Текст книги "Peacemaker"

Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh

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“Indeed. One regrets it,” Narani said.

“Most of our baggage is delayed. There was a little difficulty at Tirnamardi. The wardrobe will come in crates. There are three human children guesting with the young gentleman in Lord Tatiseigi’s apartment.” That was a bombshell, but the old man only lifted a brow, hearing it. “We shall have the honor of Jase-aiji’s company; and we are not yet informed what guests the aiji-dowager will choose for herself, but one suspects that she will keep close watch over several persons we have taken in custody, so security will be extremely close, on this floor. Komaji of Ajuri is dead, you may have heard, and we do not know by what agency. The dowager is holding Aseida of the Kadagidi under arrest, pending the aiji’s decision in his case.” He drew breath and said, conscious of the juxtaposition, and feeling that his own sanity was questionable: “The birthday party is, as far as we know, still on schedule.”

It took a bit to astonish Narani. Or Jeladi.

“Indeed, nandi,” Narani said, to news signifying a complete overturn of power in the Padi Valley—and Tatiseigi’s sudden hospitality toward human children. “We were startled by your arrival, but we shall have no trouble serving at any hour, and we are well supplied in foodstuffs to assist Lord Tatiseigi’s staff with the human guests. —Jase-aiji.” The last was simple politeness, with a little bow—indeed, Narani knew Jase well. “We are honored.”

The penultimate two of their party arrived with hand baggage, Koharu and Supani, themselves in need of rest, and the doors opened and shut again.

“Do not wait to attend me,” Bren said to the pair. “Rest. Just rest. Be waited upon yourselves, nadiin-ji. You have indisputably earned it.”

Reliable staff was around them, and Banichi and the rest could ordinarily head for the back hall and their own quarters, with staff to carry the gear, and the prospect of beds, bath, food, whatever they most wanted, not to mention information—at least as much as they dared pass about their return . . . but . . .

“I have one more matter to attend,” Bren said. Banichi immediately gave him an attentive look—and he shook his head. “No, Nichi-ji. You go to bed. Rest. Jago-ji, stay with him. Be sure he does. One intends only a courtesy call next door, but one cannot say whether the aiji will have a few questions. And well he may. —Jase-ji, brandy or bed, as you choose. Tano-ji, Gini-ji. Kindly come with me.”

He went back to the door. Jeladi opened it before he reached it, and he was in the hall with Tano and Algini before he realized his astonished staff had not even managed to get him into a clean coat. His clothes were in the last stage of travel-frayed and probably beyond saving. He was an utter disgrace—but if he looked disgraceful enough, Tabini’s staff might just take a message. Ideally all he had to do was knock at the door, ask Tabini’s staff to inform Tabini that they were back and safe, and say that he would have a full report in the morning.

Then he would take his two exhausted bodyguards home and fall on his face.

Tano knocked. Tabini-aiji’s major domo opened the door.

Bren bowed, “We are back safely, nadi,” he managed to say.

“Nandi,” the major domo said, “please come in.”

“One is far from presentable, nadi. Please offer my excuses. Assure the aiji that the young gentleman, the aiji-dowager, and the guests are all safe.”

“The aiji has asked to see you in his study immediately, nandi.”

Did the paidhi-aiji, the aiji’s personal intermediary and diplomat, wreak havoc on a major clan and not explain the matter?

Possibly a message from the dowager had beaten him here, during the few moments he had taken in his foyer.

Or possibly the news services were already full of what had happened to the Kadagidi lord—the Kadagidi lord’s servants had gone down to the township and their discretion was unlikely.

Absent that, they had had to let Bujavid security know they were back. And Tabini would naturally ask what in hell all the people he thought were safe and happy in Tirnamardi were doing back in the Bujavid.

Well, so—he summoned up the scraps of his fortitude, and let himself be escorted down the short hall from the foyer. He let the servant knock and open the door to Tabini’s office, and he quietly tucked the tea-stained lace into his coat cuff before he entered.

