Destroyer

Not a sound from the young people, not a question from Cajeiri, not a twitch.

Then a rustle of someone moving along the bank. “Nandi.”

Tano.

“Tano-ji?”

“We have gotten one of them, nandi, who may well be the last.”

“Are you all right?”

“No injury, nandi. Put the weapons down, nadiin.” This, to the children tucked down in the dark. “Come down, but keep low.”

A pale glimmer. The two Taibeni wore dark clothing. Cajeiri had come out on this venture in light trousers, his beige human-style jacket that was the warmest thing he had—and an absolute liability in the dark.

“Nadiin.” From Algini, whose approach Bren had not heard, a realization that set his heart pounding. “Gather the tack and supplies.”

Mechieti were coming back down, brush crackling under that shadow-flood of bodies. Bren judged it safe to stand up, and did, on legs strained from the u

Then:

“Gunfire,” Jago said from somewhere above him.

Bren could hear nothing at all. It must be distant.

“Tirnamardi?” he asked, a leaden chill settling about his heart.

“Yes,” Jago said. “Whether at the gate or further east, I ca

“Saddle our spares,” Banichi said. “We have no time to sit here.”

General movement. It took perhaps a quarter-hour more to pick out three mechieti from the herd and saddle them.

“Antaro-nadi,” Banichi said.

“Nadi.” Antaro’s young voice, in the dark.

“Have you that gun, young woman?”

“Yes, nadi, I have one, and nand’ Cajeiri has the other. And I have the com unit.”

“Put them all away. They betray your position. Rely on your guard. Ride at all times to the paidhi’s left, never otherwise. He knows where to ride relative to our weapons. Do not make a mistake in that regard, any of you. Someone could die for it.”

“I shall try, Banichi-nadi.” From Cajeiri, with a certain dignity.

“Never mind trying,” Banichi said sternly. “Do, young sir. Do. Get up. Do you need help getting up?”

“I shall do it myself,” Cajeiri said. “I have done it.”

Bren worked his own way close to the herd, located Jago’s shadow against the sky and located a mechieti with an empty saddle. He thought it was his, and by the scrollwork on the saddle, it seemed to be. He got it to extend a leg and bow down, and he heaved himself, stiff and sore, belly down across the saddle, then straightened around, got his left foot in position at the curve of the neck and unsecured the guiding rein. Everyone else was up, by then, and without another word, they started moving, climbing the other slope, passing through the greatest likelihood of further ambush. Bren’s heart beat like a hammer while they passed that zone.

“Are we going to Taiben?” Cajeiri asked.

“Hush!” Jago’s voice, sharply, to a boy, who, if he was not shot in the next hour, might be aiji.

And who, having spent so much time away from geographic referents, away from any subtle sense of the land, or the clues of the heavens, had trouble telling what direction they were riding. Cajeiri was lost. Terrible things had happened to so much bright enthusiasm. The maneuver the boys had believed would be a grand adventure and a great success had turned very dark indeed, and there was no mending it, only staying alive.

But after they had passed that region, after Banichi and Jago had exchanged a few quiet words, Bren found Cajeiri and the Taibeni riding next to him.

“Young gentleman?”

“Nand’ Bren?”

“We are riding toward Taiben. The Kadigidi have attacked your great-uncle’s house, and those of us who might help defend it are out here.”

“Finding help!”

“Finding help, yes. But you should know it is well possible, young gentleman, that your encounter was not chance. Your enemies found you by means of your great-uncle’s unsecured com system. Messages flew back and forth, unsecured, trying to prevent your going out here. It was not well done, young gentleman.”

“And they might have ambushed Antaro and the escort all the same, nandi!”

Oh, the heir was not as beaten down as one might expect. He was his father’s son. And his mother’s. And that burgeoning arrogance, if unchecked, could get others killed.

“Consult. Consult Banichi and Cenedi, young sir. Consult me. If your young staff had reason for misgivings about the mission, you should have told us, not gone off, stealing mechieti, lying to the stable staff—”

“Grandmother would never have let me go.”

“And do you think there was no reason for us to refuse such a request, nadi? And was there an excuse for lying to us?”

“When asking does no good!”

“Except that Antaro is Taibeni and might have accomplished this mission with a certain finesse which one does not see evident in our current circumstance, young sir.”

“Except if Antaro was ambushed. And she was. And the escort would never listen to her opinions, or take her as important. And Cenedi thinks there are spies in the house. If I tell Banichi, Banichi tells you, you tell grandmother, grandmother tells Lord Tatiseigi and he tells his staff, and then the Kadigidi know everything you do, nandi. Maybe they can overhear the com units, but maybe, too, someone just told them.”

It was a very sharp young wit, and a certain command of language. One saw his father.

“That may be, young sir, but there are always ways to consult in secret.”

“No one uses them with me! No one takes us seriously! The Atageini would not listen even to me when I said we should keep going. They said we would sleep til dawn and I said they were fools! Now the Kadigidi are at the house attacking my grandmother, and it will be another day before we can even get to Taiben, let alone back again!”

“You are certainly right in that,” he had to admit. “But mechieti are not machines. They have to rest, and sooner or later, we will have to.”

“One does regret very much that the guards are dead,” Cajeiri said after a moment—a boy who had just shot at a man, killed him, and seen two decent men go down protecting him… never mind they had not done wisely.

“As one should always regret such an event,” Bren said, and let it go. The boy had passed from deep shock to a reasonable, shaken outrage at the situation. Only eight. Only eight, with physical strength exceeding an adult human’s and with two followers who had served only as a slight anchor on his high and wide decisions—an especially slight restraint in an Atageini hall whose lord radiated detestation of his Taibeni escort, and Ilisidi herself had maneuvered for advantage with that very powerful lord’s opinions.

Had that been Cajeiri’s i

Not an accurate assessment of his great-grandmother, if that was the case, and Tatiseigi himself knew his old feuds with the Taibeni counted for nothing with Ilisidi. But he kept his mouth shut on further argument with the boy on that score.

“Well put, with the boy, Bren-ji,” Jago found the opportunity to say when they did dismount and take a breather. They were shifting saddles about, his bodyguard trading their gear to others of the herd, except only the herd leader, who constantly carried, at least, Jago’s lighter weight. She slid down to stretch her legs, keeping the herd leader at very short rein.

“One never knows, Jago-ji, what to say to him.”

“Someone should listen to these young people,” Jago said, uncommon criticism of, Bren thought, the dowager’s dealings with her grandson. “Tano has tried.”

“How should I advise them?”

“Exactly as you have.”

“I gave them no advice at all, nadi.”