Betrayer: Foreigner #12

by C. J. Cherryh

“Would you be so good as to inform us, nadi?”

  “One hears there is a Guild action in Tanaja,” the man said.

  “There are five of us here, two children. This is our livelihood, nandi.”

  Bren bowed. “My aishid operates under strictest Guild rules, nadi. Be assured you will have compensation. We need fuel. Is there a key for the office? We need the radio.”

  “We have no keys here. The door is unlocked.”

  Tano had come into view. Algini hadn’t. Tano stood by him, rifle at rest, while Jago went up onto the other porch and carefully opened the door.

  The inside light came on and brightened. Bren gave a courteous bow to the manager, then went over to the other porch, all the while feeling extremely exposed in the floodlights that bathed the yard.

  He went in. Jago flipped switches and initiated their call to Najida estate.

  It took a bit. “Stand by,” she said, then handed Bren the microphone and the headset, which Bren held to one ear.

  “This is Bren-paidhi,” he said. “Who is speaking?”

  “Nandi?” came the answer.

  “Is this Nawari?”

  “Yes. We are under attack, nandi. So is the airport.”

  Just a little uncharacteristically rattled, for Nawari. It was a good thing, he thought, that Banichi hadn’t taken them down the main road past the airport. But he couldn’t ask questions that might betray Najida’s situation.

  “We are about to enter into Sarini province.”

  “Nandi, one begs you observe caution!”

  “How is Kajiminda faring, nadi?”

  “Kajiminda has not come under attack, nandi. Najida and the airport are both under assault. ”

  “Call Shejidan,” he said. “Advise them I am on the border and on my way toward Najida.”

  “Yes, nandi.”

  He nodded to Jago. Jago flipped off the power, rifle in the crook of her other arm, and led the way out, where Tano waited.

  The manager still stood on the porch, shirtless in the cold wind.

  “Nadi,” Jago said to him. “If anyone asks you where we went, do not hesitate to tell them we are headed toward Kajiminda. And tell them we told you to tell them.”

  “Nadi.” The man looked as puzzled as he should look, as Banichi manuevered the van around the corner to the fuel pump and Tano moved to do the fueling.

  Bren boarded the van quickly once it stopped by the fuel tank, getting his pale conspicuous civilian self out of view. Lucasi welcomed him in with a pistol in hand, and Tano took the van’s fuel cap off. In a moment, fuel started flowing, the van sinking under the weight.

  God, Bren thought, with a prickling up and down his spine. Let us get out of here. Soon.

  Algini had to be out there. The man on the porch had to figure there might be more of them.

  Jago got into the front seat, arranging her rifle between the seats as she did so. “That man on the porch claims he is Taisigi. He has served Guild traffic coming through here, to and from Kajiminda. He assumed they were from Tanaja and kept the road mowed.”

  Could a Senji accent pass? Maybe. Could Machigi have hedged the truth in a major way? That was always a question.

  Just as there might or might not really be children in that house. The same way Algini was off in the little woods, there could just as easily be a partner with a rifle aimed at them at this very moment from that front window and more trying to get out the back door. They could start a small war here if someone took a signal wrong.

  It seemed forever until fueling stopped and the fuel cap went on. Lucasi climbed back in by the side door. Tano climbed aboard and left the side door open.

  Banichi started the engine and backed them around as Tano worked his way past Bren to take a rear seat.

  Algini? Bren wondered. They were still moving. It was not a surprise, however, when near the trees that bordered the road, they slowed for the turn, and an armed shadow appeared in that open doorway, climbed aboard, and shut the door, breathing a little heavily.

  Algini made his way to the rear and sat down. “Cold,” was all he said.

  They were leaving behind them a functional generator and a radio, not to mention fuel. And if that was a local Guild operation, the man had everything he needed to make them serious trouble.

  Except for Jago’s instruction: I want you to tell them . . .