Tabini-aiji was at his desk—Tabini gave him a sharp look with those pale eyes that made courtiers squirm; and Bren gave the requisite short bow.

“Aiji-ma.” He offered the good news first, to ease any worry. “We are back. We are safe.”

Tabini drew a deep breath. “My grandmother arrested Lord Aseida this morning and blew up his house.”

“A window of his house, aiji-ma, to be exact. And it was Jase-aiji’s guard who fired.”

“Jase-aiji’s guard.”

So much they had swallowed up behind their security blackout.

“Jase-aiji accompanied the three children down, and brought two of his own bodyguard. We were all at Lord Tatiseigi’s estate, enjoying his hospitality, aiji-ma, when two Dojisigi Assassins were roused out of hiding. They surrendered, and reported they had been coerced into an unFiled attempt on Lord Tatiseigi’s life. Their relatives were held hostage by the Shadow Guild, and they had been sent on the last stage of their mission from the Kadagidi estate.”

Tabini swung his chair to face him fully, hands clasped. “We have this documented?”

“We have the Assassins themselves, aiji-ma, who have made a full and willing report to the aiji-dowager.”

A brow lifted. “Go on, nand’ paidhi.”

“Persons coming from the Kadagidi estate, aiji-ma, presented a lethal threat, as happened, to foreign guests and to minor children. Jase-aiji and I went this morning to that estate to make it clear to them what persons they had accidentally offended and to ask for an apology. Instead of bringing their lord to confer, Lord Aseida’s bodyguard fired on us. Banichi and Jase-aiji’s bodyguard returned fire. In a second incident, from an upper story, fire came at Jase-aiji and myself, and Jase-aiji’s guard responded, to the ruin of a window, one regrets to say, aiji-ma. We were not the first to fire.”

“Did you arrest these persons?”

“None survived, aiji-ma. We dismissed Kadagidi domestic staff to the township. None were in a position to witness the exchange on the steps.”

“Is Asien’dalun left unoccupied?”

“Lord Tatiseigi’s allies have possession of the premises.”

“The Taibeni.”

“The Taibeni, aiji-ma. We left the estate in their hands.”

“We. I trust my son was not involved.”

“No, aiji-ma. Only myself, and Jase-aiji.”

“Your face.”

He had forgotten he had a wound crossing his cheek. His fingers found it was swollen, and a glance sharply down revealed it had dripped blood on his coat collar. He had been obsessed by the tea stain on his cuff. It had been a long morning. “One apologizes for the state of dress, aiji-ma. One considered it paramount to inform you.”

“Well that someone considered that detail,” Tabini retorted. “Were there fatalities on your side?”

“None, aiji-ma.” He tried to gather his scrambled thoughts. “Aiji-ma, the Shadow Guild down in the Dojisigin Marid took an entire village hostage, to force two Dojisigin Guild to carry out a mission against Lord Tatiseigi or see their relatives murdered. But seeing not only Lord Tatiseigi, but the aiji-dowager, in the presence of the young gentleman and foreign children—the Dojisigi surrendered and appealed to the aiji-dowager. The aiji-dowager freed their village last night.”

“Not personally, one supposes.”

That was irony. “No, aiji-ma. But not through central Guild command, one understands, which she fears may be compromised. Through her own. The action incidentally removed part of the Shadow Guild’s leadership in that district.”

“And my son? Participant in the goings-on at Tirnamardi?”

“At no point, aiji-ma. The young gentleman has been aware of the alarm in the house, but he was exemplary in keeping his guests from being involved, and in obeying instruction to stay in protected areas. He was quite safe and under guard when the two Assassins were taken in custody.”

Tabini lifted a brow.

“I omit nothing,” Bren said. “He was at no time in danger.”

“But you did kindly think of us, that we should be made aware that the aishidi’tat is missing a clan this evening.”

