Peacemaker

And give a speech.

That was not an auspicious start of being nine.

15

A little time lying down—that helped. Bren managed a nap very carefully, having shed his coat, and his vest, and lay carefully on his stomach, head on his hand, so as not to wrinkle the shirt.

A knock sounded at the door, and he turned a little and looked from the corner of his eye—it was Jago who had come in.

“Bren-ji. Narani reports Lord Topari is coming. Imminently.”

Damn. And good. “How imminently?”

“Narani estimates half an hour.”

Damn again. He didn’t want to move. But he carefully slid off the bed—he and his valets had agreed that the helpful little stepping-stool should always be set precisely in the middle of the bedframe, so that he could find it infallibly with his foot. “My vest,” he said, “Jago-ji. How is Banichi?”

“Sleeping,” Jago said. “Tano is also sleeping.”

“Good for both,” he said. He straightened his sleeves, saw that Jago had taken not the vest he had just put off to lie down, but the bulletproof one, and considering Topari’s opinion of humans, and his experience in the south, he didn’t argue. He simply slipped his arms into it, and let Jago fasten it. “How did Narani report his disposition?”

“As unhappy.”

“The brown coat.” That was a day-coat that accommodated that vest, the only day-coat that would. Jago took it from the closet and held it for him, helped him settle the shoulders.

“A message from Tabini,” Jago said, the sort of ru

“Good,” he said. “Teacakes. Can we manage that?”

“Bindanda has anticipated the need,” Jago said, “and arranged some small pastries, too, in the thought that such things, if u

“Excellent,” he said. “We need to call Bujavid security.”

“Better,” Jago said. “I shall go downstairs and escort the lord up.”

“Having him in the best mood possible,” he said, “will be an asset. Thank you, Jago-ji.”

“Look at me,” she said, and gently angled his face to look him in the eyes and let him track her finger. “The pupils still match.”

“Good,” he said, wishing he dared take another painkiller. But he had an ill-disposed, rough-edged southerner headed for his apartment and he needed nothing to dull his senses. “The video from nand’ Jase.”

“The video and the viewer will be in the sitting room, should you wish.”

“Excellent. One trusts Topari has a bodyguard.”

“Yes,” Jago said. “Algini just requested their records. If there should be any problem—shall we defer Guild objection to his escort, in the interests of the meeting, or shall we make one and bar them from entry?”

“Let them in,” he said. “Let us be cordial to our guest . . . and do not alarm him. Advise Jase and his aishid—no, I should advise him. His presence might be useful. Otherwise, just let Tano sleep. Surely you and Algini can deal with any problem.”

“One suggests we ask two of the aiji’s guards to fill in, to be sure.”

Tabini’s secondary bodyguards were the dowager’s own, and their presence would brief Tabini and Ilisidi at once they returned to their posts. “Yes,” he said. “Do that. Go.”

She left, moving quickly. He took a slower pace to his office and left the door open, seeing to a little note-taking, while kitchen, serving staff, and Jago collectively saw to it they had a smooth welcome for a very problematic visitor, who must not get stopped and a

Jase came in. “Visitor?” Jase asked, in the shorthand way of ship-folk. “I’m told he’s a problem.”

“He can be, easily. Conservative as hell, and he and his staff are probably the only citizens of his district that’ve ever met anybody who wasn’t born in his district.”

“We’ve seen that problem,” Jase said. “Too long between station-calls.”

“Only his district has never made a station-call, even on their own capital, not in the whole existence of the aishidi’tat. The mountain folk only heard about the War of the Landing. They only hear about humans. This fellow’s certainly the only one in his district who’s ever met one of us, and that one is me, so it’s a pretty small sample. Meeting you would double his entire experience. Kaplan and Polano in armor—and the technicalities of that recording from two angles—are going to be a bit much for him, I’m suspecting, but I’ll try not to push matters.”

“We’re there if you need us,” Jase said. “Kaplan and Polano are sleeping off last night. I can send them in if you want.”

“We’ll manage. We have reinforcement from next door.” He noted Narani’s quiet appearance in the doorway. “Very well done, Rani-ji. How was he?”

Narani’s little lift of the brows, the little hesitation, spoke volumes. “One believes, nandi, that the gentleman does not trust the invitation, but considers your position.”

“And detests my filthy self being on this very exclusive floor?”

“That would be my estimation of his views, nandi.”

“I almost want to stay and watch,” Jase said, “but I urgently plan to read a book.”

“I think we’ll record this session, too,” Bren said. “At least the audio. I won’t review it myself, but the Guild will. The new Guild. The Guild that’s not in the least happy with the amount of misinformation that’s flown about in the last several years. I’m expecting them to ask for a copy of the Kadagidi video, too, since it’s come into issue.”

“We have absolutely no objection to that,” Jase said.

The notion that one could rely on the Guild to take in such a tape, quietly disseminate just the information in it to the bodyguards of numerous lords, and that the lords and their bodyguards could have confidence in information under Guild seal being accurate—they had lost that confidence, in the last two years, when they had only feared that the Guild had a few serious leaks.

When they had begun to realize that the security problem was far worse than that—when they’d finally understood they were unable to trust the Guild’s very integrity—that had been a nightmare. If that confidence had ever been undermined in the general public, the whole continent would have gone to hell on the fast track.

That problem was, they hoped, fixed. Fixed, to the point that if it were not that a certain minor lord was about to shipwreck himself and his association on an assumption—he could hope that the Guild would now function in the old way, that Guild experts would view the tape, the Council would review it, and then quietly pass the word through Guild cha

It would be a great relief if that happened and it all became quiet.

It would be a great relief if the Lord Aseida matter would drop like a stone and sink out of sight. In the old system, lords who were disposed to support Aseida, for whatever reason, ideally would simply get advice to the contrary, that the Guild, having deliberated, was going to rule against Aseida . . . and life would go on, while Aseida would probably get a quiet retirement in a town where he could live reasonably and settle disputes about hunting rights or ta