Over near the door Algini, clearly bored, stripped and oiled his gun, waiting. Bren smelled the oil. He didn’t need to look. He smelled the thousand scents that wafted through the open window. Curious, how many, many different scents a planet had, each freighted with significance.
Hadn’t taken him long at all to acclimate to negatively-curved horizons. He wondered if Jase would get queasy again, after being back in his element so long.
Deep sigh. A state near sleep, hindbrain running autopilot. The teacup was still safe in his hands. He probably should ask Algini to do the same maintenance for his gun, which, with Shawn’s computer attachment, was tucked into his gear.
Steps outside, ordinarily beneath his hearing, audible in the general hush. Algini got up.
Heavy steps. Several. Algini opened the door. Banichi and Jago were back.
“Bren-ji,” Banichi said, and came and sat down in the opposite chair, Jago standing behind him. Banichi set arms on his knees and leaned very close. “Tano has been out by the stables. He reports there have been numerous mecheiti here before the rain, for what that may mean, and now there are only five, besides ours. Cenedi is aware. Possibly it is as mundane as the movement of an Atageini herd to the hills, after use in the hunt. On the other hand, there might have been visitors here in the last few days that the lord has simply not mentioned.”
Tatiseigi, the old fox, had made a career of holding everyone’s secrets, and moving very suddenly in the direction that gained him most. A patrol sent out, and never mentioned? Visitors, from one faction or the other, a diplomatic mission from the Kadigidi?
And not a word yet about his carefully crafted letter to the Guild. His brain threatened to enter fog-state again, having ten new things to process, none of them pleasant.
“Dare we speak, nadiin-ji?”
Banichi moved his eyes to the left, a slight warning. Bren bit his lip, increasingly uneasy in this luxurious, secretive house, and needing, dammit, more information.
“Lord Tatiseigi has read your letter, nandi, and is considering the matter.”
So Ilisidi had sent it on, implying she thought it should be sent. Tatiseigi was considering. And Algini indicated they were fast running out of time.
Things absolutely had to be said. “Come,” he said to them, and went to the writing desk.
He enlivened the computer screen. Wrote:
I have a wild guess, nadiin-ji, where Tabini is: with Grigiji.
Leaning over his shoulder, they read it, absorbed that with a little gratifying expression of surprise and a glance exchanged between them.
He wrote further:
Algini says that the Kadigidi may make a move tonight. What Tano found at the stables may mean there has been diplomatic traffic from the Kadigidi—or from Tabini-aiji—or simply that there are more Atageini patrols out that his staff has never mentioned. One hopes for either of the last two.
Banichi signaled that he would answer. He dropped to one knee, took the computer, balancing it while he entered, hunt and peck with his much larger hand, and a telegraphic brevity:
The dowager says if Tatiseigi acts against her interests her staff will act against him, but that situation remains uncertain. She has considered Cenedi’s plan to move against the Kadigidi, which would seize the initiative and make it more sure that Tatiseigi cannot waver in his alliance with her. He has also proposed to her that the paidhi take the heir and withdraw to some unknown place, maybe Taiben. If the heir were not here, it would complicate the Kadigidi’s situation and divide their attention. Should something befall Cenedi and the dowager come to odds with our host, the boy would not be in Lord Tatiseigi’s hands.
My God, he thought, and reached for the computer.
Does she think she is in danger from Tatiseigi? I cannot believe Cenedi would give up Ilisidi as lost in that event. Whose interest is he protecting?
Banichi took the computer.
We are not confident in Cenedi’s plan. Cenedi may not survive a mission against the Kadigidi, with or without our assistance, and he will rely only on us, not on the Atageini staff. He strongly believes there are spies in the house. He mentions the primitive nature of much of the monitoring equipment and communication here, which will be penetrated by the Kadigidi in any determined attack, and may give them access to our transmissions. Tano and Algini might go with him, and their help would at least raise the odds of his success, but Murini is much more likely resident in Shejidan, which means a very difficult operation, whether to draw him out to his province, or go after him in the capital. Your staff is not willing to throw all resources into this mission. If Cenedi should fail and we were all with him, no one but Tatiseigi’s staff would protect you, Cajeiri, the dowager, and the resistance to Murini. This is not acceptable, and we will not take that course. We do not support Cenedi’s proposal.