One could only nod quietly. And one also had to recall: “The Ajuri also lost Lord Komaji yesterday. One does not know whether you may have heard.”

“Of that, we are aware. Our staff tells us some things. We have made adjustments.”

The sarcasm and the annoyance were justified, fully.

“And where is my son at the moment?”

“In the Bujavid, aiji-ma. In Lord Tatiseigi’s apartment. With his guests.”

“Gods moderately fortunate. We are grateful our son has not stayed behind to direct the mop-up. Are we missing anything else you deem of interest?”

“No, aiji-ma.” He drew a breath. “But one does advise the aiji that security precautions in the Bujavid should be tightened. The opposition is stirred up, not only in the Marid, but likely here in the capital.”

“One would rather think they would be. Of course, we have our entire apartment staffed by my grandmother’s men. One expects to be told something soon.” There were light, quick steps in the hall. A woman’s steps. From deep inside the apartment. Tabini’s eyes darted aside and back. “One does not believe you will escape, paidhi.”

A knock came at the door, and with no pause at all, Lady Damiri swept in—a woman in her last days of pregnancy, a woman whose father had just been reported assassinated on a journey that might have taken him close to her son, at Tirnamardi, and who now, probably from security staff, found her son and company had arrived in the Bujavid and not told her they were coming back. “My son,” she said, as Bren respectfully rose and bowed.

“Safe,” he said quickly, and felt Damiri-daja’s glance travel up and down his bedraggled and blood-stained self. “He is well, quite well, daja-ma. He was not with me when I acquired this. He is here in the Bujavid. He was kept far from any incident.” Not quite the truth, if the opposition had had their way. “He has come back with his guests, and the ship-aiji who accompanied them—you remember Jase Graham, surely, daja-ma. Jase-aiji used the foreign weapons of his own bodyguard in his own protection and mine, and your son was at no point near the altercation with the neighbors.”

“Lord Aseida is under arrest at the moment,” Tabini said smoothly, never having risen from his desk. “Asien’dalun is missing a window. Our son and his guests are safely lodged with Lord Tatiseigi for the night.”

Damiri greeted that astonishing information with raised eyebrows, but no greater pleasure. She was Cajeiri’s link to Tatiseigi, who was her uncle. And her distaste for Lord Tatiseigi’s well-known conservatism had sent her back to Ajuri clan. “Indeed.”

“The paidhi-aiji,” Tabini said, “witnessed the Kadagidi situation first-hand. He has hurried here directly to reassure us. They clearly traveled quickly and silently, to get here with no noise.”

“Indeed,” Bren said.

“There was an assassination attempt,” Tabini said, “as we understand it, launched by the dissidents in the Dojisigin Marid, aided by the Kadagidi as a staging point, and aimed at Lord Tatiseigi.”

“At my uncle, specifically?”

With her father just assassinated.

Her maternal great-uncle, Tatiseigi, had come under threat—with the added choice of her son and her husband’s grandmother on the premises. One could see what her focus might be, in trying to parse that equation.

“Daja-ma,” Bren ventured to say, “the mission was launched specifically at Lord Tatiseigi—set for his return, whenever it might happen. The Assassins had no foreknowledge that he would arrive with such guests. The Assassins themselves were caught in a bind. They surrendered, confessed the situation—and we—Jase-aiji and I, went by bus to the Kadagidi estate to protest the action and receive an apology. But Lord Aseida’s bodyguard did not bring Lord Aseida to the conversation. They fired on us.”

“Which we are sure is not what the Kadagidi will say,” Tabini muttered.

“But we,” Bren said, “have a record of the event, aiji-ma. Jase-aiji’s men recorded the action in video and sound, with every movement, every word leading up to the exchange of fire.”

“Recorded.” Tabini was more than interested. “Will this recording be in our hands?”

“It will be by tomorrow, aiji-ma. Jase-aiji promises it, for whatever use we wish to make of it. He can process it for our machines. One cautions—one has not seen the record yet. But so far as my memory is accurate, and Banichi says the same, Lord Aseida’s Guild senior fired first.”

