Protector: Foreigner #14, page 25
That was the motive for Komaji’s assassination. He was sure of it.
One of the chess pieces overthrown. Others were still on the board. The Kadagidi would still be worried about records Komaji might have left . . . and about what the aiji knew.
Komaji had borrowed money from Damiri . . . because of a financial difficulty he had gotten into. He had tried to get into Tabini’s residence, as he had said, to see his grandson. He had behaved with increasing irrationality, acting like a man in a rising panic, for reasons that would not make sense unless one knew what pressure had been brought to bear on him.
Had Komaji decided to change sides and spill everything? Was that why he’d been so desperate to get into Tabini’s apartment? If that was the case, once banished, he’d be in extreme danger—and ironically, the fact Tabini had cast him out would be a comfort to the Shadow Guild, an indication Komaji had not yet talked. And talking—would have been Komaji’s only way to save himself. His best and only hope would be to gather his nerve, enlist the nearest person to Tabini that he could personally reach from his isolation in Ajuri—and that was his former brother-in-law, his old adversary—his daughter’s uncle. Tatiseigi. Tatiseigi would have been Komaji’s way to get a message to Tabini. And that Komaji hadn’t reached Tatiseigi—was now Tatiseigi’s protection.
He didn’t say a thing about the hypothesis that had just assembled itself in his mind, predicated as it was on information he wasn’t actually supposed to possess, and on pure speculation, but damned if he wouldn’t discuss it with his aishid at the first opportunity.
Tatiseigi had ordered strong tea, and the servants went about pouring it, which ended discussion for a time. It took a time to empty a cup—but there was not a second cup asked for. Ilisidi set hers down with a click, Tatiseigi did, and Bren quietly put his down a third unfinished.
“We shall proceed with the holiday, nandiin,” Ilisidi said. “We shall be alert. We shall trust, pending further movements in our direction, that our precautions are enough and Ajuri will have to settle its own difficulties in due time. Not today. Not tomorrow. But they will be settled.”
That walk about the reception hall . . .
There had not already been some discussion of Ajuri’s situation, between the dowager and Damiri—had there?
14
There was no word of what was going on in the world. Antaro said they were ordered not to use the communications unit. Lucasi and Veijico had gone downstairs a while ago to try to find out what they could from house security. They had told Eisi to keep the door locked. It had been a while, and still they had not come back.
Cajeiri could see his guests were worried, though he tried to assure them they were safe here and that he was perfectly fine—Antaro and Jegari still had their sidearms, that they had worn on the ride, and any danger was far, far off to the north.
Footsteps approached the door. Antaro and Jegari got up. Cajeiri thought it might be Lucasi and Veijico, but it sounded wrong. A knock came, and someone tried the door.
Then Jase-aiji identified himself and his bodyguard, and that was all right. Eisi glanced back for permission, and Cajeiri nodded. Eisi unlocked the door and let them in.
“We know nothing useful,” Jase-aiji said, first off. “Except that nand’ Bren is downstairs with your great-grandmother, young gentleman, and Lord Tatiseigi, and one expects they are finding out all the details.” Then, in ship-speak: “The young lord’s grandfather is dead, his mother’s father, a lord in the north of the continent. Understand, the grandfather has been a threat. He had been told not to come back to Shejidan. Ever. But he was the lord of a northern clan, head of a major association. Someone killed him, and we need to know who did it, and why, and whether it was a personal feud or something to do with the government. Don’t expect the young lord to be upset about it. It was not a close relationship. Beyond that, just accept that this is one of those instances where our way of thinking and the atevi way of thinking are very different, and just carry on as if nothing had happened.”
“We’re not going to have to leave, are we?” Irene asked.
Cajeiri wondered that, too . . . not that they could leave the planet, but he did not want to leave Tirnamardi, and Jeichido, and all, and above all he did not want to have another war break out. It was his birthday in just a few days, and he did not want a war and he was furious at his grandfather, who had done his best to be inconvenient just one more time.
