Peacemaker

by C. J. Cherryh

  They had, however, transported Cajeiri’s pet, Boji, a parid’ja, in an ornate, antique cage the size of a small dining set. It, with staff baggage, was in the car ahead of them, with Cenedi and certain of the dowager’s men, with Kaplan and Polano, and all their gear. Boji had somewhat earned special consideration, as much of a headache as he had been last evening. The black-furred little imp, of a species fairly rare on the continent except in Taiben and the foothills of the continental divide, was noisy, escape-prone, and hard to catch, but he had been of service, and if they had had to leave Cajeiri’s principal present behind in the stables, they had resolved not to leave Cajeiri’s little egg-thief behind if they could possibly avoid it.

  Boji was going to have to come up the freight elevator, however, with Cajeiri’s valets, who were traveling in attendance on it. And in yet another car were certain of the dowager’s bodyguard, Jase’s two men, in armor, and with their gear; and the three prisoners they were bringing back with them. One almost hoped, regarding Aseida, the Kadagidi lord, now in deep difficulty with the dowager and Lord Tatiseigi, that Boji pitched one of his prolonged screaming fits. One did not, however, wish it on Cenedi—or on their other prisoners, two Dojisigi Assassins who were also going to have to be put somewhere. Those two honorable and sensible men did not deserve a bare cell in the Bujavid’s detention station. Lord Aseida himself, who deserved the bleakest lodging they could find—was too sensitive a case to put into ordinary care, and one wondered what the dowager was going to do with the three of them.

  But it was not his decision.

  Bren slung his computer strap to his shoulder—Jago usually helped him with it, but Jago had her several weapons with her. They all did. There was enough firepower in this car and the next to take the entire Bujavid by storm, if that had been their intent . . . or to have defended the train, if they’d come under attack. One earnestly hoped not to have to do that.

  The train ran level now, and though he’d lost track of the switches, Bren was sure he knew on what track they would arrive, and that they would face a short walk to the end of the track. He stood ready to debark. Jase did. And at the other end of the car, the youngsters surged to their feet, all gathering up their personal bags, with Bren’s valet attempting to bring order to chaos. The aiji-dowager and Lord Tatiseigi alone stayed seated as the train, somewhat past the little bump at its switching-point, came to a stop. Then Tatiseigi got up, not too obviously with the assistance of his chief bodyguard, and gallantly offered his hand to Ilisidi, who used the other hand for her black cane.

  The movement of senior Guild outward up the aisle displaced the youngsters, who crowded back into their seats, clearing passage, but that door was not going to open until Cenedi and their people from the car in front had deployed on the platform and signaled them it was safe.

  “Nandi.” Bren gave place to Ilisidi and Lord Tatiseigi. And to Jase, Jase happening to outrank him, at least in the protocols of the heavens: “Just keep in front of me. Cajeiri and the youngsters are your problem. Don’t lose me. We’re all going to the same floor.”

  “Got it,” Jase said.

  The right-hand doors opened at the end of the car, and Bren’s heartbeat picked up as their company began to disembark. Ilisidi’s bodyguard exited first, all business, and quickly formed up. Then half of Tatiseigi’s bodyguard.

  Ilisidi and Tatiseigi went out together, the rest of Tatiseigi’s bodyguard followed, and then Jase and the youngsters, with Cajeiri and his young bodyguard. Bren exited behind Banichi and Jago, hindmost of the principals, out into the echoing dim chill of the station, with Tano, Algini, and his two valets right at his back.

  Down the platform, Cenedi headed toward them, from where two of the dowager’s men and Kaplan and Polano, conspicuous in their white armor, guarded the open baggage car door. Cenedi joined the dowager, and they and the rest of the party headed off with no delay for the baggage, Jase’s bodyguards, their prisoners, or the parid’ja in its cage.

  They had arrived not quite in the situation Bren had envisioned: they were on track one, instead of three, which usually took provincial arrivals. Their engine faced the Red Train’s venerable engine nose to nose. So the station authority had had the word, and shunted them over to the reserved track, saving them, and particularly the dowager and Lord Tatiseigi, a trek down the concrete platforms to the end of the line, and another exposed trek over to reach the lift columns.

