Conspirator

They waited there, just a little, as Saidaro pulled Jeishanout and Toby brought the Brighter Daysin. The heavens cracked with lightning and water sheeted down as Jago joined them, first off that boat. She also looked exhausted, her ordinarily immaculate hair stringing a bit loosely about the ears.

The rain pelted down, cold, numbing cold, as they trudged up the long terraced climb to the house, and the shelter of the portico and the welcoming light of their own front door was a beautiful sight. Staff was waiting to take coats and whisk them to hot baths the moment they arrivedc almost.

The aiji-dowager, with her cane, walked out into the entry hall to meet them, to bend a disapproving look on her great-grandson, and lastly to nod slowly at Bren, and at his aishid. “Well,” she said, “nand’ paidhi, will you take a brandy after your bath?”

“Very gladly,” he said, “aiji-ma.” It was very courteous of her, all things considered—it was beyond courteous: it was magnanimous, addressed to the author of her second aborted flight, the caretaker of her great-grandson. Physically, he would rather have fallen into bed. Mentally—he would not turn that honor down, even if it came with a stern warning.

He took a quick, almost a scandalously quick dip and scrub in the large marble tub: he came out steaming, and still feeling chill at the core, while menservants wrapped him in towels, and stood ready with a dressing gown. Jago awaited the other bath—Toby and Barb had come up to the house, and were using it, directly after the youngsters, who had taken it in sequence.

“Nand’ Toby and Barb-daja—together?” he had asked Supani, and received an affirmative.

At least it would speed Jago’s access to hot water, he thought. Banichi and Tano and Algini meanwhile had insisted on waiting their turn for the tub—Algini had been icing his bruised hand; and he insisted now that they go on in and stay there. “Please have your bath and take your time about it, nadiin-ji,” he said wryly. “The youngsters have had their bath. My brother and his lady will be out soon, Jago will finally have her turn, and if the aiji-dowager intends a justified assassination, I should have known by now.”

“Nandi,” Tano protested.

“A joke, Tano-ji, a joke. One promises to tell you every detail of the meeting.”

“Yes,” Banichi said, the simple weary yes of an order taken, mission accepted. “But if you will hear counsel, Bren-ji, do not accept blame. It was your bodyguard that failed you.”

“My bodyguard never failed me, ’Nichi-ji, though one appreciates the motive of the suggestion. Naively assuming the boy was where he should have been, I gave orders that brought you to mein the very confusion our young scoundrel used in his escape, and one will report that fact as it stands. Patience in our young guest was not likely, given the promise, and the circumstances. The servant I posted in the hall had naturally run to see to the lady. And I do not wish to express, at the moment, my vexation with the lady. So no more of this. Into the bath with you. Koharu!”

The servant, waiting at the door, held his dressing gown.

“Brandy or whatever else my bodyguard wants,” he said. “The best for them. And Banichi, acceptit.”

“Bren-ji.” A nod from Banichi. “But you will nottake all blame, Bren-ji. One will speak to Cenedi.”

“No,” he said shortly. It was as close as he and Banichi had ever come to an outright argument, and he meant to win it. “This is my personal embarrassment, and I refuse to share it, ’Nichi-ji, I outright refuse.”

“Nandi.” A bow. Banichi gave in, not that Banichi was notreserving the option to talk to Cenedi about the event. Banichi shed the bathrobe to Supani’s hands and stepped into the bathc so with the rest, while Bren belted on his dressing gown and sat down on the bench.

The tub overflowed into its side drains as three replaced one, sinking deep into the warmth and washing the salt off. Bren let Supani braid back his hair in a simple damp knot, even while his bodyguard took to vigorous scrubbing and sloshed warm water over his bare feet. Brandy arrived, with a set of three serving glasses, and none of them turned that down.

“One has requested the same for Jago-nadi,” Koharu reported with a little bow. “One hopes this was intended, nandi.”

“Indeed,” he said. He was exhausted. He was assuming things, leaning on his staff to do his thinking. The distress of an argument with Banichi had rattled him. But his bodyguard was taken care of. The youngsters, his brother, Barb, and now Jago—all were settled.

He was going to ache in the morning. Amazing how fighting the wheel had taken it out of him. Maybe it had been the death grip he had maintained on it throughout, to and from.

Things were better now, much better.

Koharu provided dry slippers, then, clear of the slosh zone, he headed back to his room to dress informallyc informally, that was, by Bujavid standards: one did notvisit the aiji-dowager in one’s bathrobe, not by a mile.

“One is so glad, nandi,” Koharu ventured to say as they entered his rooms.

“How arethe youngsters?” He had not inspected them for bruises and injuries, but news of such would fly fast among the staff. “Are they well?”

“A few scrapes, nandi,” Supani said. “And a few blisters— the young gentleman particularly. But no more than that.”

Cajeiri had been at the tiller, managing the boat: likely he had been, the whole time. Brave kid: he’d done all right, past the initial flurry of young, overconfident mistakes. He’d done just all right. And hadn’t said a word about the blisters. Probably hadn’t felt them until he’d warmed up.

So the young gentleman and his aishid had gotten out with blisters and probably were going to be just as sore, and the aiji-dowager was, meanwhile, waiting, with her bodyguard, in the sitting room. He gathered himself together, put on a proper indoor coat, and went out and down the hall to the study, where the dowager waited, to give his accounting.

He entered, past one of the dowager’s young men, who stood guard. Cenedi, Ilisidi’s chief of security, rose from his chair as he came in, a warming token of respect to the house, in lieu of Ilisidi rising, which the aiji-dowager did not. She sat, cane in hand, and Bren came and gave a deeper than usual bow.

“Nand’ dowager. One is extremely regretful—”

“Oh, posh. The Guildca

“All the samec” He had his facts assembled. He was ready to give his account.

“We have heard the entire tale, nand’ paidhi, the promised sailing trip, the phone call from the islandc Barb-daja’s distressc”

He feared he blushed. He earnestly tried not to, and bowed again. “One is extremely sorry, aiji-ma, that things under my management went so very wrong.”

“Oh, sit down,” Ilisidi said with a move of the cane. So he sat, which meant Cenedi could sit down, and Ramaso and staff, frozen until now near the doorway, could move in with the dowager’s requested brandy. Ramaso gave a bow, the servants served the brandy to the dowager, to him, and to Cenedi, in that order, and Bren caught Ramaso’s eye and nodded a dismissal for all staff.

So the first several sips of brandy went down in genteel silence and composure. It was fire on a raw throat, and then comfort, all the way down.

“We have decided we shall stay a few days,” Ilisidi said, then, “and escort my great-grandson back to the capital in person. We shall not deprive him of his promised holiday, despite this disgraceful behavior. But we shall not place such a burden on your staff. It is a pleasant venue, what little we have seen of it. We look forward to its garden and its views.”

“You honor this house,” Bren said, which was pro forma, but it was also true: the household staff would be extremely excited to host the aiji-dowager. “Any hospitality we can offerc”