He was scared that it might turn out it was his mother who had done it, and that would make his father mad, and when they went back to the Bujavid for his birthday festivity, it was all going to come out right in front of his guests.
He was furious, but he did not think he ought to try to explain that to his guests. It all went back too far.
He could hardly stand it. He walked over to stand by the window, which made him not have to listen to Jase-aiji telling his guests everything was fine. A little breeze stirred the curtains, bringing a little welcome cold into the room—they had come in overheated and warm from exercise, and they had not even gotten a chance for their baths.
Antaro and Jegari came over near him, instinctive move—which helped a bit.
Jase-aiji was wrong that he was not upset. He was upset. He was very worried that all of this was going to upset his guests and make it so they would never, ever want to come down here again.
He was damned mad. That was what nand’ Bren would say.
“Young gentleman,” Jase-aiji said.
He took a deep breath, put on his best face, as mani would tell him to do, and was quite calm when he turned around.
“Nandi?”
“We shall be down the hall,” Jase-aiji said. “If you need us.”
“Thank you,” he said. Thank you was in order. Jase-aiji had certainly taken the trouble to look in on them. “We shall be fine.”
Jase-aiji and his guard left. Eisi shut and locked the door . . . which made the room feel less like a fortress than a prison.
“We are sorry,” Artur said in Ragi.
“I am fine,” he said. “Thank you, nadiin-ji.” He wanted a distraction. He went over to Boji’s cage. Boji had not trusted strange people in the room. He was rocking back and forth, clinging to the perch, and looking upset too.
He took Boji’s harness and leash from the little hook at the corner, and opened up the door to put it on. Boji started to get right onto his arm, then balked and wanted to smell his hand and his sleeve—of course: Boji smelled the mecheita, and licked his hand, finding it curious, and a little upsetting.
He had the harness. He slipped it over Boji’s head and under his chest and very quickly did the little buckle that secured it, keeping the leash in his last two fingers as he did. Boji fidgeted, Boji bounced around and chittered at him, bounced from him to the cage top.
Boji was an excellent distraction. His guests came over to see Boji, and he called for an egg and let Irene feed it to him.
Boji liked that. He even sat on Irene’s shoulder, and she gave an anxious laugh and flinched as Boji grabbed her loose hair.
They were rescuing Irene from Boji’s grip when a knock came at the door.
This time it was nand’ Bren and his aishid, and they came in.
“Nandi, nadiin,” nand’ Bren said. “You had the news about your grandfather, nandi.”
“He was assassinated, nandi. That was what we heard.” Boji had climbed onto his shoulder, and he held the leash with enough slack to let Boji bound over to his cage top, where Boji liked to sit at times. “Was it in Ajuri?”
“In a tributary clan’s territory. We still do not know the reason, or the person who ordered it—perhaps some quarrel inside Ajuri. We see no reason to be concerned at present. This could change, but your great-grandmother sees no reason to change the security level here or to make any alterations in plans.”
He let go a breath, much, much happier at that news. It was a little odd to think that Grandfather was no longer in the world at all—but evidently his mother had not Filed on her father, and he could not imagine that his father had done it—he was, for a few days, still only infelicitous eight, but he knew enough of the politics to know that two actions against his grandfather in a very short number of days was inelegant, and his father had just taken one extreme action in throwing him and all the Ajuri staff out of the Bujavid.
No, his father wouldn’t have done it, not without extreme provocation, and if that were the case, nand’ Bren would tell him.
So there would be a new lord of Ajuri. He hoped it was not going to be his mother.
But that was all too complicated to talk about in front of his guests.
“Is my mother still with my father?” he asked. That was what he wanted to know, and that would tell him everything.
Likely nand’ Bren knew exactly what he was asking, and Bren answered quite cheerfully: “Yes, young gentleman, and they both are safe.”
The way he said it, and the way he added that second part was a relief. He hoped it was the truth.
