I have, to a great extent, shaped him.”

  “That you have, aiji-ma. As you brought up his father, who will also shape this child. And I see hope in this solution. Lord Tatiseigi with an heir is much stronger. His rivals will have to rethink their moves. They cannot now hope for a battle over his succession. And can you think your great-grandson will not influence his sister? Or that your grandson will not?”

  “So.” Ilisidi moved her fingers and the servant poured more brandy for both sides. “You do see our situation, paidhi. We are poised on the edge of major changes. A solution for the midlands is desirable, but let us not be blind as to the nature of the participants. Ajuri has been a primary source of trouble for centuries, and it has deeply scarred its own children by murder and betrayal. I strongly opposed my grandson’s marriage to Damiri. I never trusted Komaji alive or dead, nor has Tatiseigi, considering the very strong possibility that Komaji murdered Damiri’s mother, or at very least delivered her to those who did. I was not surprised to learn Shishogi’s character, and I have known Geidaro far too well and too long to believe anything she might say. Her death is the bright flower in this arrangement. I do not know what sort of blossom this Nomari may become, once he breaks free and is confirmed, if he is confirmed. And I fear too great a haste in that process and too much pressure from people who are not looking closely at the details. Most of my fellow Conservatives are beside themselves with anticipation that the Ajuri vacancy will be filled, so that they will have one more vote on their side. They will be positively slavering after the Kadagidi replacement, now, and we should not have haste driving that one, either. This Nomari has flung himself at Tatiseigi—justifiable, given the Ajuri lordship had been put in play by the Conservatives’ drive to fill that seat. And that he may have sought safety during the Troubles in a region that, its other actions aside, resisted the Shadow Guild, is not in itself a stupid move. But let us not hasten to commit ourselves or approve.”

  He parsed that for what it was worth—Ajuri’s long history of intrigue, murder, and its creation of the Shadow Guild had all worked for years to support the radical end of the conservative spectrum, an unsavory minority within the Conservatives which had repeatedly thrown up roadblocks to Tabini’s dealings with Mospheira, and particularly to the space program. The prospective appointment of someone of Nichono’s tangled line to the lordship of Ajuri sent a long, troublesome thread of connection next door, to the Kadagidi, the clan on Tatiseigi’s other border. Kadagidi and Ajuri had recently conspired to take down the aijinate. Some of the Shadow Guild to this day held out in the south, in the northern Marid, where distrust of the north and opposition to Tabini had long simmered along in local politics. Some individual agents might still exist in the north as well: Shishogi had spent decades moving his players about the map like chesspieces, to lie dormant until useful, and such might remain a problem almost anywhere. Nomari’s prior connection to the Marid did raise questions. Vital questions. But—

  “One so hoped to have buried the Shadow Guild,” he said. “I take your warning, aiji-ma. I shall trust very carefully. And I am relatively sure I shall be asked.”

  “We rely on it,” Ilisidi said, and took a large sip of brandy. “Now—”

  She was about to say something, doubtless important. But Guild stirred from their ordinary quiet at the edge of the conversation. Cenedi and Banichi both moved, each to his charge.

  “Bren-ji,” Banichi said in the faintest of whispers. “Lord Machigi is approaching Najida. He is asking a hearing.”

  It was pitch dark outside. And Machigi—Lord of the Taisigin Marid, longtime enemy of the district, wanted a conference with him, who might or might not have been on the premises yet?

  Or was it a conference with the aiji-dowager, who was not supposed to be here in the first place?

  The lift of Ilisidi’s brow as Cenedi delivered the same news, the glance in Bren’s direction—seemed a question.

  “I have not invited him, aiji-ma. I have kept my own schedule as quiet as possible.”

  “If he is asking a meeting with me,” Ilisidi said, “it is beyond irregular, and we shall have a close look at Bujavid security, if they have let slip our movements. We took off for the East, at some inconvenience, before turning for the west coast. But we shall see, shall we not, what motivates this disturbance?”

  Considering the situation in the north, there was reason for Machigi to approach him, even not knowing the dowager was here. He had negotiated with Machigi in the Marid. He had set up Machigi’s contact with the dowager.

  But did Machigi now have cause to come here? Machigi was an old enemy of the west coast . . . indeed
, a potential enemy to the whole aishidi’tat, if the agreement with the dowager broke down.

  The Guild guarding Ilisidi was going on high alert, that was certain. Likely the information was already escalating to Guild headquarters in Shejidan, and wherever else that network felt it should go.

  To Tabini himself, likely: Tabini’s own after-dinner brandy was about to be interrupted.

  It was quite possibly Ilisidi whom Machigi had come to see. She had been here two days, and there might have been spies positioned at a distance, to watch for signs of activity at the house. Quiet espionage on staff was how the lords of this and that managed to believe in each other’s honesty. But infiltrate a mostly-Edi staff, ethnic and ancient enemies of the Marid?

  That was far less likely.

  Bren caught Banichi’s eye, and exchanged a glance, nothing blithe about it.

  But there was that estate truck, and that massive crate that sat out in the drive. Sign enough, if someone were watching. He had not been quiet enough in his arrival.

  3

  The train moved—finally—and Cajeiri settled into the table group he much preferred, with his younger aishid. It was well into the night, too late for tea. Mother and Uncle were sharing a glass of wine back at the rear of the Red Car. He and his aishid and all the rest shared fruit juice—none of the Guild of whatever age would touch alcohol on duty, and they were definitely on duty. Cousin Nomari coming to the capital to meet Father was going to upset some people.

  The Red Train was usually only one passenger car and one baggage car, but they had brought out two passenger cars, what with Mother’s staff and Mother’s guard and Uncle’s staff and Uncle’s bodyguard, and Cajeiri’s own bodyguard—Eisi and Liedi were, as usual, not riding with them. They were in the baggage car keeping Boji calm and content with a supply of eggs, and he was beginning to be embarrassed about that situation. His servants, grown men of some dignity, should not have to ride in a baggage car.