Intruder (36 page)

Arcane stuff. But it mattered to the traditionalists. It mattered because it contained history and subtext. That Lord Tatiseigi, traditionalist to the hilt, and Geigi, a Rational Determinist and a modernist, sat there comparing ancestors was amazing. Just amazing. The time had been when those two had been bitter, bitter opponents on the grounds of the very ancestors they now compared.

And then…

Then there came into question, not quite a case of business at dinner, the matter of the Marid and the porcelains and the ravages to Lord Geigi’s personal collections. Geigi and Tatiseigi had the passion for porcelains in common as well, and, starting from the ancestor who had started Tatiseigi’s collection, the dinner dwindled down to last courses in the completely esoteric discussion of green glazes, which was
so
much better than might have been. There was not a whisper yet about Lord Machigi.

But in conclusion of the meal, Ilisidi of course offered brandy in the sitting room, which would be the venue for serious, even disagreeable discussion, and Bren braced himself.

“One would very much wish to attend the after-dinner sitting, mani,” Cajeiri said quietly. “One will not say a thing, even if one should wish to.”

It was Ilisidi the lad addressed. Lord Tatiseigi looked a little put out at the idea, and he probably wanted to say the boy belonged home in bed at this hour.

But the things at issue were matters Cajeiri knew intimately—quite intimately, the boy having seen far too much of the warfare on the peninsula. Ilisidi had not withheld information of that sort from the boy. Ever.

“You will remember your promise,” Ilisidi said, “Great-grandson.”

“One assuredly will, Great-grandmother.”

“So, well,” Ilisidi said, and gathered up her cane, which her bodyguard Cenedi slipped conveniently under her hand in the same moment he moved her chair back. Ilisidi gathered herself to her feet, they all got up and filed out of the room, bodyguards arranging themselves as they went—Cajeiri’s youngsters adding a little confusion and inexperience to the process, but Cenedi sorted it out quietly behind them.

So they settled in the sitting-room, with brandy and one iced fruit juice—and faced one another for what was not going to be such a nice conversation.

“One does not wish, aiji-ma,” Tatiseigi said, “to offend young ears. But one must speak.”

“You will not offend him,” Ilisidi. “Nor, one hopes, Tati-ji, will our efforts to have peace in the south displease you. You know how very long we have desired a settlement, we do know that you hold opposing views in the interest of your region, and, fortunate third, we do hope to satisfy all your objections, because we have had them particularly in mind while arranging the agreements. You have been our instructor and our constant thought while we were working these things out. Do kindly hear us out before you frame an opinion.”

Neatly
managed, Bren thought. A magnificent segue, delivered almost while the old man was drawing breath to object.

“Well, well,” Tatiseigi said, frowning, “but understand—” He
used the all-inclusive plural. “—our objections reside in our concern for the aishidi’tat, which is an irreplaceable structure.”

“To that we heartily agree, nandi,” Geigi said. “And, speaking as one who has sometimes been at odds, but no longer, one hopes—we greatly appreciate your position. The aiji-dowager has often cited your opinions, and one now greatly appreciates the wisdom of your position, nandi. When one was young, one was far more reckless, but time and events are persuasive. Your objections are wisely made, and must be respected.”

Tatiseigi blinked. Twice, parsing that for traps, and Bren parsed it a second time himself, in some little admiration. God, Geigi had grown in office. Ilisidi looked on that with her usual calm demeanor and smiled a sweet little smile.

“So we do,” she said, “always consult with Lord Tatiseigi.”

The paidhi-aiji could hardly top that opening statement. He sat there sipping his brandy very cautiously, saying only, “One absolutely concurs, aiji-ma. Nandiin.”

“Well, well, well,” Tatiseigi said, a little flustered, and took a sip of his own glass. “Let me then advise you of my concern that
any
improved rail link will immediately become a conduit for spies and mayhem. That
any
increased trade with the South will upset the economy by competing against northern industry.”

“On the latter, we rely on your excellent knowledge of the northern economy to advise us,” Ilisidi said. “It will be extremely easy at this stage to make provisions to protect these northern enterprises, whether by making them more competitive or by managing import from the south. Not forgetting there will be export from the north, which may offer profit.”