  That was a relief. If there was going to be a problem it should manifest now, on the short way across that concrete expanse to the lifts. Their bodyguards walked between them and the likeliest vantages for snipers, and they did not linger a moment to look about. Polano and Kaplan were going to have to rely on the dowager’s men to direct them to the lifts—but they had the prisoners to bring up. Jase’s guards had about enough Ragi for go and stop, fire and hold fire, but that was another problem, in someone else’s hands. The overriding concern was getting the primary targets—the dowager and Tatiseigi—and himself and Jase and the youngsters—out of view and under cover.

  They reached the bank of lifts in safety. Cenedi quickened pace slightly to reach the second lift, opened the door not by the ordinary means—but using a Guild key that not only opened the door, but took the car temporarily out of service, under a senior bodyguard’s control.

  That was how deeply the Guild’s access was embedded in the Bujavid’s systems. Units serving lords resident in the Bujavid were authorized; and to what extent their electronics could reach into systems, and whether a key like that could be locked out at a higher level, were not matters for non-Guild to know. A lord was not used to questioning how such things worked. A lord was used to trusting the people who used those accesses, and trusting that they were going to work when needed.

  Today it was a great relief that it did work. Bren and his bodyguard boarded last, and as he turned toward the open lift door, his two valets, still outside, signaled they would wait for the next car.

  The door shut. In the center of the car, next to him, were the dowager, Jase and Cajeiri, who were his height, and the youngsters, who were shorter, enclosed in a circle of Guild uniforms. Cenedi stood next to the control panel. The car immediately started to move, rising rapidly through all the many stories of warehouses and mechanicals that served the above-ground floors, not buttons available on their panel. The first number they reached was ground level, where the public had access. But nothing could stop a car under security lock. It kept rising past the second floor, slowed and stopped sedately at third level.

  Home.

  The doors opened. Cenedi nodded, Tano and Algini stepped out, and Bren did, into a tranquil place of antique, figured carpet runners, a broad hall with plinths and porcelains, tapestry hangings and rococo moldings, and more decorative niches and display nooks than there were doors. Luxury—and security interwoven. There were untraditional cameras that answered only to the residents’ security, and fed images to security stations inside the four apartments. Above that figured porcelain opposite was one.

  And they could finally draw an easier breath. Bren waited as the rest of the party exited.

  “Are we in a house?” young Irene asked in a subdued voice.

  “This is just a hallway,” Cajeiri answered her quietly, and the dowager briskly tapped her cane for attention.

  “Great-grandson, you and your guests will lodge with Lord Tatiseigi. You and your guests may walk easily now. We are out of danger. —Paidhi-ji, you can surely host Jase-aiji comfortably.”

  “Aiji-ma.” Bren gave a sketch of a bow. Jase and his bodyguard he could manage easily, and Jase’s company would be more than welcome.

  “We are quite exhausted,” the dowager said, paused for a moment, and brought her cane down smartly on a bare patch of marble floor, which sent echoes ringing. “So. We shall recover ourselves for the rest of the day. Individual staffs can see to our needs, shall they not, nandiin-ji? My grandso
n is aware, now, that we are here, and that a briefing will be forthcoming, such as we can arrange, but it will come from my junior bodyguard. One is certain one will come, too, from the paidhi-aiji. We shall not be offended if the paidhi-aiji should anticipate us in that matter.”

  “Aiji-ma,” Bren said, and bowed a second time, pure reflex, while the thought went sailing through his head that the briefing was not necessarily to inform Tabini on things that Tabini had rather be able to deny. There might be action coming, and the dowager might use her rest to sit and give orders that might span the continent—but whatever they did in the next few hours, the operation would not involve the aiji’s very junior bodyguard. And the orders the dowager would give, involving forces here and there across the continent, might not be orders her grandson would hear about, until they had an outcome.

  The members of her own staff that Ilisidi had stationed inside Tabini’s apartment—right down to the hairdresser the aiji-consort had requested—were another matter. Doubtless someone from that staff would find occasion to visit the aiji-dowager’s apartment in the next hour or so, bring the dowager current on questions it might not be politic for the dowager to ask Tabini-aiji, and receive instructions about which it might not be politic to tell Tabini-aiji, either.

