Conspirator

“You would not wish me to do so,” Jago said. “I would be honest.”

“Tano, then.”

“He will not be much more pleased.”

“Tano and Algini. They can understand what they hear.”

“Some on the dowager’s staff can do so. The dowager herself, one suspects, Bren-ji.”

“Nevertheless,” he said. “Nevertheless, Jago-ji, one makes one’s own provisions. I do not want Toby in difficulty. Make Tano and Algini understand this.” Algini’s hand was painful, and a little light duty would, he thought, be the best thing over the next several days.

“One will explain matters, Bren-ji,” Jago said, and a moment later: “I would actually do this duty, if you asked.”

“I know you would, but should never have to.”

They went to bed. Jago’s body was always a few degrees warmer than his. He apologized, on this particular night, but Jago pulled him close and evened out the difference.

It was soon very warm in bed. And he was out in minutes.

Chapter 9

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It ought to have been a leisurely morning. It might have been, had the dowager not been in residence; but Ilisidi took her breakfast at the crack of dawn, and, detecting the stir in the household, Bren got up, which consequently meant more stir in the household, and in the staff.

And that meant the youngsters got up, and once the youngsters were up, nobody was fated to get much sleep.

So in fairly decent time, Toby and Barb arrived at table, too, to meet a truly formal and large atevi breakfast, with staff attending, and bodyguards and attendants properly on duty.

Staff had mightily exerted themselves in the breakfast offering, with the aiji-dowager as their guest—there were eleven items, from grain porridge to fresh fish, eggs, and toast, and the aiji-dowager took to all of them with evident pleasure.

Which was good to see. Ilisidi was in high good humor, which was a great benefit in dealing with Barb and Toby. Cajeiri was on spectacularly good behavior, took particular care of his ma

“One tries,” Cajeiri said, in great frustration, “one tries, mani-ma, and things fall over.”

“One believes you exude a vibration,” Ilisidi said, “from the effort of sitting still. Well caught, Great-grandson.”

“Mani-ma.” A little bow of the head.

“Are you through? You may be excused. You know you have a duty to do today.”

“Yes, mani!” Cajeiri got up—thumping the table in his haste to be proper, shaking all the water goblets up and down, and gave a little bow to try to cover that, a bow to his great-grandmother, and to Bren, and to Toby and Barb, last of all to his great-grandmother again, and then he left, back to the halls, drawing his two companions with him.

Toby and Barb hadn’t said a thing, a novel and pleasant behavior on Barb’s part—who couldn’t understand a word of the conversation, and Bren was very grateful. Predictably, Barb’s temper had vanished in the excitement, and all seemed smoothed over there.

“So,” the aiji-dowager said, in the waning of the meal, during which one might properly discuss light business, “you are off to Kajiminda this afternoon, nand’ paidhi?”

“Yes, aiji-ma. The arrangement is made. We may take tea, but no more, as we anticipate: we shall pay our respects and be off. One begs your indulgence for leaving you.”

“We shall enjoy the gardens and the coast. Cenedi and I shall walk down to the shore today and no doubt find a shell or two of a sort our Eastern lake does not provide.”

“One begs the aiji-dowager to avail herself of whatever diversion or comfort this estate can provide.”

“We plan to, we hope without inconvenience to your other guests.”

“There can only be felicity in the aiji-dowager’s presence.”

“Especially since we have recovered my great-grandson from his folly. Tell these persons of your house that we recognize them for their assistance in this latest event as well as the prior, and invite them to take luncheon with us.”

A great and appalling honor, one he conveyed with a nod to the dowager and, turning to Toby and Barb: “The dowager has just thanked you for your help finding her great-grandson and for your assistance getting to the mainland in the first place. Understand, her thanks is a very, very high honor in itself, and one an atevi house would memorialize in family records. More than that, she asks you to lunch with her. We are speaking of international relations, treaties, and peace here. There will be limited translation. You should appear in your ordinary clothes and the servants will cue you. Tano and Algini will attend you and supply some translation. I am so sorry to leave you. I have no choice, considering the relations with our neighbor. Pleasebe extremely formal. This is beyond any state di

“Understood,” Toby said. “Best coat, best ma

“Best,” Barb said.

“Rely on the servants. Rely on the servants to cue you. And Tano and Algini. They will. If they ask you to do something, please don’t even question. Just do it.”

“I swear we won’t embarrass you, Bren.”

“I know you won’t,” Bren said, “or I wouldn’t leave you here, because it is that important, Toby, Barb. You both take care, will you?”

“Sure,” Toby said. “We’re pretty well done eating. Can we excuse ourselves out? Or should we sit a while?”

Bren turned to Ilisidi. “They consider the honor you offer extravagant, are very grateful and will of course be at luncheon. They ask, too, if they may gracefully retire now—atevi portions are somewhat generous for us, aiji-ma, and one believes they have become somewhat over-full.”

Ilisidi waved a hand in good humor. “Well enough, well enough. We look forward to the event.” Her expression instantly became businesslike, Ilisidi suddenly bent on a point she wished more urgently to carry. “One expects a full report on your return, nand’ paidhi, on this nephew of Geigi’s. One believes Lord Geigi himself would appreciate a report.”

“One will pay greatest attention to details, aiji-ma.”

“Then you, also, will wish to proceed, to be back in good season.”

“Yes, aiji-ma.” That was a dismissal from table, an urging to pursue his day’s business without worry, and he meant to do exactly that. He rose, bowed, leaving the table, and the remnant of the excellent breakfast, to the dowager.

He had, first, of course, to gather up Cajeiri and the Taibeni youngsters, pass on their attire—which proved far better than he had hoped. The servants informed him that all three—actually, probably Cajeiri, to do him credit—had had the foresight to pack something decently formal, in case ma

“So,” he said as they gathered in the hallway, near the front doors, “we shall drive over to the neighbors’, pay our respects, have tea, and be back in time for supper. We shall not likely dine there tonightc possible, but unlikely.” If it had been Lord Geigi, no question he would have expected di