“I joined them two hours ago,” Jago muttered. “And by then it seemed settled.”
“What?” Bren asked. “What is settled, nadiin-ji?”
“Geidaro attacked Lord Tatiseigi,” Banichi said. “Apparently the Najida bus was involved. The aiji had it transported up to Lord Tatiseigi’s estate, for the protection of the aiji-consort, her daughter, and the young gentleman, but none of them were aboard at the time.”
“Her daughter. Surely she was aware of the danger . . .”
“Absolutely she was. And she took the train, thus preventing the dowager taking it—and the bus. Seimiro is, among other things, a child of the Atageini governing line, extinct except for—”
“Except for Tatiseigi,” Bren concluded. Damiri was playing power politics with everything she had. Ajuri was at issue.
But Damiri surely had no intention of putting an infant forward as lord of Ajuri.
No. No infant claimant could hold that deadly office through all the vulnerabilities and mistakes of growing up. Absolutely not. It was Atageini itself Damiri intended—holding out her daughter not only as an heir for a nearly-extinct and critically valuable line, but offering Tatiseigi a successor with a very close tie to both the present and future power of the aijinate.
And offering it now, as Tatiseigi was in a position of shaping the future of the region.
God, when the woman finally rolled the dice, she set out her pieces in full battle order, no backing away, no mistaking her reasoning in this.
“She is challenging Geidaro,” Bren said. “And Tatiseigi both. But this claimant for Ajuri and his followers—and our bus. I understand the aiji bringing up the bus, but—none of them aboard. So why attack the bus? Am I somehow at issue?”
“The bus was making a supply run,” Algini said. “The Ajuri may have mistaken its mission.”
“There had been prior trouble,” Tano said. “Lord Tatiseigi was injured in what may have been an Ajuri move the night before. And several clans are now involved. Taiben was there as added protection for the young gentleman. Ajuri following this Nomari are camped on Tatiseigi’s grounds. And Dur has now flown in, likewise to offer support.”
“Lord Tatiseigi Filed on Geidaro,” Jago said, “after the incident in which he was injured, and before the bus incident. Taiben is there. Dur. And local Guild. Guild Council meanwhile shelved all debate on the Filing and moved units toward Ajiden on an emergency basis. Meanwhile someone, apparently in Guild uniform, killed Geidaro and a number of the staff, then started a fire in the lower hall. Staff managed to put it out. Guild is now on the premises, and they are attempting to trace the murderers. The belief is that they arrived from the Marid.”
There were two sources in the south who might wear Guild uniform. One was the Shadow Guild. The other—
Could be Machigi, who had an association with Nomari.
“The fire-setting argues someone wanting to destroy what the Guild wants its hands on,” he said. “And knowing they had no time. Machigi would be only too happy to have Shadow Guild records carted to Shejidan in their entirety.”
“That would be true,” Algini said somberly. “And it would certainly be a question in Guild Council, but indeed, it is not likely Machigi who would be incriminated by records in Ajiden.”
“Which leaves us without Geidaro—no loss; and with a still-viable claimant.” He sat still a moment, absorbing it, trying to make some sort of reasonable sequence out of it. “Is it possible Shadow Guild caused whatever problem injured Lord Tatiseigi?”
“Possible, yes,” Algini said. “Ironic, if their move led Lord Tatiseigi to File on Geidaro. Ironic if they then had to finish her, in hopes of destroying those records before a new lord might take Ajuri. Shishogi’s records, if they exist there, would be of immense interest. I do not doubt there will be a rapid assignment of Guild units to Nomari—I would suspect the assignment is tentative, but that somewhere in that movement of Guild in the region, there are two units ready to introduce themselves to this young man.”
“Meanwhile,” Banichi said, “the young lord of Dur is repairing his plane in Diegi, but he is moving Guild in by rail. Likewise the lord of Taiben has personally entered the camp outside Tirnamardi’s grounds, to be sure there is no further mischief there. The situation does seem to be well covered.”
