Intruder (45 page)

He read it once, for good measure.

Uncle Tatiseigi had
always
wanted custody of him, well, except the time he had ruined the driveway. But Uncle Tatiseigi had always been extremely jealous of influences on him, even mani. And Uncle Tatiseigi was not at all on good terms with Grandfather. He was afraid, but he was not going to admit that.
Surely
Great-uncle would come.

He folded the letter, he sealed it very properly—he used a little ring he had, which was not a proper seal, but he had a small waxjack at his desk, and it served.

“Take this,” he said, “one of you. Get to the servants’ passage, get downstairs, and get down to my great-uncle.”

“If he is in the meeting, still,” Jegari said.

“You can give it to his bodyguard.” Everybody would be standing around the door of the meeting-room, including his father’s bodyguard, and they had tried that, and Father was still not here. But Uncle might get a message.

Uncle could at least move his father.
Both
of them might come up here. That would be the best thing—if only they agreed with him.

It was a terrible situation to be in.

And he had not asked for it. More than Boji, he had done no wrong. He really had not done anything wrong. That was the puzzling thing. Always before, if he was in trouble, he had done something really, really wrong.

But right now, things just seemed to be happening that were not all his fault.

I
t was absolutely necessary for the paidhi-aiji, and Lord Geigi, to show up at the event in full court dress. That was first and foremost. They had to appear, they had to give the right impression, and they had to be protected against the very real possibility that some attendee might not be on the up and up
.

That meant bulletproof vests all around and a last-moment fitting. Narani was determined to have a good fit on persons he sent out the paidhi’s door—stylish, entirely unremarkable as what they were, and compatible with court style—and the poor tailor had shown up at the door with his case just about on the hour, every hour since supper. Bren had suffered three fittings, Geigi two—since Geigi’s security had gotten together with Bren’s and agreed that, indeed, bulletproof and pale silk was the latest fashion.

But lords were dressing for dinner, flowers and good wishes were reportedly piling up in the Bujavid security office, and so many people being involved, ment the news of Machigi’s arrival was now getting out.

And if the gossip of tailors and flower arrangers and number-counters hadn’t let the secret out to the building staff by now—its intermediate step on the way to full press coverage—if all of that failed, there was a conservative caucus, and they could always be counted on to blow any secrecy wide open.

Neither the liberal nor the conservative caucus was a meeting politic for the paidhi-aiji to attend. Nor were they apt for the aiji-dowager
’s attendance—by a long shot—though she occasionally did meet with the aristocratic side of the conservative caucus, where it regarded her passion for the environment.

Tatiseigi, however, was reportedly down there—he was in his element. In very fact, Tatiseigi had convoked the meeting and asked Tabini to be there, an attendance nearly unprecedented. One understood the Merchants’ Guild had also been invited to appear, and almost certainly the porcelain trade would come under discussion, if only as a gloss.

The Assassins’ Guild was naturally there—not officially on the speakers’ list—they didn’t come to committee meetings and the like. But they were standing by every aristocratic member in that meeting.

Which was how information was flowing to his staff. So either the Guild leadership approved of that leak going to certain staffs—or his staff was getting it second-hand from the dowager’s or Tabini’s.

There had been the usual conservative viewings-with-alarm for openers. There was plenty of viewing-human-influence-with-suspicion. That was traditional, like the counting of numbers for felicity.

That had, predictibly, occupied the entire front of the meeting. It had not made the paidhi’s cold supper happier. But the execration of human influence was the establishment of bona fides for certain speakers, so it was understandable; the usual speakers were the Old Money of the aishidi’tat, in the main. Ragi clan ruled the aishidi’tat, some said, only because the Old Money could not abide one of their own lording it over the rest.

And then, wonder of wonders—Lord Tatiseigi had taken charge of the meeting and opened his statement with the accurate observation that there was no region of the aishidi’tat
more
conservative than the Marid.

He had further stated that if the conservative caucus wished to find kindred opinions in political debates and in the legislature in the future, they should work to stabilize that region of the
continent, put power in hands with but one neck, as Jago so colorfully quoted Tatiseigi—and insist that everybody listen to the Assassins’ Guild’s new establishment there and operate through them in the old traditional way.