But nand’ Bren was particularly bad at lying, and rarely tried to. And nand’ Bren had come from talking to mani and Great-uncle, so he knew the latest, and nand’ Bren’s bodyguard was usually very well-informed.
He thought then, If Mother did not do this, Great-grandmother could have. Moving us all out here and moving all these bodyguards in, getting Great-uncle to deal with the Taibeni . . .
Boji grabbed the tail end of his queue ribbon, which Boji sometimes untied, a trick he knew got immediate attention.
“Stop that!” He was immediately at disadvantage, and Boji, sitting on the cage, had him caught.
Nand’ Bren, amused, reached out to intervene. “Is he going to bite me, young gentleman?”
“He does not, often.” He was annoyed and amused at once, and he could not, even by twisting his body, get at Boji’s hand. Nand’ Bren’s reach, however, frightened Boji, who let go and bounded across the cage top, rattling it all the way.
“Boji! Behave.” He still had the end of the leash, which had a clip, and secured the leash onto the sturdy metal fretwork of the cage. “Stay there, and hush, Boji.”
Boji, who regarded no authority, chittered at him.
His ribbon was probably a sad thing, since the ride, and now Boji’s attentions.
“Are we to be let out now, nandi?” he asked. “We have not gotten our baths.”
“By all means. We have the bath at our end, you have this one, and one is certain your guests will by no means be insulted if Eisi guides them to the servant baths on this floor and the next above. Everyone will feel better. And if we are not all too sore to walk tomorrow, we shall take another ride.”
He brightened entirely. “One hopes so, nand’ Bren! One really hopes so.”
“There should be a light late lunch, served to the room. Staff is getting to work. Enjoy your guests. There will be music tonight: I understand your great-uncle has arranged it. And there should be nothing to trouble you. Your great-grandmother is determined that nothing will spoil your time here.”
“One is grateful,” he said, and Bren bowed and headed for the door, stopping to have a word with Eisi and Lieidi, probably about the baths, and Banichi and Jago had been talking to Antaro and Jegari, probably about security.
But they were all right. He felt a great deal better, after what nand’ Bren had said. Great-grandmother was determined that he should have his birthday, no matter what. Nobody had ever quite put him at the top of priorities, not even his father and mother. He was quite struck by the notion of having someone like mani protecting what he wanted and bent on having that happen.
Boji had come back to the cage edge. He absently stroked Boji’s head and scratched his cheek, which got a happy clicking sound out of Boji, who had quite settled down.
“Eisi-ji,” he said, “Ledi-ji, we shall all need baths, did nand’ Bren explain about that? We shall be happy to use the servant baths if we may. A maid to attend Irene-nadi. And then we shall meet back here and have lunch.” He saw his guests much more cheerful. “We are promised we are all quite safe, and there is no trouble at all.”
• • •
Baths were a very good place for a quiet discussion, and Bren and Jase sat and soaked in the communal bath.
Banichi was in attendance, at the moment—guarding the door and assuring their privacy even from trusted staff, so that discussion was not a problem.
A few more details had come in. Komaji had been moving south, toward Atageini territory. The Taibeni had moved to within striking distance, while staying within Taibeni territory, and not made any secret of it. That threatened Komaji. Komaji had begun to move, not toward, but away from that encounter.
And, as he was getting into a small bus, one of four vehicles, the bus and three trucks, involved in the movement, he had been struck down by one very accurate shot. No one else had been hit. No one had seen the shooter.
It could have been Taibeni. There was no reason for the Taibeni lord not to have done it, no consequence but a continuation of a two-hundred-year-old feud if he declared he had done it, and the Taibeni had no desire at all to make peace with Ajuri clan.
But the Taibeni lord had hastily informed both Shejidan and the units assigned here at Tirnamardi that Taibeni had not done it, and that he believed the style of the assassination, a shot from a small woods, was deliberately arranged to make it appear they had.