  The man had gotten news by radio. Likely, the moment he had seen a human step out of the van, he had known all the names but Lucasi’s. He’d know that they were from Shejidan’s Guild, and Tabini-aiji, and Cenedi and the aiji-dowager. With him shining in the floodlight, they were far from incognito.

  If the man was local and honest, he might be of the same mind-set as Machigi’s aishid, worried about their own lord’s situation, upset about news of a Guild action in Tanaja. But—

  God, this man must have been at least in some wise a forward observer on what had gone on at Kajiminda. He had to have occupied an uneasy post if he had seen more and more suspicious sorts heading that direction. He might have sent back reports to Machigi, which might have gotten no farther than Machigi’s bodyguard, reports that had made Machigi’s bodyguard fear for his life and try to keep the situation quiet—assuming the best about the man who’d at least made a strong move to protect them and get them out of Tanaja.

  At least they’d gotten fuel. They’d gotten a message out so at least their own side—and every enemy within a hundred kilometers—knew they were out here. Their allies were warned now not to shoot them by mistake, and if their enemies diverted themselves away from current objectives—Najida and the airport—to chase after them, that could upset drawn battle lines. If there was an airport attack ongoing, then somebody was stuck in the airport, and it wasn’t likely the renegades.

  Tabini’s forces were most likely. Tabini would move to protect his grandmother, his son, and Lord Geigi, all of whom had helpfully stationed themselves in a war zone.

  It would be very nice if Tabini had force enough to spare and could come get them out of this pickle. But he had no desire to divert them from their main job, which would be to get reinforcements over to Najida. That was earnestly to be desired.

  The tires spat gravel as Banichi turned them out onto the road again, and by what Bren could figure, they were heading due west. The border could not be that far away by now, if they were not already in it. They were on a line to intercept the Kajiminda road, and from there—

  From there either head to Kajiminda, or turn left to Separti Township, not a safe place, or turn right and head for Najida, hoping for the best.

  He didn’t want to draw an attack down on Kajiminda, which had been safe, thus far. More, he didn’t trust that short, flat, wide-open road to Geigi’s estate. He didn’t know why: the feeling bordered on superstition. He had a bad feeling about it—less so about heading for Najida.

  They needed to move fast.

  Because if trouble turned away from the airport and headed for them overland, he’d really like to be close to some sort of shelter.

  It was nand’ Bren who had just called, and he was not in Tanaja, he was most of the way home. Cenedi had brought that news downstairs. Nobody could mistake his voice, Cenedi said. And when mani heard it, mani actually laughed, though shortly. “Clever fellow,” was what mani said about it. “Are we surprised? We are not.”

  But, Cajeiri thought, but what can we do to help him? There were enemies all over, and nand’ Bren was going to try to get through? They should help him.

  “So what will we do, mani? Shall we go after him?”

  “One is quite certain the paidhi will have good advice with him, young gentleman,” Cenedi said. “When he gets near enough, we may; but in the meanwhile we can only attract attention toward him and open yet another action. That would not help.”

  It was not the answer he wanted. But at least Cenedi had stopped to listen to him.

  And nand’ Bren was smart. And he had Banichi and Jago with him, and Tano and Algini, who were n
o one to ignore, either. They would not let him do anything risky.

  It was a scary situation. There was a lot of hammering going on upstairs, and some staff had made a dangerous run out to the garage to get boards, which now were going up to reinforce the front doors and the broken window. They were not going to be open to the breeze for much longer. Baiji was locked up in his room again. Cajeiri had no idea where they had taken the three intruders or whether the one man was dead. And nand’ Siegi had transfused a lot of blood into Veijico, who was down the hall along with two of mani’s guards who had been shot and one of the household staff, a girl who had been near the front door. She had been hit by a piece of shrapnel. She was only fifteen, and everybody had been very upset about that.

  Veijico was doing all right, Antaro said. But Cajeiri would feel better only when he saw her for himself—and mani had told him firmly to stay out of the physician’s way while he was working; and then when Antaro said nand’ Siegi was through, mani had said he should stay out of the halls and not be running about until they had repaired the doors.