That last suggestion, Jago reported, had occasioned another furor.
Why
had the Assassins’ Guild, that bastion of conservative opinion, recently run amok, one asked, if not the ascendancy of liberal elements within it?

Because, Tatiseigi had retorted shrewdly, his lifelong neighbors, the Padi Valley Kadagidi, who had disowned Murini as a failure and supported Tabini’s return to the aijinate, had been lying: It was all designed to put the clan back into a position of great influence.

The Kadagidi, Tatiseigi had gone on to say, had publicized an enemies’ list that only
began
with the liberals of the legislature. But, Tatiseigi proposed, the real rivals of the Kadagidi were not at all the liberals. They were the other Old Money clans, whose leaders were in jeopardy from Kadagidi aspirations. The Kadagidi sat at the very heart of the aishidi’tat, assisting and backing the renegades of the Guild in districts south of Shejidan. The Kadagidi could not be in favor of the Guild action which had removed the Shadow Guild from the Marid.

And they had not deigned to show up yet in the legislature.

“Clever man,” Bren said, hearing that. “How was it received?”

“With the usual objections from Lord Diogi,” Jago said wryly. Diogi was not one of the brightest lights in the legislature. Nor that influential. Tatiseigi, notoriously
not
on the cutting edge of technological developments, was equally famously no fool and weighed far more in debate than Diogi.

“But no other objections,” he said.

“There is debate on mechanisms,” Jago reported, “to assure that there will be no competition to the detriment of certain regional interests. That these matters be referred to the Merchants and reports received.”

“Understood,” he said, and sat thinking about Lord Tatiseigi, who had made some very unprecedented movement on various questions…mostly on issues definitely to Tatiseigi’s advantage, taken all together. It seemed on the one hand too good to be true—and on the other, the constellation of advantages, ones he personally had labored to collect, precisely to try to head off conservative opposition—were real advantages.

Well, he’d made more of an impact on Lord Tatiseigi than he’d thought. Tatiseigi had quite happily taken the opportunity to fling stones at his neighbor the Kadagidi, via the whole program—and had gotten in a good hit or two. He wasn’t unhappy to hear that, and the Kadagidi were going to regret not being in the meeting. Possibly the Guild as currently constituted had been at work there, too—

—or possibly the Guild members that served the Kadagidi were having problems that Jago did not have clearance to report.

Might some that protected that house have gotten themselves personally involved in the fracas down in the Marid? That would be interesting.

Might there have been a thinning of the ranks, leaving the Kadagidi with less than their usual protection?

Some among the Shadow Guild had fled from Guild vengeance to the south. Naturally those that they knew had run first were the leaders.

And would the Kadagidi be stupid enough—or scared enough—to admit them back into Kadagidi territory? Surely not.

“Is there, Jago-ji,
any
of the Shadow Guild in the Kadagidi district? Is Lord Tatiseigi advisedly taking that position?”

Jago’s gold eyes flicked upward. And down, hiding secrets. “Perhaps. We have personally taken aside all of Lord Tatiseigi’s bodyguard and explained certain things forcefully. He is under heavy protection.”

“One understands,” he said.

Jago went back about her business elsewhere.

And he went to consult with Geigi, who was in the hands of his aishid, being dressed.

“Tatiseigi is speaking in favor of our position,” he said. “We are doing very well, thus far. He has not carried the day, but it seems reasonably likely that he may do so.”

“The porcelain,” Geigi said, fastening the vest, “has incredibly sweetened his mood. Had I known this a decade ago, I swear I would have sent the old reprobate my best!”

“I believe it is the contemplation of gain, Geigi-ji. Gain from transport of grain: he is admirably well-situated for it. Grain headed south and fish to the north. Not to mention the porcelains.”

“Well, well, well,” Geigi said, and turned to accept his coat. “I swear to you, I shall ply him with little gifts. I shall remember it if the weather truly holds fair, from the Padi Valley.”