“Export. These bare-elbowed folk in the south can hardly afford our goods.”

“Indeed,” Geigi said, “but an improved economy in the south will mean they can, and will want them, in increasing numbers. This is a major new market once it has elevated its standard of living.”

“They are a lazy, contentious lot,” Tatiseigi said, “who had rather waste their substance in war than improve their own living. The black market dominates their economy.”

“This has not been their choice,” Bren felt obliged to say. “Nandiin, they have maintained leaders whose warlike nature has made them feel safer—not that it has made them safe, but the reputation for violence has in fact defended them from the other clans in the Marid.
That
is the sort of choice the aiji-dowager has undertaken to change. She has identified one warlord with a vision exceeding his predecessors, and in consequence of his talent, he has become a target of his neighbors—with a good result for the aishidi’tat, because it has necessitated his accepting the guilds into the Marid to a degree that will profoundly change the politics of the district. But the guilds cannot effect a beneficial change without direction applied from the north and the east.”

“Setting up a massive clan structure in that district to rival the Ragi,” Tatiseigi muttered, “is dangerous. Destabilizing to the entire aishdi’tat.”

“For all his days, Tati-ji,” Ilisidi said, “Lord Machigi will be engaged in building up his merchants and his shippers and enriching the people of the Marid. He will have no time for adventures of a political nature, and once he has wealthy merchants under his roof, he will have the same constraints as does my grandson. Wealthy merchants, save those selling munitions, do not like war in their own region of operation, and we shall have the Marid trading in porcelains and textiles, wood products, foodstuffs—anything
but
munitions.”

“For now, Sidi-ji. But the next leader—”

“Should any future leader of the Marid step out of those bounds, the Guilds will be quite sure he does not step far…just as the Guilds constrain us in Shejidan. That is the profound difference in this agreement, Tati-ji. Machigi has taken the Guilds to bed, and now he is wed to them. So will his successors be.”

Tatiseigi was quiet for a moment, head tilted to one side. “And these foreigners in the heavens the paidhi-aiji warns us of? What when they appear? What when they play one region against the other? Or incite the humans against us? We cannot be divided.”

“Precisely,” Ilisidi said, “we cannot be divided. Nor shall we be. The Guild will see to that.”

The Guild, Bren thought, was not the argument he would have picked—given what he had learned from Tabini.

But Tatiseigi sat still, the brandy in his hand, and then he emptied it at a gulp and held out his glass for another.

Servants moved. No one else did, except Cajeiri was swinging his feet. And stopped in the general hush.

Tatiseigi took another sip. “You believe this as fact.”

“We believe it,” Ilisidi said, and for a dizzy, strange moment, Bren thought,
Could
she
be behind what’s been going on in the Guild? At least…the current upheaval?

“You believe you have the means to restrain this wild southerner, Sidi-ji.”

“We have the means to remove this wild southerner, should he prove unwise. And he knows it.”

“One will concede to
you,
Sidi-ji.”

Feet swung. Abruptly stopped. Cajeiri piped up: “My father will back Great-grandmother. One is quite sure.”

There was a moment of surprise, a little shock, that Cajeiri had an opinion.

“The renegades shot at us,” Cajeiri continued doggedly. “They blew up a truck. They attacked everybody and tried to get them to fight. But we
stopped
them. They wanted to set Lord Machigi’s enemy in Dojisigi and assassinate Lord Machigi, so Lord Machigi has
had
to ally with mani. And she will not let him go.” Feet swung again, and stopped. “My father is keeping quiet because of politics. But we think he backs mani.”

“So do we back your great-grandmother, nandi,” Geigi said. “So does the entire West, and that is another district that has been, until
now, too unsettled to unify. If we take this course, Lord of the Atageini, with the solidity of your great prestige, the whole West agrees to fight our legal battles in the legislature and in court and accept the results…and this agreement now includes those peoples now called tribal districts. We have also gained the Lord of Dur in agreement, bringing in his region. We have Maschi clan agreed, and, for once, the whole Marid is under one authority, who sees nothing more profitable for him than agreement. Should Machigi break this alliance, we here will maintain our association and deal with it, but more, for the first time the
Guild
will be in place to deal with it. So Machigi will no longer be able to think that he is out of reach of consequences. He is now as vulnerable to the Guild as any other lord. It is a new situation, nandi. I put by all quarrels in the interests of having this agreement work.”