“God.” That, in Mosphei’. He sat there, stunned, as Tano replaced the cup of tea with a fresh one. “I leave the mainland for a few days and the world changes.”
“In a certain sense,” Jago said, “one may be grateful to Damiri-daja. Lord Tatiseigi has rarely moved at extravagant risk to himself. People in general have accused him of timidity. Some even say he survived the Troubles by being too timid to take personal risk—”
“While he was sheltering the aiji on his land.”
“Yet he has this reputation,” Jago said, “that he will not run a risk.”
“Damiri-daja has brought her daughter to Tirnamardi,” Banichi said. “That, and the young gentleman’s presence, make a difference. I would not be surprised if Damiri-daja has not, privately, before anything of this happened, informed Lord Tatiseigi that she would visit, would bring the child—and with Ajuri suddenly in contention, and considering that Geidaro’s visit had tipped the balance—she made the move.”
“Damiri-daja attempted to rehabilitate Ajuri,” Algini said, “during her father’s lordship. She was upset when Tabini-aiji ejected all that house from the capital. But when her father was assassinated, that was a serious blow. When Shishogi went down, the very night Seimiro came into the world, she both acquired an asset independent of her husband, and, from the new Council, began to get undeniable information about Ajuri’s involvement in the coup.”
“Geidaro’s intrusion into Tirnamardi may have seemed more ominous to her than it did to Lord Tatiseigi,” Banichi said, “on that account. Ominous, indeed. And she was not about to cede this situation to the aiji-dowager. She was going to go, she was going to bring her daughter into Tirnamardi, she was going to meet this candidate for Ajuri and pass judgment on his fitness. And though she likely had not expected the situation to take the turn it has—she brought more high-level reinforcements, not to mention what Tabini-aiji had already sent with his son.”
“Most of all,” Algini said, “she brought with her an heir for Atageini, a child of the ancient line, which is the very point on which the whole Ajuri-Atageini feud began. So quite suddenly—Lord Tatiseigi is no longer made of glass, apt to leave chaos if he falls.”
“And Geidaro,” Banichi said, “who sat perched atop records the Guild feared would be destroyed if she were threatened, may now be dead, and those records—are in play. That is an outcome more deadly to the Shadow Guild than any physical attack.”
“Whether or not they are found,” Algini said, “the Shadow Guild now cannot trust they have not been, and the names of every resource they have may be exposed. Only the Guild Council will know. And the Shadow Guild’s resources may start disappearing.” Algini rarely smiled. He smiled now, with a particular satisfaction.
God, the window onto the sky showed only a suggestion of daylight arriving. They sat here in the last of the night, with the sea between them and massive changes on the mainland, with the sky about to deliver them another change in the world. Things seemed out of control, speeding toward some different destination than a day ago.
“Frightening,” he said. Change tended to be that.
“One force is shoved aside,” Banichi said, “and another comes into play. At this point we do not know what, but there will be reactions, definitely, from those who will not like what results.”
“No one is ever satisfied,” Tano said.
“Machigi,” Jago said, “is sitting in the southern Marid with a teen-aged fool entertaining the Shadow Guild in the Marid’s northern provinces. He has concerns far closer to his border.”
The foo
l in question was Tiajo, Lord of the Dojisigin Marid, who had leapt beyond the control of her father, convinced she was invulnerable. And Machigi was building strength, but not to join Tiajo. To take her down, likely, but the aishidi’tat had rather, at the moment, have a weak Shadow Guild flattering a fool in one province than a full-blown war destabilizing the whole south.
Ilisidi was dealing with Machigi. And might learn interesting things. Or convey them. She could assure Machigi of something he wanted even more than he wanted the north—use of the southern ports for something other than fishing boats.
“I ask myself,” he said, “whether my absence may have helped bring this situation to a crisis. Certainly the aiji-consort would not have welcomed my mediation, under the circumstances—it being a deeply personal matter. And I am doubly glad the dowager is keeping Machigi’s attention at the moment.”
