Intruder

“Understood,” he said, and sat thinking about Lord Tatiseigi, who had made some very unprecedented movement on various questionscmostly on issues definitely to Tatiseigi’s advantage, taken all together. It seemed on the one hand too good to be true—and on the other, the constellation of advantages, ones he personally had labored to collect, precisely to try to head off conservative opposition—were real advantages.

Well, he’d made more of an impact on Lord Tatiseigi than he’d thought. Tatiseigi had quite happily taken the opportunity to fling stones at his neighbor the Kadagidi, via the whole program—and had gotten in a good hit or two. He wasn’t unhappy to hear that, and the Kadagidi were going to regret not being in the meeting. Possibly the Guild as currently constituted had been at work there, too—

—or possibly the Guild members that served the Kadagidi were having problems that Jago did not have clearance to report.

Might some that protected that house have gotten themselves personally involved in the fracas down in the Marid? That would be interesting.

Might there have been a thi

Some among the Shadow Guild had fled from Guild vengeance to the south. Naturally those that they knew had run first were the leaders.

And would the Kadagidi be stupid enough—or scared enough—to admit them back into Kadagidi territory? Surely not.

“Is there, Jago-ji, anyof the Shadow Guild in the Kadagidi district? Is Lord Tatiseigi advisedly taking that position?”

Jago’s gold eyes flicked upward. And down, hiding secrets. “Perhaps. We have personally taken aside all of Lord Tatiseigi’s bodyguard and explained certain things forcefully. He is under heavy protection.”

“One understands,” he said.

Jago went back about her business elsewhere.

And he went to consult with Geigi, who was in the hands of his aishid, being dressed.

“Tatiseigi is speaking in favor of our position,” he said. “We are doing very well, thus far. He has not carried the day, but it seems reasonably likely that he may do so.”

“The porcelain,” Geigi said, fastening the vest, “has incredibly sweetened his mood. Had I known this a decade ago, I swear I would have sent the old reprobate my best!”

“I believe it is the contemplation of gain, Geigi-ji. Gain from transport of grain: he is admirably well-situated for it. Grain headed south and fish to the north. Not to mention the porcelains.”

“Well, well, well,” Geigi said, and turned to accept his coat. “I swear to you, I shall ply him with little gifts. I shall remember it if the weather truly holds fair, from the Padi Valley.”

“He is a very shrewd politician,” Bren said. “If we can enlist him, so much the better for the dowager’s cause.”

There were a dozen things still to do—one of which was to look up and absolutely fix in his head the names of two similarly named bays on the East Coast that he had confused before, and the names of several contacts in that district.

He was doing that when the office door opened, and Banichi came in.

“There is a difficulty, Bren-ji,” Banichi said.

“Difficulty.” Adrenaline came up. Instantly. “What difficulty.”

“The young gentleman,” Banichi said. “He sent to his father earlier to request his father come back to the apartment. Now he has dispatched one of his aishid from the apartment with a message to Lord Tatiseigi.”

“To Tatiseigi.” He was immediately confounded and chagrined—puzzled that the boy, if he was distressed at not having his own invitation to the evening event, had not sent to the aiji-dowager and chagrined that the boy had not sent to him, who was right next door. He would have explained to the young gentleman—the high security involved, the chance of difficulty—and the statement it would make having the aiji’s son present. The omission of an invitation was a political decision, not an accident. “Should I go there, Nichi-ji?”

“The young man has reportedly had a falling-out with his mother,” Banichi said. “That is the matter at issue. And one does not believe it would be a good idea, Bren-ji, either to send us or to go yourself.” Banichi looked worried. So, he was sure, did he. They had both heard Tabini’s account of difficulties.

And an issue had to arise today. This evening. “Perhaps,” he said, “we should notify Jaidiri.” That was the chief of Tabini’s bodyguard.

“Jaidiri knows, now, from Tatiseigi’s bodyguard,” Banichi said.

“Damn. One hardly knows what to do.”

“There is nothing that suggests itself,” Banichi said. “Damiri-daja’s father is in the city.”

“Twice damn,” Bren said, and there went his concentration on details. Damn and damn. “Keep an eye on that situation. Keep me posted.”

“Yes,” Banichi said.

He went to have a concentrated look at his maps, to fix the names in his head. He tried not to think what might be going on next door, and he told himself an eight-year-old within a very little of fortunate nine had been desperate, appealing to his great-uncle and not his great-grandmotherc Hewas in possession of information internal to the family and dared not send down to Ilisidi’s apartment. She would march in, already at a pitch of nerves from the Machigi affair, and if there was war to be had on Cajeiri’s account, she would declare it.

And the fight that would create in the chief household—one didn’t want to contemplate. The boy was far from stupid. He had not sent to her.

Please God he had not sent to Ilisidi.

Banichi came back to his office, this time with Jago, in some urgency. “Tabini-aiji himself has left the meeting, stating for the membership that he has received an urgent message. Lord Tatiseigi’s guard, on the advisement of Tabini-aiji’s bodyguard, has held back the message from the young gentleman and has not yet shown it to Lord Tatiseigi.”

Bren drew a deep breath. “We should probably notify Cenedi, if he has not been told, but one must emphasize he should keep the news from the dowager. Is the caucus continuing?”

“There was some concern,” Jago said, “in the sudden departure of Tabini-aiji. There was speculation of some incident involving Lord Machigi. Lord Tatiseigi has told them it is a Bujavid security concern and does not involve Lord Machigi.”

“Excellent.” That sort of issue would be rated severe, but the sort of thing that, once attended at high levels, would cease to be a threat. And it was the sort of disturbance that routinely happened around important events. “Brilliant. Lord Tatiseigi deserves credit for that one.”

“Lord Tatiseigi’s bodyguard will certainly meet his displeasure,” Banichi said, “once they admit the content of that message.”

One of Cajeiri’s pranks gone awry, maybe. Maybe an attempt to leave the apartment and go to the signing.

Or maybe not.

With all else that was going on in the worldcit was not safe.

Not with the rejection of a bouquet in the Taisigi mission foyer, and not with the arrival of the Taisigi lord, and not with Damiri-daja’s grandfather inbound and her great-uncle, in that meeting downstairs, just having shifted the conservative balance over to a side not profitable for that gentleman.

There were just too damned many pieces in motion for a good-hearted boy to have any room for mistakes.

“One is quite concerned about the timing, Nichi-ji.”

“We are concerned,” Banichi said, “but the aiji will be in the apartment in a matter of moments.”

Tabini would handle it. Being in the blast zone would not be a good thing.

“Dur is on his way to the Bujavid now,” Banichi said.

“One is grateful for Dur,” Bren said. “Do we have any information on the Ajuri’s whereabouts? Or Machigi’s?”

“Machigi is having supper,” Jago said. “The Ajuri lord is only now leaving the airport.”

“We are expressing concern to the Guild,” Banichi said, “about Ajuri’s intended visit and, taking a little on ourselves, we would advise the Guild on the situation in the aiji’s apartment. We believe any directive to delay Ajuri’s arrival in the Bujavid will have to come from Cenedi. With your authorization, Bren-ji, on such a matter.”