  So he was trapped in mani’s room, under mani’s direct supervision, and he had to do what he was told.

  He was at least where he could protect Jegari and Antaro as well as himself and mani. That situation he agreed with. He had complained they should have a gun, but Nawari had stationed two of mani’s young men in the hall, and they had guns enough, mani said.

  Mani had actually said he had done the right thing. She very rarely paid compliments, so he was very proud of her saying so. Lord Geigi said the same. And except for a very few casualties, they had come through the attack fairly well, except nand’ Bren’s beautiful stained-glass window: Cenedi said that was gone.

  It should have been exciting. But with people hurt and nand’ Bren out there trying to get home, it was just scary.

  Staff had brought them breakfast, because he had scattered the last breakfast all over the upstairs hall.

  But his stomach was too upset to enjoy it.

  Nand’ Bren could not possibly make it here in the way he indicated he was going to do. But, he thought, with a tasteless bite of toast, nand’ Bren could be very clever, and maybe what he had told them he was going to do was not at all what he was going to do.

  He dared not ask, however. Credit with mani went only so far. He just sat and ate tasteless toast, so tired his eyes were trying to shut.

  But every time they did, he saw the man pushing his way into mani’s room, and he saw the man turning to look at him and aiming the rifle. Over and over and over.

  He was not going to sleep, no matter he had been up all the night and was shivering he was so exhausted.

  Not on that kind of dream.

  The sky lightened under a spatter of rain, and the van’s righthand windshield wiper wasn’t working but halfway. The road passed near a small forest as the rim of the sun came up under the cloud. Morning light cast long shadows, picking out every clump of grass and lump of dirt, while rain fell down as a fine mist.

  Banichi slowed the van to a stop, said something to Jago, and got out.

  Break for necessities in a relatively secure place, Bren thought. Tano got up and opened the door, and Algini got out, and then Lucasi followed, and Bren did.

  It was more than that, however. Banichi and Algini talked for a moment, Tano added himself to the conversation, and then Jago did, a close conference in which Lucasi hung back, sensing himself not included, perhaps, until Banichi said, “Guildsman.”

  Lucasi limped forward with some speed and quietly joined the conference.

  That left Bren, the civilian, leaning against a young tree, resting, and with the distinct impression there was some discussion going on that Banichi didn’t think he would necessarily approve of.

  Like leaving him behind again. He saw that coming. But it made a certain sense. If it contributed to their safety, he would hide in whatever hole he had to and just wait.

  None of them had had any significant sleep except Lucasi. Banichi had been driving nonstop, refusing Jago’s offer to take the wheel, and by now he had to be exhausted.

  And now they proposed to go do something desperate and didn’t think he needed to be part of the planning—as if he could penetrate the code or get more than a handful of the signs they were using even if he were standing over there in the middle of it. There were things they needed to say in Guild context, with meanings an outsider wasn’t going to grasp without a half hour of explanation, and even so—probably wouldn’t like. He was increasingly sure he was not going to like the outcome.

  There were nods. “Yes,” Jago said, and Tano, and then Lucasi nodded, too, so Lucasi was in on it.

  Bren waited, glumly. And it was Banichi who came to him.

  “Beyond this point,” Banichi said, “there will be difficulty, Bren-ji. The van is far too noisy, far too obvious a target to bring straight down the Kajiminda road. We would do better to leave it, get a rescue party organized from Kajiminda—not taking for granted it is still in allied hands—and you cannot keep our pace, either getting there or getting out, if need be.”

  “You want me to stay here,” he said.

  “You will have Lucasi,” Banichi said, “and he will be armed and equipped with a locator. He is young. He will, however, suffice for a simple mission. We expect the Edi will have camped around Kajiminda, that this is a force the renegades have not wanted to take on, adding one more enemy to their difficulties—and that they have remained unengaged. But equipped. The difficulty is that they will be looking for Guild and not expecting us to be on their doorstep. We are going to have to get through and make a careful approach. If we can, we can get back here, bring you to Kajiminda, and then make a little noise.”

