Conspirator

Thatwas the pleasant little winter home Tabini-aiji had bestowed on him some years back, and he knew Tabini had never meant him to have to cope with a mess like this—Tabini had only intended to signal the Ragi weren’t going to tolerate a Southern Association foothold on the Edi coast, which had made the Edi happy, he gathered, as better than the alternative. The paidhi was not Ragi, not Maschi, certainly not Southern— the Southerners would have cheered en masse if he’d been assassinated. And he and the village had gotten along tolerably well during the period in which the Ragi grew stronger—not a plus for the Edi—but also more peaceful. Prosperity had come to the coast, largely thanks to Lord Geigi and the aerospace plant. Everything had just gone swimmingly right for the Edi during that period.

Until the paidhi became a very absentee landlord and conspiracy threw Tabini out of office for a year. During that time the Southerners had been very active, had stuffed their pockets and gotten people in power here and there—not to mention the damned Farai had taken over the paidhi’s apartment as if the paidhi would never return. Baiji had started playing courtship games with the South, Geigi hadn’t been able to communicate with the world to find out what was going on, and the Edi serving Baiji had—one hoped—just walked out. One hoped there was no worse answerc but he might get a clue to it tonight.

He read and made notes.

And Ramaso came back to inform him the dowager andthe young gentleman would be attending.

Security problem, was his first thought, and he had been hoping halfheartedly that the dowager would decline the invitation. But so was he a security problem, as far as that went. Banichi and Jago were going to need their rest. They’d have a full complement of the dowager’s guard. That was considerable. And the dowager and the next Ragi aiji meeting with that assembly might have political reverberations far outweighing—

Another intervention. Saidarocame in from the hall, Ramaso’s second-in-command, a little ruffled, for that steady, reasonable man. He bowed.

“Couriers from the aiji’s forces have come to the door, nandi, with the papers you requested. And more. They bring two persons to be assigned to the young gentleman. Cenedi-nadi has gone to verify their credentials.”

That had the attention of both Tano and Algini, for certain. And that could be a problem. Counting the long-ru

The latest arrangement with Tabini’s security, who were generally Ragi in ethnicity—itself a noisily controversial reliance on his own clan—had seemed at least to be an improvement on the security front.

But now Tabini was going to step in and have the final say in the ongoing battle—that was going to ruffle the Atageini and the boy’s mother’s Ajuri clan, at minimum.

And to have the boy acquire Ragi-ethnicity Guildsmen just as he accepted the invitation from the Edi to go meet with them—bad timing. It could have been done when the boy got back to the capital.

Except Tabini was understandably a little disturbed to have known his son had taken unauthorized leave on a freight train, stolen a boat, and developed independent notions that had gotten him stranded in the middle of a firefight. He certainly could not blame Tabini for concluding that his son needed specifically-attached adult security. Two Taibeni teenagers were clearly not enough to exert authority. And Tabini wasthe boy’s father.

He got up from the console to go meet the aiji’s men, and, of the two, it was Algini that got up to go with him, though Tano had started to do so, until the two exchanged a glance. That was unusual: Algini was not the one who dealt with social situations; but Algini had been, until his apparent resignation from the post, very high in the Guild. In a perso

He didn’t question, just headed down the straight central hall to the group at the front door, a cluster of black uniforms like an incoming storm front, contrasted against the lighter colors of staff—Ramaso among the latter group. Among the Guild who had arrived, there was luggage, presumably belonging to the ones who were now assigned here.

Bren approached. The visiting Guildsmen, four of them, were standing with Cenedi and Nawari. They bowed, and the seniormost visitor handed him a folder.

“Nand’ paidhi,” Cenedi said, “these are close associates of Jaidiri-nadi: Elidari and Nadrasi, of the Guild.”

Jaidiri was Tabini’s chief of security: these two were the highest level currently in the field, very likely.

“Nadiin,” Bren said with a courteous nod, “the house is honored.”

“Nand’ paidhi—” The one who spoke would be the senior of the elder set, and also the one Cenedi would have named first. Elidari: a man of about middle years, smallish as Taibeni tended to be, quick-eyed and all business. “The aiji sends two persons whose man’chi is in no doubt: Vejico and Lucasi, sister and brother, of the Guild. They will attach to the heir.”

No ifs, ands, buts, or “if the dowager pleases.” Damned sure the paidhi-aiji wasn’t in a position to object, even if Algini should give him some sign in the negative.

The other pair, the younger set, bowed. They looked typical young Guild: athletic, slim, the both of them, bright-eyed, early twenties, Bren judged.

“The young gentleman is resting,” Bren said, “but staff will direct you to his quarters, which he shares with two others. Be welcome to this house.”

“Nandi.” A third bow, in exact unison, somewhat disconcerting. And they picked up their luggage, each bringing two heavy bags.

“Ramaso,” Bren said, indicating that the major domo should see to that matter, and that group moved off about their business.

“Nandi.” A bow from the senior pair.

The Guild did not expect tea and ceremony. They did what they did and they departed. The door shut.

“This team is,” Algini said, “good. One had no idea they had attached to a house.”

Cenedi regarded him somberly. “Not Taibeni.”

“From the mountains. Their training continued during the Troubles, under Ajien.”

Clearly Cenedi knew the name, and was suitably impressed.

He thought of the various hand-picked tutors and several security arrangements that had gone over the horizon already.

It didn’t mean the young gentleman would be grateful.

Or polite.

“Let us hope,” Bren said, “things go smoothly.”

“Let us hope,” Cenedi said with a dour expression.

They allknew how that might go.

Chapter 16

« ^

Nandi,” Jegari said, or Cajeiri thought he said, and pulled his head off the pillow to find out.

In fact it was Jegari, looking anxious. And Jegari would not waken him on a whim. It was still daylight out, though the room was dark, what staff called the storm shutters were still in place, only admitting slits of daylight. But he could see, all the same.

“We have notoverslept,” he said. He was sure of that. And then anxiety crowded after: “Mani is all right?”