“Haikuti,” Tabini said with distaste.

“Haikuti is dead, aiji-ma. Along with two Guild units besides, and whoever fired from the window at Asien’dalun’s upper corner. We then took tactical positions in the house and grounds. My bodyguard and the aiji-dowager’s prevented servants from destroying records. We arrested certain persons we believe are plain-clothes Guild, and we dismissed the rest of the domestic servants to the township, everything by Guild regulations. It was a legitimate Guild operation, taken in a legitimate action on my part, and their firing initiated our response.”

“And where was Lord Aseida during all this?”

“Within the house, aiji-ma. He was brought out from hiding under our escort. We took him to Tirnamardi, where he asked protection of Lord Tatiseigi, who flatly refused him. In leaving Asien’dalun, we gave place to Taibeni clan who were also guesting on Tirnamardi estate, who were also offended by the operation launched from Kadagidi soil. They are holding the Kadagidi estate, in alliance with Lord Tatiseigi.”

Tabini slightly pursed his lips. Tabini himself was half Taibeni. His aishid—excepting the dowager’s men—was Taibeni. And this morning’s turn of events now had Taibeni clan working with Taibeni clan’s old enemy Tatiseigi against their other old enemy the Kadagidi. It made a very interesting turn of events.

“And Aseida?”

“Lord Aseida resides in the aiji-dowager’s keeping.”

“Here?”

“Yes, aiji-ma. Along with the two Dojisigi Assassins.”

“On this floor?”

“I have no idea, aiji-ma. But, cooperative though the Dojisigi have been, and deeply indebted as they are to the aiji-dowager, they will surely not be set at liberty yet, one is quite certain of that. And one is equally sure Lord Aseida will not be. They traveled in a separate rail car and at no point has this situation been near the children.”

“I leave the Dojisigi to my grandmother’s discretion,” Tabini muttered with a wave of his hand, “but Aseida is mine to deal with. You will remind her of that.”

“Without a doubt he must be, aiji-ma, nor does one believe she would say otherwise.”

“Of course not. —With a notable dearth of candidates for the Kadagidi lordship, of course she will not object. There will be a firestorm among the Conservatives, and we shall have to deal with the mess.”

“Ajuri,” Damiri said unhappily, regarding her clan, now lordless, with her father’s death, “and now Kadagidi must have new lords. And there will be more troubles for the north.”

Damiri herself was one candidate for the lordship of Ajuri. She was the very last candidate Tabini wanted in that frequently-vacated office. There was clearly subtext in the aiji-consort’s uncommon statement on politics in the paidhi’s hearing.

Subtext, too, in Tabini’s sideways shift of the eyes, in his wife’s direction.

“When shall we see our son?” Damiri asked sharply.

Angry. Yes. Damiri was angry with Tabini. Angry with her son. Angry with Ilisidi. Angry with him. Angry with her uncle. And, it was very certain, she was supremely angry at her recently-deceased father and whoever had killed him.

She was also the very last person on the planet the dowager wanted involved in any plan to move against the old man in Assignments—an old man who also happened to be her great-uncle.

“Daja-ma,” Bren said quietly, “the youngsters are all exhausted, and very concerned about making a good impression. An alert kept them up much of the night, and they are likely headed for baths and beds now as quickly as Lord Tatiseigi’s staff can settle them in. Your son is deeply concerned for your safety and your good opinion. He wishes you to know he is well. He is the only translator available for his guests at the moment, and he wishes not to disturb your peace of mind, daja-ma, by arriving here with his guests—not to mention the parid’ja.”

“That creature.”

“Indeed, daja-ma. The parid’ja is with him. And, right or wrong in his judgment, he has wished to regroup and set himself to rights. He wishes to present himself and his guests rested, and in the most felicitous way, and he wishes not to disturb this household with the commotion of young guests.”