  “To draw the renegade attack away from Najida. To bring the renegades under Edi fire.”

  Banichi nodded. “Your own excellent notion, Bren-ji, somewhat reworked. Considering your recent negotiations with Machigi, you directly threaten them, perhaps more, to their perception, than the aiji-dowager. Be patient and stay hidden. The van would be more comfortable a place for you to wait, but we advise you put as much distance between yourself and the road as you can. The trees in the other direction are an obvious line of retreat and an obvious ambush for anyone who sees the van as bait. We intend that they be cautious and slow in their investigation should they come here. Lucasi has instructions. You may listen to his advisements—up to a point.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Just—” One could argue that it might be safest of all for them all to retreat into the wild and stay there until the Guild finished its business in this district. But that didn’t help their allies. He’d offered an idea, sleep-deprived and exhausted; and they, likewise on no sleep, had taken it. Which worried him. “Be careful, Nichi-ji. I want you back. I want you all back. One is quite adamant on that point.”

  Banichi said: “We always are careful, Bren-ji. Rely on us.”

  And then Banichi left him, headed into the trees. Jago, departing, gave him one backward glance. Algini didn’t—just picked up their gear. Only Tano, at the last moment, came back and gave him his canteen, then went off to catch up with Algini, the lot of them making, one suspected, a cautiously obvious trail.

  Banichi had parked the van, however, on a small dome of sandstone, and it was clearly up to them to get out of here without laying down obvious tracks in the other direction.

  Bren looked in Lucasi’s direction. “We should go, nadi.”

  “One will try not to leave marks,” Lucasi said. “But kindly walk atop my track, nandi.” Lucasi settled his makeshift crutch and limped off around the van, passing over an area where there was a muddle of footsteps in a patch of dirt that overlapped the sheet of buried rock atop which the van was parked.

  He understood the game clearly enough. Walk on the rock, leave no track, while Banichi and the rest laid down just enough trail to be followed—and believed—by experts.

  The one they laid down had to be far, far harder to find;
he understood that. Lucasi was walking without his stick, hobbling along, probably in considerable pain, on what rapidly became a climb toward the rocky heights, the rugged upthrust of the plateau, on the edge of the coastal lands. On that steep climb, Lucasi stopped now and again and plotted his path; he finally found a place where the occasional rock became a lower, flatter spot and where a straggle of brush grew from the underside of low, body-sized shelves of rock.

  Lucasi sat down, immediately bent over and struggling with pain. Bren sat down. They had climbed well out of view of the road—either road, since the Kajiminda to Separti road crossed that same patch of woods to the south.

  He wished they had the strength to keep going just a little higher.

  But they had to stay findable, didn’t they, by their own side? Lucasi’s face was running with sweat. He didn’t speak, he didn’t complain.

  Hadn’t he sworn never to interfere with his bodyguard or get in their way? This whole stratagem had started with his idea. Granted, four very astute bodyguards had accepted the notion, but it still had his fingerprints on it, and he’d sworn, while being picked up off the floor at Targai, never, ever to interfere with his bodyguard again.

  That vow hadn’t lasted long, had it?

  He sat. He had a tiny sip of water and offered some to Lucasi, who silently accepted it and nodded thanks, handing the canteen back.

  This wasn’t the brash young man who’d repeatedly caused them trouble. Lucasi was quiet and very sober, his eyes, once he’d caught his breath, scanning the area constantly, his ears doubtless on the alert. Which of his aishid had personally gotten to the young man he wasn’t sure, but someone had— maybe Banichi, possibly Algini. But it had evidently made an impression.

  And now the kid had an assignment from them, the biggest assignment they could possibly hand the boy—namely him—and he didn’t plan to make it harder for the young man. He sat still and silent, not to distract him, trusting atevi hearing to pick up anything moving out there, any sound of a motor, or any gunfire.

  All he personally heard was the wind, whispering in the brush. The gray, scattered clouds intermittently shed a little rain, spots that grew thick on the stone, then slowly evaporated.