He seized the computer, then hardly knew what to say.
It is absolutely not useful that the Guild see the heir as under my influence. I am the worst possible guardian for him. This is not feasible, nadiin-ji.
Jago reached for the machine. Typed:
If you are correct that the aiji is at the observatory, putting Cajeiri into his father’s hands would be one answer to criticism.
He wrote, in his turn, rapid fire:
I am by no means certain the aiji is there, nor do I have great hopes of reaching him with the boy in tow. And if I deliver him to his father—forgive me, nadiin-ji, but right now the dowager can attract the more conservative elements of the
aishidi’tat
, but Tabini-aiji is at disadvantage in that regard, and to have me and the boy join him does not answer the criticism of human influence in the situation. Does this house staff believe it can withstand an incursion tonight, granted Tatiseigi is being forthright with the dowager about his man’chi?
Banichi shrugged. “Baji-naji, Bren-ji.”
Dice-throw, that was to say. In Cenedi’s best plan, they were down to attempting to assassinate Murini, an aiji with a following, and all-out clan warfare, regional warfare, was likely as a consequence. This was where the Assassins’ Guild in Shejidan was supposed to step in, to declare which claimant to supreme power it supported. It should eliminate the loser and restore peace and balance.
But Cenedi would have the fat in the fire before the Guild could get into action, if Cenedi proceeded against Murini’s clan, Tatiseigi’s neighbors.
Unless his letter to the Guild could persuade Tatiseigi there was substance enough to throw his prestige behind it and affix his seal as a lord in support of his appeal, it would never reach the Guild at all.
Phoning that appeal in—was possible, if they could hijack a line; but a phone message was only informative. Legally, paper needed to be there, with house seals: the Guild operated by rules, with paper, with seals, with incontrovertible Filed evidence. A phone call had no legal standing.
But even if the physical letter did get there under seal, past all obstacles including Tatiseigi and Kadigidi interception, it was unlikely to produce immediate action. Unless the Guild had been waiting for some excuse to support Tabini, and fell upon his letter of appeal to the Guild as exactly the small legality they needed to have on record, they would not move fast enough.
Stalemate in the Guild. At best outcome, he was going to get a summons to a Guild hearing that would produce his safe conduct in a few days, but that did nothing to defend them tonight. Their immediate defense was in their own hands. The dowager’s young men, though decorative, were certainly not ornament. Neither, above all else, was Cenedi—who, yes, stood a marginal chance of doing exactly what he proposed: he was that good.
But the moment he left, then what did they get? Tatiseigi with the dowager under his roof and Cenedi off in Kadigidi territory? The heir here with her, in Tatiseigi’s hands?
It was a line of thought that he really, truly didn’t like.
He wrote:
The moment Cenedi separates himself from the dowager, we would have far less means under this roof to resist whatever Tatiseigi might decide to do.
Banichi replied:
Tatiseigi is ambitious. This has never changed. One doubts he would harm the dowager, but he would seize the upper hand if he could get it. Moving the heir out of his reach would mean the boy would not return to Tatiseigi unless the dowager sent for him.
His turn.
Has she agreed with Cenedi? Has she asked this of us?
Banichi nodded.
He wrote:
And it has to be done now, if it is to be done.
Another nod.
He wrote:
If my letter is to go out, it must go within the hour, it seems, or risk falling afoul of her plans. Is there no way to persuade the lord and the dowager to work together?
Banichi and Jago exchanged a look, and then Jago took the computer.
We have argued strongly with Cenedi to defend this house and not to make this assault into Kadigidi territory. Cenedi believes this house is ultimately indefensible and that it is safer to carry the attack to the Kadigidi rather than to rely on the lord’s antiquated equipment. We believe that his making this attack will be a fatal error, but we expect the dowager will allow it. She generally yields to Cenedi in such affairs. The security deficits are demonstrable, a surprise even to Cenedi, and we have no standing to dispute him.