He had averted wars. Damiri’s displeasure was a harder argument. The scowl persisted for a moment, boring into him. Then:

“Tell me this, paidhi-aiji. Was my uncle or the dowager involved in my father’s assassination?”

A reasonable question. He was ever so glad to report the negative.

“In no way or degree were they involved, daja-ma. They were aware of Lord Komaji’s movement toward Lord Tatiseigi’s estate—but they had given no order at all to prevent him. They were both quite shocked by the unfortunate event. I was present at deliberations and there is no question in my mind they were uncertain about his intentions. They even wondered whether your father, not knowing that the aiji-dowager or your son was present at Tirnamardi, was on his way to take refuge with Lord Tatiseigi, pending his return home, because of an imminent threat inside Ajuri—which the aiji-dowager believes existed. I believe she thinks he was indeed coming to appeal to Lord Tatiseigi. Lord Komaji and Lord Tatiseigi were not on good terms, but Lord Tatiseigi is moderate even to his enemies. We rather wonder also whether there was some particular intelligence your father meant to give Lord Tatiseigi, information that someone did not wish given.”

“Specifically?”

God, of course she would ask that question. And he had to lie. Or at least evade. “I am not that far into the dowager’s confidence, daja-ma.” And back to the edge of the truth. “But one believes elements among the Kadagidi, among others, may have had a reason to fear your father’s making common cause with Lord Tatiseigi against them.” He glanced away, back to Tabini, an appeal for rescue.

“My grandmother will not withhold that information from us,” Tabini said, “one is quite certain. Well-done, paidhi. Go. Rest. Have that injury treated—and deal with our guests. Keep us informed. We shall wish to see our son when he is rested.”

“Aiji-ma.” Another bow. A short bow to the aiji-consort.

And an escape, before the domestic discussion could start.

 · · ·

They reached their own door, he and Tano and Algini. And within, safely in the hands of Narani, there was finally the chance to shed the ruined coat. Bren did that, not hoping to see it again.

“The aiji has the essentials of what happened on the Kadagidi estate, and in the south,” Bren told Tano and Algini before they parted company in the foyer—the two of them, in Tabini’s apartment, had been standing watch with the aiji’s guard, and not inside the office. “The aiji-consort arrived late. She asked questions regarding Lord Komaji’s assassination—she is understandably angry and she wonders whether she has been told all the truth. I mentioned the Kadagidi in the context of that assassination. I did not quite lie to her, nadiin-ji, but it was a misdirection; and it was certainly an untruth, when I said I was not that deep in the dowager’s affairs. The aiji clearly knows to the contrary, and probably the consort suspects it was a politic evasion and a half-answer. It was clumsy of me. I desperately need sleep, nadiin-ji.”

“Sleep as you can,” Algini advised him.

“Banichi?” he asked.

“He will rest,” Tano said. “Jago will see to it.”

With a dose of sedative, one suspected. The dowager’s physician had given him several bottles of pills.

“He should not think his risking his health in any way serves his man’chi to me,” he said. “One does not know how to convey that sentiment to him strongly enough. He needs several days abed.”

“That will not be the case, nandi,” Algini said.

Formal tone. Formal advisement. So he knew they weren’t waiting for the second part of the dowager’s plan. He had thought there would be a deal of information-gathering first.

“Then we are moving, nadiin-ji.”

“Imminently,” Algini said. “Banichi insists to be part of it. In plain fact, Bren-ji, he needs to be.”

Damn, he thought. “One understands,” he said, and the intellect understood, but the heart didn’t, not at all. He’d seen Banichi go down this morning. He kept seeing it, and knew there’d been considerable blood loss. “With how much risk?”

There was no answer. They knew he knew.

“I rely on you,” he said. “I rely on all of you. I ask that you think of your own value—to the aishidi’tat.” That didn’t half state it. “To me. You know that. Losing any one of you—I would be—I could continue to function in office, and I assure you I would do so, nadiin-ji, but—”

“He understands,” Algini said, a rescue.

