Peacemaker

But the Guild couldn’t straighten its internal business out fast enough in this instance. Tatiseigi could talk to others who would be disturbed by the incident, and persuade them on the strength of his own reputation. But Tatiseigi was not likely to make headway with the man he had publicly embarrassed, and as for the dowager meeting with him—

Not a good idea . . . especially when the real thing at stake was not Lord Aseida’s future, but the Cismontane Association and a few critical kilometers of privately-owned railroad that crossed a vital mountain pass.

So the best he could do was to try . . . and hope that Topari would just let the Aseida matter drift off and talk to him about the thing he really wanted.

Algini eventually came in, saying that Topari was now in the lift system with Jago, and with his own bodyguard. The two Guildsmen from Tabini’s staff had arrived, and were being briefed so far as they could be: they were simply to stand by the door in the event the rural bodyguard caused a problem.

There was no need for the paidhi-aiji to be waiting in the sitting room, looking anxious. Let Narani employ his skills and soothe the gentleman with attentions. Let Topari absorb the hospitality of the fairly traditional household, and be treated as a proper guest. It was not a bureaucratic office, or the legislative waiting room: it was a high court official’s private home, and business would indeed wait while the traditional formalities were played out, and anger settled in the traditional way.

He heard the door open, and heard the arrival. Algini was out in the foyer, standing guard by the office, a convenient place to meet Jago and learn the gentleman’s temper in a handful of discreet signals. The gentleman’s attendants would politely split up, two to attend the gentleman and two to stand in the hall with the aiji’s pair. Weapons? Oh, undoubtedly there would be weapons . . . God only knew what sort—likely hunting pieces—but that was why Tabini’s men were in the hall.

He gave it a little while more, until Narani would have time to see the gentleman seated, time enough to have the servants busy preparing tea, and time to for Narani to intone, in his best formal ma

He heard the door open and close. He waited.

Jago and Algini let Narani in, Narani said, as cheerfully as if he had not just dealt with an irate country lord, “Lord Topari, nandi, is in the sitting room.”

“Thank you, Rani-ji.” He got up, albeit gingerly, as he was doing things today, and walked into the hall and past the two Guildsmen and the two rural bodyguards, to enter the sitting room by the formal, proper door.

Lord Topari was as he remembered the man, a portly fellow, a little reminiscent of Lord Geigi, except he stood shorter and wider, and he entirely lacked Lord Geigi’s genial ma

Jago was there already. So was Algini. And the viewer was set up.

“Nandi,” Bren said, paying a painful and absolutely correct little bow as he reached his intended chair. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, let us have a little tea.” He signaled. Servants moved, and absolutely Narani, his master of kabiu, had thought of everything. It was not his most elaborate tea set, in case of breakage, but a very traditional one, about fifty years old; and immediately behind the tea service came a servant with a plate of teacakes and small pastries, the aroma of which complemented the tea. “The hour being such,” Bren said, “one thought the cakes might be welcome.” He took one himself, and took a little bite—should the gentleman have any notion there was any mischief about the cakes.

And if anyone could resist Bindanda’s tea cakes he had no appetite for perfection. Topari did not have the look of a man who disdained fine food, and there was, indeed, a milder expression on that face once the orangelle sweetness reached Topari’s senses.

That cake vanished, rather quickly, and two gulps of tea. The servant with the teacakes offered more.

“I have not been to Halrun,” Bren remarked by way of small talk, naming Topari’s house and village. “Is it high in the mountains?”

“The highest of all capitals,” the man said immediately.

And the coldest, it was reputed.

“One is told it is quite beautiful in the southern mountains.”

“We are not enthusiastic about strangers.”

“Ah. Well, then to the loss of all the world, certainly. I have always enjoyed the snow. And one understands winter never quite leaves Halrun.”

“We do, indeed, keep snow on the peaks in midsummer.”

“But Halrun itself is not at such a height.”

“No,” Topari said shortly, and took another teacake, which disappeared in two bites and a gulp of tea.

“Well, well,” Bren said, seeing that the man was not settling, nor likely to if they wandered too far from the topic. He set his cup down, as host, the signal that business conversation was now in order.

The other cup, minus a last gulp, went down. Curious little gesture. Not quite city ma

“I do again thank you for coming, nandi,” Bren said quietly. “And I shall not waste your time. Sources inform me that you are quite perturbed about the situation of Lord Aseida.”

“I shall not argue it here.”

“One entirely understands, nandi, but I have an utterly different motive in asking you here. I am no authority within the aishidi’tat, merely a voice, but I do know that your district has become very important, or will be so, in the future. Your strong leadership is important, and my principals have no wish to see political damage occur . . .”

“Is that a threat, nandi?”

“By no means, nandi. I have asked you here because I have consulted with others of the Conservative Caucus on the matter of the Kadagidi lord, and clearly you are part of that caucus, equally deserving of the information the others are being given, or may already have. Guild administration has changed. Information is being passed from the Assassins’ Guild to various houses regarding that change and other matters. And realizing that your own bodyguard may not be tapped into that source, and that you have expressed concern about various events, I called you here to give you that information, for fairness’ sake. Appearances will be preserved, I swear to you, and there will be no news of the topic of our meeting. That we two have business could involve a dozen things—the railway and the southern route, among others—perfectly logical for us to discuss.” There was bait on a string. “But most urgently, nandi, let me state the real business, which you need to know—to have proved to your satisfaction: the action at the Kadagidi estate was entirely lawful. My bodyguard was fired upon and wounded. My Guild senior is at present lying abed injured, and as you see, I was not exempt from attack.” He lifted a hand toward the cut on his cheek. “A minor scrape. There were, however, six holes in the bus in which I was standing.”

“That is no proof. It says nothing as to who provoked the incident.”

“I agree. It is no proof at all. But proof exists. First, a document delivered to the Guild last night contains the confession of two members from the Dojisigin Marid, who were coerced to lie in wait for Lord Tatiseigi, in an unFiled assassination which provoked our visit to the Kadagidi—since, at the time of the incident, Lord Tatiseigi had guests who were put at risk: the aiji-dowager, the aiji’s son and heir, myself, one of the ship-aiji and three young folk from the space station.”