“He is a very shrewd politician,” Bren said. “If we can enlist him, so much the better for the dowager’s cause.”

There were a dozen things still to do—one of which was to look up and absolutely fix in his head the names of two similarly named bays on the East Coast that he had confused before, and the names of several contacts in that district.

He was doing that when the office door opened, and Banichi came in.

“There is a difficulty, Bren-ji,” Banichi said.

“Difficulty.” Adrenaline came up. Instantly. “What difficulty.”

“The young gentleman,” Banichi said. “He sent to his father earlier to request his father come back to the apartment. Now he has dispatched one of his aishid from the apartment with a message to Lord Tatiseigi.”

“To
Tatiseigi.
” He was immediately confounded and chagrined—puzzled that the boy, if he was distressed at not having his own invitation to the evening event, had not sent to the aiji-dowager and chagrined that the boy had not sent to him, who was right next door. He would have explained to the young gentleman—the
high security involved, the chance of difficulty—and the statement it would make having the aiji’s son present. The omission of an invitation was a political decision, not an accident. “Should I go there, Nichi-ji?”

“The young man has reportedly had a falling-out with his mother,” Banichi said. “That is the matter at issue. And one does not believe it would be a good idea, Bren-ji, either to send us or to go yourself.” Banichi looked worried. So, he was sure, did he. They had both heard Tabini’s account of difficulties.

And an issue had to arise today. This evening. “Perhaps,” he said, “we should notify Jaidiri.” That was the chief of Tabini’s bodyguard.

“Jaidiri knows, now, from Tatiseigi’s bodyguard,” Banichi said.

“Damn. One hardly knows what to do.”

“There is nothing that suggests itself,” Banichi said. “Damiri-daja’s father is in the city.”

“Twice damn,” Bren said, and there went his concentration on details. Damn and damn. “Keep an eye on that situation. Keep me posted.”

“Yes,” Banichi said.

He went to have a concentrated look at his maps, to fix the names in his head. He tried not to think what might be going on next door, and he told himself an eight-year-old within a very little of fortunate nine had been desperate, appealing to his great-uncle and not his great-grandmother…
He
was in possession of information internal to the family and dared not send down to Ilisidi’s apartment. She would march in, already at a pitch of nerves from the Machigi affair, and if there was war to be had on Cajeiri’s account, she would declare it.

And the fight that would create in the chief household—one didn’t want to contemplate. The boy was far from stupid. He had not sent to her.

Please God he had not sent to Ilisidi.

Banichi came back to his office, this time with Jago, in some urgency. “Tabini-aiji
himself has left the meeting, stating for the membership that he has received an urgent message. Lord Tatiseigi’s guard, on the advisement of Tabini-aiji’s bodyguard, has held back the message from the young gentleman and has not yet shown it to Lord Tatiseigi.”

Bren drew a deep breath. “We should probably notify Cenedi, if he has not been told, but one must emphasize he should keep the news from the dowager. Is the caucus continuing?”

“There was some concern,” Jago said, “in the sudden departure of Tabini-aiji. There was speculation of some incident involving Lord Machigi. Lord Tatiseigi has told them it is a Bujavid security concern and does not involve Lord Machigi.”

“Excellent.” That sort of issue would be rated severe, but the sort of thing that, once attended at high levels, would cease to be a threat. And it was the sort of disturbance that routinely happened around important events. “Brilliant. Lord Tatiseigi deserves credit for that one.”

“Lord Tatiseigi’s bodyguard will certainly meet his displeasure,” Banichi said, “once they admit the content of that message.”

One of Cajeiri’s pranks gone awry, maybe. Maybe an attempt to leave the apartment and go to the signing.

Or maybe not.

With all else that was going on in the world…it was not safe.

Not with the rejection of a bouquet in the Taisigi mission foyer, and not with the arrival of the Taisigi lord, and not with Damiri-daja’s grandfather inbound and her great-uncle, in that meeting downstairs, just having shifted the conservative balance over to a side not profitable for that gentleman.

There were just too damned many pieces in motion for a good-hearted boy to have any room for mistakes.