  He had his own questions about the part of their operation still hanging fire. And if there had been any conversation between the dowager and Lord Tatiseigi about lodging the children, he must have slept through it—but that was not a question he needed ask, now, either. He had his orders and a set of problems—Jase’s lodging, and Tabini’s information—in whatever order he could manage. Ilisidi held out her cane sideways, herding everyone in her own party toward the left, up-hall, and leaving Bren with his own aishid and with Jase.

  “This way,” he said to Jase, and, with his bodyguard, led off toward his own door, down a considerable length of ornate and empty hallway.

  6

  It felt like the home stretch of a long, long race. Bren walked, aching in the knees, sighting on his own apartment’s doors, midway down the stretch of hall that dead-ended at Tabini-aiji’s door. He hitched the computer strap on his shoulder, putting another wrinkle in a coat that was already a disaster. Jase walked beside him.

  “Quite something, this,” Jase said.

  “They’ve done extensive remodeling of this floor since the coup. Quite a lot of remodeling at the aiji’s end. And mine. I now have a guest room—gift from the aiji; and you have to appreciate how precious space is, here. You and your two, you’ll have room enough—if they don’t move the parid’ja in on us. I truly hope they don’t. But they well could, and one can only apologize in advance.”

  The hallway—this whole floor of the Bujavid—had been on its own systems since the coup, and was a complete darkness to the rest of the Bujavid. The dowager’s men had maintained the surveillance here in their absence, and the hallway itself was a secure area, at least as secure as the dowager’s own apartment. Ordinary lift cars couldn’t stop here without a key. There was no likelihood of trouble.

  But he didn’t trust anything now, with everything that was rattling loose. He was, he thought, on his last legs, not quite reasonable, he said to himself. Peace and quiet? That wasn’t an option.

  “I’m going to have to leave you on your own,” he said as they neared the door. “Just ask the staff for what you want. Food. A brandy. Anything. Kaplan and Polano should be along fairly soon, but don’t worry about them. The dowager’s men are with them.”

  “Understood,” Jase said.

  The doors opened before they reached them. His major domo Narani and Narani’s assistant Jeladi, likely alerted by Banichi or Jago via the ordinary systems, welcomed them into the foyer.

  Home. Definitely. The door shut and now they were safe. The relaxation of tension in his bodyguard was more than palpable—he heard soft clicks as safeties went on firearms, and rattles as rifles went into a safer position for transit down narrow inner hallways. Bags of gear thumped down gently to the polished foyer floor.

  And he so wished he could postpone everything, go to bed, let his aishid work on the problem, and wake up tomorrow with everything that was wrong in the world on its way to resolution.

  But that wasn’t the way it had to work, and his bodyguard had had enough to handle in the last two days.

  Others of the servants were standing in the inner hall, and in the sitting room, which opened out onto the foyer, all ready to help them with hand baggage, coats, clothing—food, if he wanted it.

  “Jase-aiji will be our guest for a number of days, Rani-ji. His aishid, Kaplan and Polano—you remember them—will be up in a moment. If not, they may need assistance. We are exhausted beyond clear thinking, and Banichi has taken a wound.”

  “Indeed. One regrets it,” Narani said.

  “Most of our baggage is delayed. There was a little difficulty at Tirnamardi. The wardrobe will come in crates. There are three human children guesting with the young gentleman in Lord Tatiseigi’s apartment.” That was a bombshell, but the old man only lifted a brow, hearing it. “We shall have the honor of Jase-aiji’s company; and we are not yet informed what guests the aiji-dowager will choose for herself, but one suspects that she will keep close watch over several persons we have taken in custody, so security will be extremely close, on this floor. Komaji of Ajuri is dead, you may have heard, and we do not know by what agency. The dowager is holding Aseida of the Kadagidi under arrest, pending the aiji’s decision in his case.” He drew breath and said, conscious of the juxtaposition, and feeling that his own sanity was questionable: “The birthday party is, as far as we know, still on schedule.”