“That,” Algini said, “is potentially the most dangerous man in the aishidi’tat. One has to wonder what this Ajuri may have learned about him during the Troubles.”
“The shuttle is on its way,” Bren mused, “and I shall wrap up affairs and make a quiet return. Landing at Najida will indeed be the best entry—quiet, with the Red Train accessible to get me back to the Bujavid with no notice at all. There are indeed questions to ask. One is beginning to feel the whole continent has shifted.”
• • •
Having Antaro and Jegari upstairs, shed of their weapons and gear, and sitting for a bit in comfortable chairs—was a wonderful gift. Knowing Uncle and Mother were likewise upstairs, and that Sister was peacefully sleeping down the hall, put a cap on a night that, now that dawn was creeping into the window, had them all exhausted.
It was just a little sweetmeats and tea, in lieu of the meals they had missed—though Antaro and Jegari confessed they had all eaten quite well on the bus, which had brought in all manner of supplies: staff and Guild alike had indulged, while the bus was pinned down and the world was in crisis.
And they faced a real breakfast in a few hours—a very late breakfast, since it was to include Reijiri, who had been up all night with repairs to his plane. Uncle decreed that morning would come four hours late, since there had been no real sleep for anyone except, perhaps, Sister, who had been sheltered from it all. Staff and guests and refugees and all, they were to go to bed and have a few hours, one hoped, without alarms.
Rieni and Haniri came up upstairs, finally; they had spent the night in the security office, which had been dealing with defenses and communications both. They reported that Nomari was indeed doing just as Uncle asked, and that everything downstairs was quiet, with operations turned over to Uncle’s people and two of Mother’s guard.
And they both collapsed wearily into comfortable chairs, while Eisi and Liedi provided hot tea and a plate of spicy sweets, which they declined. “We have drunk far too much tea,” Haniri said, “and eaten to stay awake and alert. But good people are in charge there. We could rest—if we had not drunk so much black tea. I doubt we shall sleep for three days.”
“Is there any word from Ajiden?” Cajeiri asked.
“Not yet, except to say the fire is out and the search is ongoing.”
“Some of the people with Nomari,” Rieni said, “we suspect are the risen dead, the same as the senior officers of the Guild who managed to survive the Troubles. Families inside Ajuri will have unexpected reunions that may or may not go well, inheritances that may soon be in question. And that will be Nomari’s problem to solve, granted his confirmation. But that is another day’s problem. It is all on the strength of man’chi, whether he can hold the troubles in check, and whether he can compel settlements of differences. He has been rather too gentle and too agreeable. Until an hour ago.”
“You heard that,” Cajeiri asked.
“One rather thinks, nandi, that that is the face he has shown to those in the tents. To those he has persuaded to follow him. Did he wish to deceive us? We have asked that question. We have asked your mother’s aishid how he was when he spoke to her in private. And the answer is—he wears more than one manner. Speaking to your mother, he began to be yet another person, honest, her aishid believes, showing his grief for his family and his intent to overthrow Geidaro, but reserved in address. With you, with your great-uncle, respectful and cautious. With some of his followers, intimate and affectionate. With his followers in general, one suspects, much more what appeared in the hall.”
“He helped Machigi,” Cajeiri said. Mani had said that Machigi was safe to deal with only when he had something to gain. But he did not spread mani’s advice about to everybody, and Rieni and the rest were still new. “And now he may become Machigi’s equal.”
“That might be true in more than one sense,” Rieni said, and that was certainly worth thinking about.
• • •
No more troubling word had come through the military connection Toby had brought. There was quiet word from Geigi, by phone, that the young gentleman’s great-uncle was extremely regretful that the bus had suffered a little damage, but that it remained serviceable, and that any future damage would be repaired before it was freighted back to the coast.
“That does not sound, nadiin-ji, as if they are quite through the problem,” Bren said.
