Destroyer

Tatiseigi was his problem.

So down the hall they went, down the stairs, and to the lower-level balcony, where an Atageini servant directed them to a right turn, down through a dining room. The double doors at the end of the room were open, and Ilisidi and Tatiseigi were already at breakfast out there, with suitable attendance of bodyguards lined up formally along the end of the dining room… including, one could not but notice, young Antaro, meaning that Cajeiri was at breakfast, meaning that the younger set had, just like their elders, prudently seen to room security, one of them remaining behind to keep the premises secure… and meaning that uncle Tatiseigi was probably a

Not fools, the two Taibeni youngsters, Bren said to himself.

He approved, though he worried about youngsters who might think they could take action in crisis, and who might get themselves in the way of Guild action, trammeling up his bodyguard and Ilisidi’s, who did know what they were doing.

But—in the light of his thoughts of the morning—might one think that uncle Tatiseigi had reasons to think spies!

He walked out the double doors, onto a terrace under morning sun, a painted railing of—what else?—wrought-brass lilies, and a beautifully laid table, with a large bouquet of seasonal flowers, mostly mauve, with sprigs of evergreen, three in number, which said a wealth of things, if the paidhi had the skill to unravel it—he almost did, if he had had one more level of his brain to spare for wondering. Their host was there, Ilisidi, and Cajeiri, demanding instant attention.

He went to the empty chair, bowed slightly. “Apologies, nandiin, for my tardiness.” Nods. He sat down. Servants moved to offer him eggs—those, he accepted, since they were in the shell, and free of sauces. Toast was perfectly fine, and oh, so good—and steaming tea, which came most welcome of all in the bracing chill.

“My compliments to the staff and the cook,” he said, the proper courtesy, “who have done extravagantly hard work to make a visitor comfortable and safe.”

“Indeed,” Tatiseigi said. “We should hardly wish to poison a guest.”

“We favor nand’ Bren extremely,” Cajeiri said sharply, out of turn, “and if someone poisoned him we would take it very ill.”

Silent attention followed this pointed remark, not exactly what Bren would have chosen as a conversation opener.

“We thank the young gentleman,” Bren said, “but we have no complaint at all. Lord Tatiseigi’s hospitality is flawless.”

Ilisidi snorted, but made no comment.

This was not going at all well. Bren reached for toast for his eggs, wondering what he had walked into, and dared not intervene in the tension between the dowager and her former—one thought, former—lover. If this was something like a domestic dispute in progress, a stray human was by no means welcome.

“The paidhi recognizes our delicate position,” Tatiseigi said, “does he not? We have inconvenience on every border. Delicate alliances are rendered precarious by your arrival. Our very lives are at hazard, not to mention the interests of the central provinces, which we have carefully safeguarded.”

“May one assume our grandson and his consort quitted this place under their host’s invitation?”

“No such thing!” Tatiseigi banged down his spoon, and tea quivered in the cups. “Perverse woman!”

“One deems it an entirely fair question,” Ilisidi said. She trisected a hardboiled egg with surgical precision, speared a portion and popped it into her mouth. “Under the circumstances of such extreme threat as you describe, one considers even the Atageini might tremble, with southern scoundrels in the ascendant, possessed of records and resources in the capital.”

“Piffle,” Tatiseigi snorted. “You will give them another half year of unity, ’Sidi-ji. You invigorate them by your presence. If you had frittered away any more time in the heavens they would have been at each others’ throats.”

“And the whole region would collapse in bloody ruin, which would by no means be to your advantage, Tati-ji.”

“The Atageini need nothing from the outside. We never have!”

Another snort. “Nor does Malguri.” Her own holding, which had equally primitive plumbing. “But our walls are ill-prepared for war, this century. One had rather not stand siege from airplanes.”

“There would be no such siege. There would not have been, if you had stayed up in—wherever it is, up there.”

“Oh, say on! Do you think the Kadigidi will go on flattering an old fool?”

“Disagreeable woman!”

“So you say throats will be cut in the capital, once the conspirators fall out. Granted, of course, granted, and they will. But whose throats, say. And where are the knives being sharpened? The southerners are the foreigners in these central regions, here at invitation. And which of the central provinces have bedded down closest with these southern fools? And who will do the throat-cutting when complacency takes hold? The Kadigidi will cry ‘Foreigners on our land!’ and be at them in short order. Will they not, Tati-ji? And they will rouse up the central provinces, and they will lead, taking an even firmer grip than they have now, while you have no daughter of your house married into that line, do you, Tati-ji?”

“Damn your nattering! This is breakfast, no time for business! You insult my table!”

“I merely point out—”

“Oh, point out and point out, do! Do you say we are fools who never saw these matters for ourselves!”

“Absolutely not. We have come under your roof, have we not? We had every confidence that the Atageini would not be swayed by Kadigidi blandishments. These are excellent preserves, Tati-ji.”

Tatiseigi took a mouthful of eggs. “Empty flattery, and you mean not a word of it.”

“Everyone can do with a little flattery, so long as it stays close to truth. You were always too wise for your neighbors. And remain so, we believe, or we would not have come here first and foremost.”

“Not first! You sojourned with the Taibeni!”

“Taiben lies between your land and the coast, Tati-ji, and always has. We received assistance, yes. Would you expect otherwise? But we came to you, having received a report—from the Taibeni—that you held out very bravely.”

“Ha! One doubts those are the words.”

“An approximation. In these times, Taiben respects you, and respects your borders. And joins you in disapprobation of your neighbors to the east.”

“The Kadigidi are fools and troublemakers. And bed down with other fools. That whelp of Direiso’s… ”

“Murini.”

“… had the extreme effrontery to write a letter to this house, under his seal, attempting to enlist us.”

Ilisidi pursed her lips, above the rim of her cup. “Did you pitch his man onto the step, Tati-ji?”

“I was very cordial, and temporized.” Another spoonful of sauce. The paidhi ate very quietly, meanwhile, listening to all this extraordinary flow of confidences and not rattling so much as a cup. Cajeiri sat likewise quiet, those keen ears taking in everything, remarkable patience for a boy. Definitely, Bren thought, Cajeiri showed the qualities that created his father.

“So what was the gist of this impertinent letter?” Ilisidi asked.

“They wanted to use the Atageini name, can you imagine? We explained to these fools that since a daughter of this house is their quarry, we would either take command of the search and the campaign or we would tastefully abstain and make our demands clear if they should find her. For some reason they did not immediately cede the search to us, and seemed confused by our rebuke.”

Ilisidi snorted, short, dark laughter. “Wicked man.”

“This generation has no sense. Do you hear, great-grandnephew? ”

“Sir.” Cajeiri was caught with a mouthful of toast.

“Why are they fools?”

A rapid swallow. “Because the Atageini hate them, and they wrote a stupid letter, grand-uncle.”