“I am not expressing myself well, Gini-ji. Do not fear I could not function in my office. But I am worried. And I value all of you. Extremely.”

“We know. He knows. Understand, nandi—he knew that Haikuti would react to his presence. This troubles him. He knew if Haikuti did bring his lord out to parley, he would be maneuvering for position, with no regard for his lord’s safety. He knew that before we left the house. Banichi moved to protect you, and he moved to a defensive posture to secure your legal position; but in his own judgment he put himself in that position because he wanted Haikuti stopped and he left cover because he intended to withstand Haikuti’s fire to take him down definitively and legally. It served your interests and the aiji’s, too, but he strongly questions which motive was foremost in his mind when he did not turn and protect you with his body. I say this because he will not. He is determined not to operate at any disadvantage now, in consideration of what he sees as a lapse of man’chi—a failure of character. We have told him we would have done the same, on the simple logic of the situation, but he considers his action, however proper, was tainted by his personal feud with Haikuti, and he is determined not to be put out of action now because of his choice. That would give Haikuti some bearing on the outcome. And he will not tolerate that thought, either.”

He parsed that oblique statement for a second or two, and he understood it better than Algini might think he did. Banichi was stubbornly staying on his feet, trying to operate normally, because Banichi thought he had jumped the wrong direction under threat, in a process too fast for rational thought.

And Banichi was taking, he very much feared, a heavy dose of painkiller.

Handling luggage, for God’s sake, when they’d left the train. Tano had gotten the damned equipment bag away from him and carried double when they headed for the lift. He’d marked that little transaction.

He should never have opened his mouth about his personal feelings in the situation, not with a mission pending. He was sure of that, at least. “I have nothing more to say. I am determined not to endanger the rest of you. Take care of yourselves in your own way. Do what you have to do, and please ignore my emotional foolishness, nadiin-ji. I am not expressing myself well at all this evening.”

“You are not alone in your concern, nandi,” Tano said. “We have tried to keep him still. And though we will benefit by his presence in the mission and his advice is clear-headed . . . we have misgivings, too.”

“Then tell him—if it is useful—that I said be careful with his life, nadiin-ji.”

“One will try the utmost, Bren-ji,” Algini said, and with that, Tano and Algini went on down the inner hall.

He stood there. Narani and Jeladi waited, quietly, at one side. Jase had appeared in the door of the sitting room, and heard enough to make him stay there, saying nothing.

Jase wasn’t linked in—but Jase knew enough to worry. He’d just heard enough to worry considerably, one was quite sure.

“Brandy,” Bren said quietly, and went to join Jase in the sitting room, tea-stained shirt and trousers and all. He motioned Jase toward a chair; he took one.

“How did it go?” Jase asked.

“Well enough. The aiji is aware what happened. Not what is happening. And I have to sleep. Have to. By any means. We’re going to need all our wits about us in very short order.” In a surreal fog, he was aware of Jeladi moving about the buffet, quietly pouring two brandies. He didn’t even want one—but he knew once his head hit the pillow, as it was, his brain would start trying to work, and no sane or useful thought was going to come of it. “The boy and his birthday have gotten lost in the transaction—at least—at least right now. At least being here—until whatever happens, happens—we can guarantee the kids’ safety.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you?”

He took the brandy Jeladi offered, took a sip, shook his head. “Not really. Not that I anticipate. But I’ll understand if policy makes an official displeasure necessary. That’s also part of the job.”

“Understood,” Jase said, took the offered brandy, and shuddered. “Strong stuff.”

“Effective,” Bren said, and took his own. Unconsciousness was the objective. After two sips he didn’t even taste it. “Have Kaplan and Polano made it in?”

“In,” Jase said. “They’re out of the armor, and glad of it.”

“That video record.”

“Copied. Three copies, in fact. On the train. And the record uploaded to station, should anything happen to the original down here—that’s our policy, in a situation like this. They’ve given them to Jago.”