Bren personally laid his bets on the Taibeni telling the truth, particularly as it would look very bad to make such a move right now, while they had members of their clan sitting encamped on Tatiseigi’s grounds. If they were going to do it, it would have been better politics to wait until the aiji’s son was not also sitting in Tatiseigi’s house. The messiness of that move—no. Even the Taibeni’s several enemies would not believe it.
That still left a lengthy list of those who would have done it, quite cheerfully.
“Lady Damiri,” Bren said out of that thought, “is pretty well out of the question. Her bodyguard was dismissed. They could still be suspect, operating on her behalf, possibly on orders given before their dismissal, but we actually suspect they were reporting to Komaji. Her current staff is the dowager’s.” That was no guarantee, he thought. “She has been upset, but she would not act for emotional reasons, not on that scale. I think we can eliminate any of Tabini’s house, our host—”
“The dowager herself?” Jase asked quietly. “That has to be asked.”
“Perfectly possible,” Bren said, “except there’s no reason for her to deny it. And not without a proper Filing.”
“If it’s an in-clan action, policy says I’m not officially interested.” Deep breath. “Humanly speaking—I’m entirely damned curious. How many Ajuri lords is that, just in the last decade?”
“Going on four,” Bren said. “The succession in Ajuri is a problem. Has been a problem for generations. You can see why Tabini doesn’t want Damiri under that roof, and he damned sure doesn’t want his son taking the lordship. That’s Komaji’s whole branch. His half brother died, likely with help, without an heir, so it’s the end of that entire line, except for a handful of females who lack the disposition and backing to rule. It has to go to a completely new branch now. There are two, and it may be a noisy transition.”
Far, far too noisy, Komaji. From his highly dubious ascension, to his equally dubious ending. He had started out doing very well for Ajuri clan—a little too ambitious, perhaps, and then far too ambitious, culminating in that final, jealousy-driven assault on Tabini’s apartments, damaging to the clan’s interests, possibly for years to come.
If there were records left in Ajuri—he’d bet those were already ashes.
“Politics,” Jase said. “But you think we’re safe.”
“Physically safe.” Bren said. “Nothing’s crossing the hedge. Nothing’s passing the gate. And down here, your problems generally come in two dimensions, not three. We’re all right. Or at least—all right enough.”
“Two dimensions.” Jase shook his head. “But with far more cover.”
• • •
Lunch was mid-afternoon, very late, after their baths, and served in the suite rather than down in the dining rooms, but it was good, and they could sit in their casual clothes and be comfortable—even if they were all a little sore in places it was not polite to mention.
They talked about the morning, the ride. And Lucasi and Veijico, who had come back in time for baths and lunch, told what they had heard downstairs. Cajeiri translated the important parts, and then—
Then he told them story after story about Grandfather, including the night Grandfather had tried to get into the apartment when he was there with just a reduced staff and the servants. He told about his father banning his grandfather from the Bujavid, which really meant he had to stay out of the city, too.
Gene said, after a little silence, “If you act like that on the station, you get arrested, and they cancel all your cards and keys, and there you are, until they figure out how dangerous you are.” Gene added, with a downward glance, “I lost all my cards for sixty days, this year. But I was right.”
“I let Gene use mine,” Artur said.
“I got him into places,” Irene said. “And Bjorn did.”
They would have done that. Cajeiri entirely approved. And Gene told him why he had gotten in trouble—he was trying to get into the atevi section of the station where humans were not supposed to be—like the mainland and Mospheira.
And Gene told what it was like to get arrested on the station, if one did not have a person like mani to straighten things out, or a father to call on, just one’s own cleverness, and the cleverness of one’s associates. He made it funny, even if he had been worried at the time. For a while, listening to their adventures on the station, it was like being back on the ship.
His guests wanted to hear, too, about the escapes he had had, and how it was, when he had flown back with mani and nand’ Bren and they had had to do all sorts of things, like riding on a train with fish, to get here to Tirnamardi without being shot or caught. He had written about it in the letters, but he had been very careful what he wrote, then, especially careful about naming names; and now they wanted to hear it all, through two rounds of tea and cakes.