  It took a bit to astonish Narani. Or Jeladi.

  “Indeed, nandi,” Narani said, to news signifying a complete overturn of power in the Padi Valley—and Tatiseigi’s sudden hospitality toward human children. “We were startled by your arrival, but we shall have no trouble serving at any hour, and we are well supplied in foodstuffs to assist Lord Tatiseigi’s staff with the human guests. —Jase-aiji.” The last was simple politeness, with a little bow—indeed, Narani knew Jase well. “We are honored.”

  The penultimate two of their party arrived with hand baggage, Koharu and Supani, themselves in need of rest, and the doors opened and shut again.

  “Do not wait to attend me,” Bren said to the pair. “Rest. Just rest. Be waited upon yourselves, nadiin-ji. You have indisputably earned it.”

  Reliable staff was around them, and Banichi and the rest could ordinarily head for the back hall and their own quarters, with staff to carry the gear, and the prospect of beds, bath, food, whatever they most wanted, not to mention information—at least as much as they dared pass about their return . . . but . . .

  “I have one more matter to attend,” Bren said. Banichi immediately gave him an attentive look—and he shook his head. “No, Nichi-ji. You go to bed. Rest. Jago-ji, stay with him. Be sure he does. One intends only a courtesy call next door, but one cannot say whether the aiji will have a few questions. And well he may. —Jase-ji, brandy or bed, as you choose. Tano-ji, Gini-ji. Kindly come with me.”

  He went back to the door. Jeladi opened it before he reached it, and he was in the hall with Tano and Algini before he realized his astonished staff had not even managed to get him into a clean coat. His clothes were in the last stage of travel-frayed and probably beyond saving. He was an utter disgrace—but if he looked disgraceful enough, Tabini’s staff might just take a message. Ideally all he had to do was knock at the door, ask Tabini’s staff to inform Tabini that they were back and safe, and say that he would have a full report in the morning.

  Then he would take his two exhausted bodyguards home and fall on his face.

  Tano knocked. Tabini-aiji’s major domo opened the door.

  Bren bowed, “We are back safely, nadi,” he managed to say.

  “Nandi,” the major domo said, “please come i
n.”

  “One is far from presentable, nadi. Please offer my excuses. Assure the aiji that the young gentleman, the aiji-dowager, and the guests are all safe.”

  “The aiji has asked to see you in his study immediately, nandi.”

  Did the paidhi-aiji, the aiji’s personal intermediary and diplomat, wreak havoc on a major clan and not explain the matter?

  Possibly a message from the dowager had beaten him here, during the few moments he had taken in his foyer.

  Or possibly the news services were already full of what had happened to the Kadagidi lord—the Kadagidi lord’s servants had gone down to the township and their discretion was unlikely.

  Absent that, they had had to let Bujavid security know they were back. And Tabini would naturally ask what in hell all the people he thought were safe and happy in Tirnamardi were doing back in the Bujavid.

  Well, so—he summoned up the scraps of his fortitude, and let himself be escorted down the short hall from the foyer. He let the servant knock and open the door to Tabini’s office, and he quietly tucked the tea-stained lace into his coat cuff before he entered.

  Tabini-aiji was at his desk—Tabini gave him a sharp look with those pale eyes that made courtiers squirm; and Bren gave the requisite short bow.

  “Aiji-ma.” He offered the good news first, to ease any worry. “We are back. We are safe.”

  Tabini drew a deep breath. “My grandmother arrested Lord Aseida this morning and blew up his house.”

  “A window of his house, aiji-ma, to be exact. And it was Jase-aiji’s guard who fired.”

  “Jase-aiji’s guard.”

  So much they had swallowed up behind their security blackout.

  “Jase-aiji accompanied the three children down, and brought two of his own bodyguard. We were all at Lord Tatiseigi’s estate, enjoying his hospitality, aiji-ma, when two Dojisigi Assassins were roused out of hiding. They surrendered, and reported they had been coerced into an unFiled attempt on Lord Tatiseigi’s life. Their relatives were held hostage by the Shadow Guild, and they had been sent on the last stage of their mission from the Kadagidi estate.”