Peacemaker

“So.” He drew a deep breath. Force his way into Guild headquarters?

He’d worried a great deal, on that train ride, about his aishid eventually deciding to take on Assignments themselves—entering the Guild’s headquarters, trying to penetrate the defenses of the whole rest of the Guild . . . because he could not see the Assassins’ Guild turning over records at anyone’s asking, even Tabini’s.

He’d not remotely thought they’d ask his help. But it made sense.

“So—” he asked. “What would we have to do, Jago-ji?”

“Pass the doors all the way to Council, while it sits in session. If it will admit us, and hear you, well and good. If not, we set ourselves in a single critical doorway, between the hallway straight ahead, which is the Council, and the hallway to the left, which leads to Assignments, and we keep that door open, preventing them from sealing the heart of the building. Likely—most likely, Bren-ji, the Council will refuse to hear you—considering the situation with Lord Aseida. That would actually be desirable. Outright refusal would be quite acceptable. Hearing you have arrived, they will view you as, if nothing else, a move by Tabini that they do not want to deal with, and that they will want to stall—especially if they get wind of any physical movement by the old Guild in the city. But should they actually let us into the Council chamber, we will be in position, and we will be armed.”

“How—armed?”

“The ordinary. Indeed, Bren-ji, we have even thought of Jase-aiji’s weapons. But we ca

Grim joke. But he didn’t have the right reflexes. He couldn’t react quickly enough, nor in the right direction. He was a liability under fire. He’d proven that often enough.

Worse, they would instinctively try to protect him.

“I fear being a risk to you, Jago-ji. I am entirely willing, but I fear moving in the wrong direction. And I absolutely do not want to put you at risk protecting me.”

“There are things you can learn. That you must learn, to do this with us. And you will definitely be wearing the vest.”

Bullets hurt. God, they hurt. But that was nowhere in any important calculations. “Then advise me what I need to do, Jago-ji. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Moving with us is important. We can coordinate very precisely without communications, given a known distance and a precise rate of movement. We do not wish to look as if we are counting—but we will be counting. You will practice that with me.”

He nodded. He knew how that worked. “Yes.”

And the rest—he would do. The stakes were that high. And it was going to be a very, very narrow window they had if they hoped to act fast enough to get at those records.

Were there people who could step into the breach and deal with the political situation if he and his aishid were shot down in a hallway?

Tabini and Geigi could.

His own brother, Toby, would co

And never discount Ilisidi. Keeping her alive and safe was a priority, especially if anything happened to them. The plan could not entail putting her at risk.

“We are far from pleased to ask this, Bren-ji. It will be an extreme risk, and our priorities in this, you are right, ca

“Baji-naji, Jago-ji. Our instincts in such a situation are occasionally at odds. We discovered that on a hillside in Malguri, and I apologize that I have not in the least reformed, though I know more than I did. I confess I am far happier to go in there with you than to send you in there without me. I know your feelings are quite the opposite. I can only say I have gotten ca

“You ca

“But you can.”

“We, certainly. But you, and the documents you bring to the Council, must represent the aiji, on some matter that can be proven, even if we ca

“Indeed.” He drew in a breath. And let it out again. “Well. Well, I shall wear the vest without a complaint on this outing. And I shall stay with you, Jago-ji. When shall we do this?”

“This evening,” she said. “When the Guild Council meets.”

This evening.

God. He was not mentally ready for this.

But he had to be, evidently. He had to be, to do the things that needed doing. Anything else—gave their enemies time to figure them out, or for something essential to leak, and for lives to be lost. Or the whole effort to be lost.

Tonight it was, then.

“Is Banichi going?” he asked.

“He has pills for infection, pills for pain, and a stimulant which he may be taking in excess. He has to be there—he promised the exiled Guild he would be. And,” she added, “he is added firepower.”

He understood it. He far from liked that part of it. But he understood what it was to have a member of a team down: it was like an arch missing a keystone.

“He has Algini for backup,” she said. “He and Algini both know the senior units on sight, as Tano and I do not. And the plan does make sense. What more we need—you, Bren-ji, can get a document from Tabini-aiji, something with conspicuous seals and an abundance of ribbons, on a matter we might reasonably bring before the Guild.”

“I shall get it,” he said.

This evening, he thought. Damn.

He needed to have his valets set his court dress in good order for reasons not to do with the impending holiday. And he needed to write a few letters he hoped Narani would never have to send.

Then there was Jase.

He had to talk to Jase.

 · · ·

“We have a difficult day pla

“We.”

“My aishid. And I. Politically—you should not be involved in this. You should not be in the least involved.”

“Damn, Bren.”

That was of curious comfort, that human expression. Toby would say just about that if Toby were here. He was very glad Toby was not.

“What can I do?” Jase asked.

Toby, he thought, would ask that, too.

To that, he had an answer. “This. Guard the aiji. Guard Ilisidi. Guard Tatiseigi and the children with your weapons. With everything you’ve got. If you’re attacked here, get a message to Geigi. Ask for help, tell him everything we know, and very likely at that point you’ll be paidhi-aiji.”