One of the chess pieces overthrown. Others were still on the board. The Kadagidi would still be worried about records Komaji might have left . . . and about what the aiji knew.
Komaji had borrowed money from Damiri . . . because of a financial difficulty he had gotten into. He had tried to get into Tabini’s residence, as he had said, to see his grandson. He had behaved with increasing irrationality, acting like a man in a rising panic, for reasons that would not make sense unless one knew what pressure had been brought to bear on him.
Had Komaji decided to change sides and spill everything? Was that why he’d been so desperate to get into Tabini’s apartment? If that was the case, once banished, he’d be in extreme danger—and ironically, the fact Tabini had cast him out would be a comfort to the Shadow Guild, an indication Komaji had not yet talked. And talking—would have been Komaji’s only way to save himself. His best and only hope would be to gather his nerve, enlist the nearest person to Tabini that he could personally reach from his isolation in Ajuri—and that was his former brother-in-law, his old adversary—his daughter’s uncle. Tatiseigi. Tatiseigi would have been Komaji’s way to get a message to Tabini. And that Komaji hadn’t reached Tatiseigi—was now Tatiseigi’s protection.
He didn’t say a thing about the hypothesis that had just assembled itself in his mind, predicated as it was on information he wasn’t actually supposed to possess, and on pure speculation, but damned if he wouldn’t discuss it with his aishid at the first opportunity.
Tatiseigi had ordered strong tea, and the servants went about pouring it, which ended discussion for a time. It took a time to empty a cup—but there was not a second cup asked for. Ilisidi set hers down with a click, Tatiseigi did, and Bren quietly put his down a third unfinished.
“We shall proceed with the holiday, nandiin,” Ilisidi said. “We shall be alert. We shall trust, pending further movements in our direction, that our precautions are enough and Ajuri will have to settle its own difficulties in due time. Not today. Not tomorrow. But they will be settled.”
That walk about the reception hall . . .
There had not already been some discussion of Ajuri’s situation, between the dowager and Damiri—had there?
14
There was no word of what was going on in the world. Antaro said they were ordered not to use the communications unit. Lucasi and Veijico had gone downstairs a while ago to try to find out what they could from house security. They had told Eisi to keep the door locked. It had been a while, and still they had not come back.
Cajeiri could see his guests were worried, though he tried to assure them they were safe here and that he was perfectly fine—Antaro and Jegari still had their sidearms, that they had worn on the ride, and any danger was far, far off to the north.
Footsteps approached the door. Antaro and Jegari got up. Cajeiri thought it might be Lucasi and Veijico, but it sounded wrong. A knock came, and someone tried the door.
Then Jase-aiji identified himself and his bodyguard, and that was all right. Eisi glanced back for permission, and Cajeiri nodded. Eisi unlocked the door and let them in.
“We know nothing useful,” Jase-aiji said, first off. “Except that nand’ Bren is downstairs with your great-grandmother, young gentleman, and Lord Tatiseigi, and one expects they are finding out all the details.” Then, in ship-speak: “The young lord’s grandfather is dead, his mother’s father, a lord in the north of the continent. Understand, the grandfather has been a threat. He had been told not to come back to Shejidan. Ever. But he was the lord of a northern clan, head of a major association. Someone killed him, and we need to know who did it, and why, and whether it was a personal feud or something to do with the government. Don’t expect the young lord to be upset about it. It was not a close relationship. Beyond that, just accept that this is one of those instances where our way of thinking and the atevi way of thinking are very different, and just carry on as if nothing had happened.”
“We’re not going to have to leave, are we?” Irene asked.
Cajeiri wondered that, too . . . not that they could leave the planet, but he did not want to leave Tirnamardi, and Jeichido, and all, and above all he did not want to have another war break out. It was his birthday in just a few days, and he did not want a war and he was furious at his grandfather, who had done his best to be inconvenient just one more time.
