Deceiver

There was a lot to go over, depending on Machigi’s patience.

And it had just become paradoxically important for Tabini’s men out there, even if Tabini had Filed on Machigi, to protect Machigi’s life and property.

They urgently needed to make a few phone calls, among other things. But the paidhi hadn’t much energy left, and he wasn’t totally sure he was thinking clearly, not once his head hit the pillow.

Jago came in, a shadowy presence, and sat on the edge of the bed.

He’d opened his eyes. In the light from the door, with atevi night vision, she knew he was awake.

“The situation remains quiet, Bren-ji. When you wish, in the morning, we shall request the Filing on Machigi be terminated without comment. And we shall, from our present position, request a further delay in any Guild deliberations regarding the Marid, pending further information—if you can secure permission for two phone calls. We had rather use the phones and have Lord Machigi completely aware of what we say—lest there be any doubt.”

“One is very grateful,” he said.

Jago hadn’t come to bed. There were some things that might be rumors regarding the paidhi-aiji, but he would not expect her to flaunt their relationship under a foreign roof.

And considering the fact they were surely being monitored— she had said exactly what his bodyguard had officially decided Machigi’s men should hear. And she was still awake and in uniform. His bodyguard would sleep by turns, he was relatively certain of that. They probably wouldn’t trust the exhausted junior for a solo watchc but let her have the night for uninterrupted sleep: likely not.

He shut his own eyes, exhausted.

“Rest, Bren-ji,” Jago said.

“I shall be fine in the morning, Jago-ji,” he said, and gave his bodyguard no orders, none at all, trusting they knew exactly what they were doing, from now on until morning.

23

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Nand’ Toby had been restless all night—not asking a great deal, true, but he was awake, and uncomfortable, and Cajeiri, who had bedded down on a pallet on the floor beside Antaro and Jegari, saw him fussing with the blankets.

He really, truly wanted to sleep. They had all been late going to bed, what with the worry about nand’ Bren.

But while the servant in attendance—who sat on the chair over in the corner—got up to see to the blankets, it was probably a good idea, Cajeiri thought, for the only one who could talk to nand’ Toby to at least find out if he needed anything.

“Bathroom,” Toby said, and put a foot over the edge, and got up on his good arm. “I can walk.”

“He wants to walk to the accommodation, nadi,” Cajeiri said. “Please assist him. By no means allow him to fall.”

Jegari and Antaro had waked, too, with worried, weary looks in the dim light.

“He says he can walk,” Cajeiri said, “but go with them, Gari-ji. Open doors for them.”

“Yes,” Jegari said, and immediately got up—he was sleeping in his clothes: they all did, except Cajeiri had hung his coat on a nail by the door, so he could be fit to face Great-grandmother if he had to. The lace on his shirt was all limp, and the shirt was a mess. But he could get another shirt before breakfast.

“What time is it, do you think?” he asked Antaro, and Antaro got up and went out to the hall. One wanted so badly to fold right down into the blankets again and just try not to think about what was going on in the world, which was not good, and which he had been trying notto tell nand’ Toby.

Who had gotten onto his feet, and was walking, and was going to be asking questions today.

One truly did not want to have to answer when he did.

Maybe it would be a really good idea not to be here when nand’ Toby got back. If there was nobody nand’ Toby could ask, there were things nand’ Toby would not have to find out yet.

He got up, brushed wrinkles out of his trousers, and Antaro came right back in.

“Nandi, Cook is serving breakfast!”

Late. Disastrously late. “Let us go find clean shirts,” he said, reaching for his boots. He struggled into them as quickly as he could, while Antaro put on her own. “Mani will expect me.”

“Yes,” she said, and helped him on with his coat. She was putting on her own as they cleared the door and ducked down the hall toward the stairs, half-ru

It was not wholly cowardly, he said to himself. He wantedto find out things before he had to worry nand’ Toby about them. And he and Antaro scurried out into the upstairs hall—

And came face to face with Great-grandmother and Cenedi, just outside the dining hall.

His hair was a mess. His coat covered a ruined shirt, and only partly hid trousers just as wrinkled.

“Well,” Great-grandmother said.

He bowed. Deeply. “Mani, one is in search of clean clothes. One is exceedingly sorry.”

“How is nand’ Toby this morning?”

“Better. Better, mani-ma.” That was a piece of news. “He got out of bed this morning. He walked.”

“Nand’ Bren will be very glad to know that.” Great-grandmother looked pleased in the way she had when she had a secret. Then she said: “The paidhi has engaged Lord Machigi, who is negotiating, apparently in good faith. But you are not to tell nand’ Toby where he is. Now go change your clothes, Great-grandson.”

“Yes!” Cajeiri said, and bowed deeply and walked away— not toward the room where his clothes were, but back toward the stairs. He kept walking all the way to the servant stairs, and Antaro stayed right behind him.

But once they had gotten onto the stairs and Antaro shut the hall door behind them, he took the steps two at a time, and the two of them ran down the basement hall full tilt, startling two servants with serving trays and a third with an armful of laundry.

“Excuse us,” Cajeiri called out, delaying on one foot, then ran on to nand’ Toby’s room, absolutely brimming over with the best news there could be.

And he could not say a single thing about it.

Except maybe to tell nand’ Toby that mani had heard from nand’ Bren, and that things were all right.

Or would be. Nand’ Bren and Banichi could do anything. He had the greatest confidence in it.

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