He wrote:
Can I persuade her?
Banichi took the computer back this time, and thought a moment.
Find her another course.
Twice damn. As easy to move a river in spate than divert the dowager from her intentions, especially when she failed to trust her former lover and Cenedi’s was the only advice.
And they all sat and acted under a roof where they could not talk freely, not only for fear of Tatiseigi overhearing, but for fear of Kadigidi spies.
He took the computer back. “I shall write another letter, nadiin-ji. This one to her. Thank you.”
They understood. They left him to it, for what little time they might have. And he sat in front of the computer and buried his face in his hands, shutting out the light, trying to think.
Then he wrote:
Bren-paidhi to the esteemed aiji-dowager. Aiji-ma, if my continued presence in this household is in any wise a hindrance to negotiations you may see fit to conduct, I am prepared to withdraw and seek safety elsewhere. You might view a changed situation if you did not also bear the burden of protecting and defending me. I believe strongly that I can guess where Tabini is, and will undertake to reach him, since it seems little likely that I can reach Shejidan. I would also undertake to bring your grandson safely to his father if it seems wise or politic to you to entrust him to me. You might go with me, too, aiji-ma, but these are matters in which I can only offer alternatives, by no means advice to one wise and clever. The paidhi urges in the strongest terms that you spend no force agressively, but defend this house, allying yourself with Tatiseigi in that enterprise, with which he will much better agree. This close alliance between you and the Atageini, the paidhi believes, will not be what the opposition hopes to see, and the Kadigidi may be provoked into a succession of rash and expensive attacks which may wear down their forces and diminish their respect and their stature. One failure to penetrate your defenses will make them seem weaker than many have thought. Two failures will begin to make them look like fools. Three would cut deeply into their resources. And in the defense of Atageini land against the Kadigidi, one strongly suspects even Taiben would render assistance.
Most urgently I urge you to persuade Tatiseigi to send my letter to the Guild, as intervention by that body, if it could be moved, could save very many lives and preserve the peace.
Be assured I will abide by your wise decision.
I ask you to destroy this message utterly and send a message back with the bearer, with the confidence that I shall likewise destroy the message beyond recovery.
He wrote it out by hand, set his seal on it, and went and gave it to Banichi. “She will reply,” he said, and settled down to an intolerable wait, staring out the window, with nothing to think about but disasters, and routes, and defenses.
It took much longer than he hoped. Perhaps Ilisidi had taken offense at his advice. Perhaps she and Banichi and Cenedi were down the hall having a bitter argument, which might bar Banichi from further consultations.
Worst thought—Tatiseigi might have gotten curious, or tried to intercept his message or her reply.
Sit and wait. Sit and wait.
Steps approached the door. Banichi came in and brought him a sealed message.
“Stay,” Bren said. “Nadiin-ji, all of you.”
Everyone took chairs near him as he pried loose the wax seal and unrolled the tight curl of the message.
The aiji-dowager to the paidhi-aiji. When has the paidhi joined the Assassins? Your arguments have already made several trips here wearing Banichi’s face.
Damn, he thought. He’d failed.
In advance of any move against the Kadigidi, we have decided to consult our host regarding your interesting notion, and if he is amenable, to send one of our great-grandson’s attendants back to Taiben to test their willingness to join in defense.
Taiben. For God’s sake, it was not the point of his letter. It was a side argument.
If the Atageini will consent and if Taiben will respond to defend the Atageini, this would be unprecedented. But yours is an excellent proposal. There has never been such heredity as my great-grandson’s. He has always been one of my best ideas.
Tatiseigi has sent your letter by courier.
Come to the library for tea within the hour.
He felt a little light-headed as he passed the note to Banichi, who read it impassively, and then with a little lift of the brows Banichi passed it to Jago. It went from her to Algini, and to Tano, and Tano read it and proffered it back.