He was scared that it might turn out it was his mother who had done it, and that would make his father mad, and when they went back to the Bujavid for his birthday festivity, it was all going to come out right in front of his guests.
He was furious, but he did not think he ought to try to explain that to his guests. It all went back too far.
He could hardly stand it. He walked over to stand by the window, which made him not have to listen to Jase-aiji telling his guests everything was fine. A little breeze stirred the curtains, bringing a little welcome cold into the room—they had come in overheated and warm from exercise, and they had not even gotten a chance for their baths.
Antaro and Jegari came over near him, instinctive move—which helped a bit.
Jase-aiji was wrong that he was not upset. He was upset. He was very worried that all of this was going to upset his guests and make it so they would never, ever want to come down here again.
He was damned mad. That was what nand’ Bren would say.
“Young gentleman,” Jase-aiji said.
He took a deep breath, put on his best face, as mani would tell him to do, and was quite calm when he turned around.
“Nandi?”
“We shall be down the hall,” Jase-aiji said. “If you need us.”
“Thank you,” he said. Thank you was in order. Jase-aiji had certainly taken the trouble to look in on them. “We shall be fine.”
Jase-aiji and his guard left. Eisi shut and locked the door . . . which made the room feel less like a fortress than a prison.
“We are sorry,” Artur said in Ragi.
“I am fine,” he said. “Thank you, nadiin-ji.” He wanted a distraction. He went over to Boji’s cage. Boji had not trusted strange people in the room. He was rocking back and forth, clinging to the perch, and looking upset too.
He took Boji’s harness and leash from the little hook at the corner, and opened up the door to put it on. Boji started to get right onto his arm, then balked and wanted to smell his hand and his sleeve—of course: Boji smelled the mecheita, and licked his hand, finding it curious, and a little upsetting.
He had the harness. He slipped it over Boji’s head and under his chest and very quickly did the little buckle that secured it, keeping the leash in his last two fingers as he did. Boji fidgeted, Boji bounced around and chittered at him, bounced from him to the cage top.
Boji was an excellent distraction. His guests came over to see Boji, and he called for an egg and let Irene feed it to him.
Boji liked that. He even sat on Irene’s shoulder, and she gave an anxious laugh and flinched as Boji grabbed her loose hair.
They were rescuing Irene from Boji’s grip when a knock came at the door.
This time it was nand’ Bren and his aishid, and they came in.
“Nandi, nadiin,” nand’ Bren said. “You had the news about your grandfather, nandi.”
“He was assassinated, nandi. That was what we heard.” Boji had climbed onto his shoulder, and he held the leash with enough slack to let Boji bound over to his cage top, where Boji liked to sit at times. “Was it in Ajuri?”
“In a tributary clan’s territory. We still do not know the reason, or the person who ordered it—perhaps some quarrel inside Ajuri. We see no reason to be concerned at present. This could change, but your great-grandmother sees no reason to change the security level here or to make any alterations in plans.”
He let go a breath, much, much happier at that news. It was a little odd to think that Grandfather was no longer in the world at all—but evidently his mother had not Filed on her father, and he could not imagine that his father had done it—he was, for a few days, still only infelicitous eight, but he knew enough of the politics to know that two actions against his grandfather in a very short number of days was inelegant, and his father had just taken one extreme action in throwing him and all the Ajuri staff out of the Bujavid.
No, his father wouldn’t have done it, not without extreme provocation, and if that were the case, nand’ Bren would tell him.
So there would be a new lord of Ajuri. He hoped it was not going to be his mother.
But that was all too complicated to talk about in front of his guests.
“Is my mother still with my father?” he asked. That was what he wanted to know, and that would tell him everything.
Likely nand’ Bren knew exactly what he was asking, and Bren answered quite cheerfully: “Yes, young gentleman, and they both are safe.”
The way he said it, and the way he added that second part was a relief. He hoped it was the truth.