“No,” Banichi agreed. “It does not. My personal guess is that the bus is being reserved to move the aiji’s family, possibly Lord Tatiseigi, and this candidate for Ajuri wherever they need to go.”
“How long may we expect the Guild to be searching the Ajiden understructure?”
A little silence, then, from Banichi: “Say that they have the means to do it without undue disturbance of the structure. There will be no hidden compartments, not even a space as large as a tea-tray, but what they can find it. I would say within a few days.”
“Of course what they find might require more attention.”
“Explosives?” He was appalled.
“Say they are proceeding cautiously,” Tano said. That was Tano’s field; and if they had been anywhere in reach, Tano would have been involved, one was quite sure.
But they were not in reach.
And his aishid, as he did, simply had to wait and take the little information they could get.
What did arrive, however, after breakfast, was Kate, and a pleasant surprise, Sandra Johnson—Kate on her crutches, in a businesslike summer shirt, with a horrid brown print skirt that had not come from any house of fashion; and Sandra in modest blue, looking as if she worked for a bank, and porting a box of donuts—to the interest of them all.
“Welcome in,” Bren said, not having had a chance to say so in person.
“We’re so excited,” Sandra said.
“I’m so glad to have you,” Bren said. “Anything you need. Soon as you need it. Sit down. Cup of tea. Donuts all round. We’re on Mospheiran manners here, understanding you have a lot on your schedule. Finance all working? You’re going to be in?”
“No problems,” Kate said. “Tom’s established a house account, put us on the list: money’s no difficulty. Last delivery was last night, excepting the household goods. Those arrive today. We’ll be moved in. Sandra’s kitchen arrived last night.”
“Beautiful things,” Sandra said. “Wonderful things. The range has eight burners!”
“State of the art,” Kate said. “And a refrigerator that could supply a small shop. We’re not going to starve. The van’s coming in today. John and the boys are seeing to that.”
The arrangement had Sandra and her family and Kate all living in the outer security bubble, involving second-floor space, complete with kitchens and private living space, and a specially fortified van for excursions. Sandra’s husband was going to have a computer link to his job. The two sons, a shade too old to socialize with the Reunioner kids and a shade too young for the lads from Documents, were enrolled in the University school, John and the boys having their own security somewhat loos
ely attached when they did step outside the bubble, but definitely present. It was not going to be an easy adjustment for the boys in particular.
But Kate had said it: Sandra’s past association with him meant there already were dangers in a heated political climate, and there was no getting around it. It was an island. People knew things. People knew connections. And having Sandra’s family drawn into a secure environment while Heritage outrage would focus on an increasing number of Reunioner arrivals—was better than hoping the packages that arrived at a modest house in Bretano contained no surprises.
Get through this, get the Reunioners down here over the next several years, and various lives could reach some sort of normalcy.
It was his hope, at least, that Heyden Court would revert to a museum, or office space, or whatever it needed to be, in a world that had found the Reunioners not that difficult to assimilate.
One hoped it, on so many grounds.
“The boiler is going,” Kate said, “and modern air conditioning is going in. Today, or I’ll be having a private conversation with the workmen. The old central vent is dismantled, and there will be two independent systems. The new vents are too small for passage. The dumbwaiter system is going, plastered over and with no cable. And there is a modern security link phone in Sandra’s residence, in the kids’ residences, each, in my residence, and in my office. Security will blind-order groceries and supplies, so that anything ordered in is going to be safe.”
“And meanwhile,” Bren said, “you have to give these families some notion how Mospheirans live. Cooking. Handling money, for one thing. They’ve only had cards and rations.”
“Sandra’s job,” Kate said. “Sandra. Sandra’s family. Even the kids.”
“They know to be careful,” Sandra said. “They know the problems. But they want to help.”
“They’re your kids,” Bren said. “I trust you, and John. They’ll be an asset.”
“Security says we can do excursions,” Sandra said. “John and the boys already have a list of things the kids have to see.”
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