Conspirator

That would be the whole village.

c Please accept this gesture with the paidhi’s personal wishes for felicity and prosperity.

Barb’s tab for the morning had run to, oh, a considerable figure. The ensemble Barb had admired would have to be burned, and a new gown made, to purge the taint of envy and criticism from the child. For the rest, he’d meant to offer Toby fuel and resupply, he wasn’t sorry to have Toby have the knife, and if Barb’s new atevi clothes, the clothes she’d actually bought in that shop, pleased the pair of themc well, good, he thought. Worse could have happened. The girl would have the birthday of her dreams, the village would be happy: over all it added up to felicity, and that, on the most superstitious of occasions, the entry of a child onto the fringe of adult society, was the important thing.

So when it came to supper, he even fell into the spirit of the occasion by kitting Toby up in one of his less formal coats—the trousers were impossible—and the shirt and coat were a close call: Toby was a little stouter below, and his seafaring life had given him a greater breadth of shoulder than one gained sitting at a desk, never mind the exercise the paidhi attempted to take.

“I swear I’m going to have it in the soup,” Toby said, apprehensive of the lace cuffs. “Bren, God knows what Barb’s outfit cost this morning. I don’t want to ruin a shirt for you.”

“I’ve spilled a little soup in my career,” Bren said. The two of them were in his bedroom, with Koharu and Supani standing by to adjust the coat. “You use the wrist, turn the hand and lift when you reach for your wineglass—drop the fingers, pick up the glass. Keeps the lace right out of the soup bowl. I’m not kidding.”

“Turn and lift, huh?” Toby gave it a try. The lace wrapped onto his wrist in a decently elegant gesture. “Hmn.”

“Works as a gesture, too, just the half-reach. If you really want the water goblet and can’t safely cross the territory, wait till the servant takes the soup bowl out of the path: he’ll notice your signal. Nobility has some sacrifices.”

“It’s an incredible life.”

“Honestly, I don’t even think about it. I just keep my cuffs out of the soup.”

Toby laughed. “Never that successfullyc figuratively speaking. You’re always in it.”

He laughed, at the same joke, for once. “Still, I try. Shall we see if the maids have gotten Barb into that outfit?”

“I’ll check,” Toby said. “You go find the royal youngster, why don’t you?”

“No smoke has risen,” he said. “And there’s been no further sound of breakage. I’m fairly sure my bodyguard has been able to keep up with him.”

He sent a manservant to advise Banichi and the youngsters, wherever found, that supper was in the offing, and dropped by to consult Jago and Tano and Algini, who had been resting in quarters, playing dice, and actually enjoying themselves.

Deep breath. Calm. Everything was handled. He didn’t tell Jago about the ninth-year ensemble. Not on so pleasant an evening. He just met Banichi and the youngsters near the door, advised the youngsters to wash up, and looked forward to what the major domo informed him was a very extravagant effort from the kitchen.

Well, so, they would have all five courses, and helpings on an atevi scale. Time to pace oneself, or be sorry. And the lord of the place was obliged to be last to table—but he paced that, too, and contrived, with Jago and Banichi, to get himself into the dining room and settled into the conversation before Cajeiri and Toby had gotten much beyond, “You look great, nand’ Toby, Barb-daja!”

Barb got to preen in her new clothes. She had gotten herself a sea-green di

So did Banichi and Jago and Tano and Algini, with no visible weaponry. It was relaxed, Cajeiri’s youth and rank kept the conversation moderately modest. Everybody smiled, everybody appreciated the cook’s efforts and praised the meal properly, Barb didn’tlean on Toby’s shoulder at table, Toby managed not to drag his cuffs through the soup—actually managed the cuffs with a bit of flair, and the youngsters didn’t drop anything on the tablecloth.

It was splendid, all in allc given the start to the day.

“It could have been worse,” he said, finally relating the whole ninth-year ensemble problem to Jago, after hours, in bed.

A moment of silence ensued, Jago with her head on the other pillow, facing him in the darkness. Then:

“Bren-ji, this woman is a scandal.”

“She will be gone in a few days.”

“And then a birthday party! When are you to get any work done?”

He sighed, heaving upward on one elbow with Jago’s hand on his ribs. “I shall manage, Jago-ji. And by the day of the event, we shall be back in the capital, one is quite sure. There are far worse things. Farworse things. Toby and I spoke quietly and one believes we have settled some matters between us that were far more troublesome for the future.”

Jago rose up on an elbow. “Should your staff know these things?”

“Old matters. Things you do know, Jago-ji. I left on our voyage at a very unfortunate time for Toby and his household, with my mother ill. This was a potential cause of great resentment. We spoke. That was why I sent Barb to the village—to have the chance to speak to him privately. The feeling is very much better between us now. The situation with Barb—well, Barb is Barb.”

Jago said not a thing. He moved his hand on Jago’s bare shoulder.

“The tension will be better in the morning,” he said, “on the boat. Everybody will be busy, and there will be ample distraction. You may even see Toby happy. And if he is happy, one believes Barb will behave better.”

Barb and the youngsters alike would be surrounded by un-crossable water, he was thinking. Both Barb and the youngsters would be in a very good mood—the latter all bright-eyed and earnestly well-behaved. And confined to the deck.

“Come here,” he said, gathering her close. “Forget about it, Jago-ji. Tomorrow we sail out of reach of shops.”

Morning came at a leisurely pace. Jago got up, he did, Jago dressed herself and Koharu and Supani came to dress him after Jago had gone wherever Jago intended to go. None of the rest of the household was awake, except staff. And it was safe here, safe as the Bujavid never was, so he asked for his coat and walked out into the brown, dead garden to take a turn out there, watching the sun come up. The maidservant trailed him: he sent her for tea, and enjoyed a cup. Steam from it curled up into the light of dawn.

Then the rest of the house began to stir—so the servant advised him, and he came back in, invigorated and ready for breakfast—which he shared with Toby and Barb alone until the youngsters came racketing into the dining room, all bright-eyed and anxious.

They settled rapidly and were served their breakfasts. Cajeiri was being so, so good, not asking when they would go to the boat, not asking a thing, and being very elegant with his table ma