But nand’ Bren was particularly bad at lying, and rarely tried to. And nand’ Bren had come from talking to mani and Great-uncle, so he knew the latest, and nand’ Bren’s bodyguard was usually very well-informed.
He thought then, If Mother did not do this, Great-grandmother could have. Moving us all out here and moving all these bodyguards in, getting Great-uncle to deal with the Taibeni . . .
Boji grabbed the tail end of his queue ribbon, which Boji sometimes untied, a trick he knew got immediate attention.
“Stop that!” He was immediately at disadvantage, and Boji, sitting on the cage, had him caught.
Nand’ Bren, amused, reached out to intervene. “Is he going to bite me, young gentleman?”
“He does not, often.” He was annoyed and amused at once, and he could not, even by twisting his body, get at Boji’s hand. Nand’ Bren’s reach, however, frightened Boji, who let go and bounded across the cage top, rattling it all the way.
“Boji! Behave.” He still had the end of the leash, which had a clip, and secured the leash onto the sturdy metal fretwork of the cage. “Stay there, and hush, Boji.”
Boji, who regarded no authority, chittered at him.
His ribbon was probably a sad thing, since the ride, and now Boji’s attentions.
“Are we to be let out now, nandi?” he asked. “We have not gotten our baths.”
“By all means. We have the bath at our end, you have this one, and one is certain your guests will by no means be insulted if Eisi guides them to the servant baths on this floor and the next above. Everyone will feel better. And if we are not all too sore to walk tomorrow, we shall take another ride.”
He brightened entirely. “One hopes so, nand’ Bren! One really hopes so.”
“There should be a light late lunch, served to the room. Staff is getting to work. Enjoy your guests. There will be music tonight: I understand your great-uncle has arranged it. And there should be nothing to trouble you. Your great-grandmother is determined that nothing will spoil your time here.”
“One is grateful,” he said, and Bren bowed and headed for the door, stopping to have a word with Eisi and Lieidi, probably about the baths, and Banichi and Jago had been talking to Antaro and Jegari, probably about security.
But they were all right. He felt a great deal better, after what nand’ Bren had said. Great-grandmother was determined that he should have his birthday, no matter what. Nobody had ever quite put him at the top of priorities, not even his father and mother. He was quite struck by the notion of having someone like mani protecting what he wanted and bent on having that happen.
Boji had come back to the cage edge. He absently stroked Boji’s head and scratched his cheek, which got a happy clicking sound out of Boji, who had quite settled down.
“Eisi-ji,” he said, “Ledi-ji, we shall all need baths, did nand’ Bren explain about that? We shall be happy to use the servant baths if we may. A maid to attend Irene-nadi. And then we shall meet back here and have lunch.” He saw his guests much more cheerful. “We are promised we are all quite safe, and there is no trouble at all.”
• • •
Baths were a very good place for a quiet discussion, and Bren and Jase sat and soaked in the communal bath.
Banichi was in attendance, at the moment—guarding the door and assuring their privacy even from trusted staff, so that discussion was not a problem.
A few more details had come in. Komaji had been moving south, toward Atageini territory. The Taibeni had moved to within striking distance, while staying within Taibeni territory, and not made any secret of it. That threatened Komaji. Komaji had begun to move, not toward, but away from that encounter.
And, as he was getting into a small bus, one of four vehicles, the bus and three trucks, involved in the movement, he had been struck down by one very accurate shot. No one else had been hit. No one had seen the shooter.
It could have been Taibeni. There was no reason for the Taibeni lord not to have done it, no consequence but a continuation of a two-hundred-year-old feud if he declared he had done it, and the Taibeni had no desire at all to make peace with Ajuri clan.
But the Taibeni lord had hastily informed both Shejidan and the units assigned here at Tirnamardi that Taibeni had not done it, and that he believed the style of the assassination, a shot from a small woods, was deliberately arranged to make it appear they had.