“Good,” he said. One worry down. At least one. He gave one critical thought to ambient security, and the effect of the brandy, and who he was talking to, and what staff was in the room: Jeladi was, like Narani, somewhat adept in ship-speak, but absolutely loyal. “I think we’re going forward, soon. I can’t swear to any promises we’ve made you or the captains. It’s a situation we didn’t intend to deal with until you and those kids were back aloft. But once things blew up with the Kadagidi, not to mention what’s going on in the Marid, now—we have a problem. The birthday, the festivity . . . means crowds. Means access. And an occasion the opposition will want use.”

“An incident, you mean.”

“And we can’t move the date. That’s the problem. Numbers. We can’t violate the numbers. The opposition didn’t mean to trigger what they did at the Kadagidi estate, but they did. We had to answer the attack on Tatiseigi—you don’t just let an incident like that slide. And we hurt them—we hurt them so badly that under normal circumstances they might even lie low for a year or so. But we have documents we haven’t had a chance to read yet. We don’t know how sensitive, or how desperate it might make them. Our enemy has one date, one public exposure, one really good chance at hurting the administration and looking powerful—there may be plans already in motion. And he has to worry what we may be able to make public—since he can’t be sure what’s in Haikuti’s records. We have a chance to address the situation in the Guild, the only chance at this man we’re likely to have; and somehow we have to prevent him hitting us first. I think my aishid is right.”

“Can you maneuver this problem of yours into leaving Guild Headquarters? Can the aiji order him in?”

“I don’t know. The aiji’s not supposed to know his name. No one is. I don’t know how they plan to get at him. But I think it’s imperative we do it. Soon.” He declined a second drink. The first was hitting hard. “I think my brain is fuzzing.”

“Mine’s no better,” Jase said. “Whatever help I can be—”

“Appreciated,” Bren said. He set his glass down, rose, went through the bow, the proper motions that weren’t automatic with Jase any longer. Jase bowed, belatedly—started to lay a hand on his shoulder in passing, and stopped in mid-motion, caught between cultures. “Your being here,” Bren said, “is a very good thing. I only wish the kids weren’t.”

“They’re safe on this floor, though.”

“They’re safe on this floor. Of that, at least right now, we’re sure.”

7

Uncle Tatiseigi’s staff had made them tea on their arrival, and his kitchen had sent out piles of little pastries while the rest of the household staff hurried as fast as they possibly could to make everything right in the guest quarters.

Cajeiri had only once ever been in Great-uncle’s apartment—really he was twice-great-uncle, but it was too long to say, and even Mother said just “uncle.” And it was no great surprise that Uncle’s Bujavid apartment was so much like Tirnamardi, full of fancy vases and hangings and antiques of which one had to be very, very careful, from the chandeliers overhead to the carpets underfoot, and the lighting was gold and so dim it always looked like oil lamps. Great-uncle had invited them there in spite of his antiques, and they were all on their best manners.

He was so glad he was not being shunted off to his parents’ apartment tonight.

The one who had to handle the surprise of their arrival and find room for them was Madam Saidin, who was the major domo for the apartment staff. Cajeiri knew her. She was a very kind, very good, very proper lady. She had taken care of nand’ Bren when Great-uncle had lent his apartment to nand’ Bren.

And she was just exactly the way he remembered her—graying and tall and thin and very solemn, with a little quirk of a smile when one least expected it. She was very good at running a staff, and seemed not at all disturbed by three human guests with a big parid’ja cage—the most unlikely combination any major domo had ever had to deal with, he was very sure. She immediately asked him very good questions, very quickly and privately—questions such as what was the human custom about where Irene should sleep, and did they wear nightclothes and would they be bathing together? And when he told her how they had arranged things at Tirnamardi, she gave quick, quiet orders and sent the staff into action just as if it was all the most ordinary thing in the world to have all this happen, with a very high security alert going on.

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