“Even abandoning the matter of your sister,” Tatiseigi said bluntly.

“If I do, she will have died to some higher purpose, nandi, than the usual regional dispute. She will have died for something worth dying for. In order for us to deliver the conditions in which the agreement of Machigi and Sidi-ji can work, the tribal districts have to be at peace, and to put them at peace, the legislature has to approve their admission to the aishidi’tat and remove them from dependency on my clan. I back that proposal. One hopes, nandi, one extravagantly hopes for your vote in support.”

“One asks,” Ilisidi said, “Tati-ji.
Try
our way. We have ample recourse if it fails. We have built in precautions such as your objections have suggested, notably Guild action. We need you, Tati-ji.”

There was a moment of stark silence. Then a nod from Tatiseigi. “We shall agree,” Tatiseigi said, jaw clamped as if he were forcing the words. “You know, Sidi-ji, the political cost of this will be heavy.”

“You will gain, Tati-ji, and you may suffer the jealousy of your neighbors for that. We know the risk—and we know some of
your neighbors, as do you. We ask you not visit Tirnamardi at any time in the coming weeks. We offer personnel to secure and protect Tirnamardi.”

“They will
not
be Taibeni, Sidi-ji!”

“They will not be Taibeni.”

God—inserting more bodyguards onto Tatiseigi’s staff?
Maybe
somebody who could wade in, replace several antiquated and overly expensive security systems, and get decisions made. That was his first thought: Tatiseigi assassinated and his vital succession over Atageini Clan coming down to Cajeiri would be monumental.

Second thought: Under ordinary circumstances, Tatiseigi would have set his feet and demanded favors or outright refused; but the old man was not stupid. By backing the agreement, he had great reason to worry about his next-door neighbors and strongest rivals, the Kadagidi, who were trying to regain their political power and would use it for capital…but by opposing Ilisidi, he set himself aside as useless, because he assuredly would never back the Kadagidi.

Cajeiri’s feet swung. He stopped them, but his eyes moved from Geigi to Tatiseigi. The boy understood. He’d been there when Tatiseigi’s antiquated systems had nearly gotten them all killed. Cajeiri knew everyone’s opinions.
He
had his opinions on his great-uncle’s feelings about the Taibeni. He knew all about his great-grandmother’s plan and the situation on the coast. And one hoped to God he knew he shouldn’t say a thing at the moment. Not a thing.

Lips went taut with restraint.

In a very long silence.

“I have avoided war all my life,” Tatisiegi said. “This is consistency on my part.” A nod, then. “The Atageini accept the proposal. We will back this program, specifically on your recommendation, Sidi-ji.”

They’d
done
it, Bren thought.

And he asked himself how much of Lord Tatiseigi’s movement in their direction
had to do with the ongoing situation Tabini had warned him about, the situation with Lady Damiri’s other relatives, who were fighting to remove Tatiseigi’s influence from the ruling house in Shejidan and bring in their own to stand near Tabini-aiji.

Not to mention the situation within the Guild—the recent situation, and the prior situation, and the fact they were not likely to have eliminated every vestige of the shadow Guild. If there was a place the shadow Guild was
supposed
to have been eliminated—it was from the house of the Kadigidi, Murini’s clan, Lord Tatisiegi’s neighbor to the east. Tatiseigi had forever the Taibeni on one side and the Kadagidi on the other, and he had the most uncertain security on the continent.

So now Tatiseigi found a way to accept Ilisidi’s offer, at one stroke getting past the Kadagidi.

He found a way to accept a gift porcelain and had the paidhi-aiji advancing him as an expert in the collector trade.

He even found a way to agree with Lord Geigi, however indirectly, and patch up a quarrel that had ceased to be of any social or political benefit.

Damned right, Tatiseigi was aware of a danger to him and to his clan.

There was an interesting letter among Baiji’s little stash of blackmail material, one half line of which suggested the
Kadagidi
would favor Baiji’s proposed alliance with the Dojisigin Marid.