Bren personally laid his bets on the Taibeni telling the truth, particularly as it would look very bad to make such a move right now, while they had members of their clan sitting encamped on Tatiseigi’s grounds. If they were going to do it, it would have been better politics to wait until the aiji’s son was not also sitting in Tatiseigi’s house. The messiness of that move—no. Even the Taibeni’s several enemies would not believe it.
That still left a lengthy list of those who would have done it, quite cheerfully.
“Lady Damiri,” Bren said out of that thought, “is pretty well out of the question. Her bodyguard was dismissed. They could still be suspect, operating on her behalf, possibly on orders given before their dismissal, but we actually suspect they were reporting to Komaji. Her current staff is the dowager’s.” That was no guarantee, he thought. “She has been upset, but she would not act for emotional reasons, not on that scale. I think we can eliminate any of Tabini’s house, our host—”
“The dowager herself?” Jase asked quietly. “That has to be asked.”
“Perfectly possible,” Bren said, “except there’s no reason for her to deny it. And not without a proper Filing.”
“If it’s an in-clan action, policy says I’m not officially interested.” Deep breath. “Humanly speaking—I’m entirely damned curious. How many Ajuri lords is that, just in the last decade?”
“Going on four,” Bren said. “The succession in Ajuri is a problem. Has been a problem for generations. You can see why Tabini doesn’t want Damiri under that roof, and he damned sure doesn’t want his son taking the lordship. That’s Komaji’s whole branch. His half brother died, likely with help, without an heir, so it’s the end of that entire line, except for a handful of females who lack the disposition and backing to rule. It has to go to a completely new branch now. There are two, and it may be a noisy transition.”
Far, far too noisy, Komaji. From his highly dubious ascension, to his equally dubious ending. He had started out doing very well for Ajuri clan—a little too ambitious, perhaps, and then far too ambitious, culminating in that final, jealousy-driven assault on Tabini’s apartments, damaging to the clan’s interests, possibly for years to come.
If there were records left in Ajuri—he’d bet those were already ashes.
“Politics,” Jase said. “But you think we’re safe.”
“Physically safe.” Bren said. “Nothing’s crossing the hedge. Nothing’s passing the gate. And down here, your problems generally come in two dimensions, not three. We’re all right. Or at least—all right enough.”
“Two dimensions.” Jase shook his head. “But with far more cover.”
• • •
Lunch was mid-afternoon, very late, after their baths, and served in the suite rather than down in the dining rooms, but it was good, and they could sit in their casual clothes and be comfortable—even if they were all a little sore in places it was not polite to mention.
They talked about the morning, the ride. And Lucasi and Veijico, who had come back in time for baths and lunch, told what they had heard downstairs. Cajeiri translated the important parts, and then—
Then he told them story after story about Grandfather, including the night Grandfather had tried to get into the apartment when he was there with just a reduced staff and the servants. He told about his father banning his grandfather from the Bujavid, which really meant he had to stay out of the city, too.
Gene said, after a little silence, “If you act like that on the station, you get arrested, and they cancel all your cards and keys, and there you are, until they figure out how dangerous you are.” Gene added, with a downward glance, “I lost all my cards for sixty days, this year. But I was right.”
“I let Gene use mine,” Artur said.
“I got him into places,” Irene said. “And Bjorn did.”
They would have done that. Cajeiri entirely approved. And Gene told him why he had gotten in trouble—he was trying to get into the atevi section of the station where humans were not supposed to be—like the mainland and Mospheira.
And Gene told what it was like to get arrested on the station, if one did not have a person like mani to straighten things out, or a father to call on, just one’s own cleverness, and the cleverness of one’s associates. He made it funny, even if he had been worried at the time. For a while, listening to their adventures on the station, it was like being back on the ship.
His guests wanted to hear, too, about the escapes he had had, and how it was, when he had flown back with mani and nand’ Bren and they had had to do all sorts of things, like riding on a train with fish, to get here to Tirnamardi without being shot or caught. He had written about it in the letters, but he had been very careful what he wrote, then, especially careful about naming names; and now they wanted to hear it all, through two rounds of tea and cakes.
