Protector: Foreigner #14 (31 page)

His heart beat hard. He knew these people. He had passed them in the hall. He had slept with them outside his door.

“Does my father know?”

“Yes,” mani said.

He never expected to be told the whole truth—he never was—but it seemed likely he was hearing it now.

The air in the room seemed heavy. His heart was beating unbearably.

“Understand this, Great-grandson. This man, this Ajuri, is the stone on the bottom of the stream. He is a constant, and events flow around him. You do not see what makes the turbulence, but once you study the patterns, you can begin to see that there is a certain rock that makes it flow that way. That is how we have detected him. His agents, we suspect, have deliberately kept certain quarrels going—your great-uncle and I have discussed that matter.”

Great-uncle cleared his throat. “We have completely revised our security.”

“The alarm,” he said. “Did you catch anyone, Great-uncle?”

“Not yet,” mani said. “But we are looking. Quietly. Meanwhile I rely on you to stay indoors, devise clever entertainments for your guests, and think. Think about your safety, do
not
be in a window once it gets dark, and take care your guests do not. You are in
less
danger than you would be anywhere else in the world, but
only
if you obey instructions and do not take chances.”

“Boji got away out the window,” he said. “I am very sorry, mani. We had no idea there was any problem and I wanted to find him. We came right back.”

“Ha.” Mani seemed even amused. “Your little Boji had doors opened, people running out to the stable—possibly it startled someone into a mistake. Perhaps we must thank Boji. We shall keep him in mind, if we have anyone out searching. We shall catch him for you if we can.”

“He likes eggs, mani.”

“I am sure he does. Go back to your guests, Great-grandson. Keep them contained. And do
not
venture out to catch Boji tonight. We are on a completely different set of priorities than we have admitted to the world. This is no time for a mistake. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mani,” he managed to say.

He got up. He made his bows. He left with a racing heart and an upset stomach, thinking:
So Mother did not do it.

But what did my grandfather have to do with the Shadow Guild?

•   •   •

There was a lengthy pause after the young gentleman had left. Bren waited, sensing it was not a general dismissal.

“In our opinion,” Ilisidi said, “we doubt Lord Komaji suffered a moral change that brought him to his end. It seems likely that he
wa
s attempting to escape his situation. Considering the man, we suspect his strange behavior in the Bujavid was complete panic. He was carrying far too much knowledge. My grandson and his wife—and, more importantly, her bodyguards—were not in the apartment at the time he attempted to get in. I think he wanted to talk to Cajeiri, to enlist
him
to reach my grandson, with the hope of meeting my grandson with Cajeiri to stand in front of him—as he exposed Damiri-daja’s staff and everything else he knew. He was in a truly desperate situation—he had excellent reason not to trust his own bodyguards. Being rebuffed at the door—he slipped into total, unreasoning panic. He blamed us for creating it. He sought a public place as the place least likely his own bodyguards would choose to kill him—and quite, quite broke down. The poor man had no knowledge how to survive without a staff—he probably had no idea how to walk out the door, down the hill, and buy a train ticket.”

“Who carries money?” Tatiseigi asked. It was true. Lords didn’t. Staff did.

Ilisidi gave a short, ironic laugh. “I have found,” she said, “that a piece of jewelry serves.” The smile vanished. “Damiri-daja had no wish to see him again. Nor to commit herself to Ajuri.”

“She
has
an uncle.”

“That she does, Tati-ji.”

“You do not think, aiji-ma,” Tatiseigi said, “that she in any wise has contact with this old man, this Shishoji.”

“No,” Ilisidi said, and moved her cane to lean on it, as she would when she had something more to say, of a serious nature. “She said herself that she had refused to visit Ajuri, that they would have been happy to have her daughter born there, and she would not consider it. That did not please Komaji in the least. She pleaded her condition. And the distance. She did not want to fly. Excuses. But, Tati-ji, she carries very unhappy memories—no few unhappy memories. She is sensitive on the matter. Born here. Sent there. Back here. A long sequence of going there and here, all with the single question—whether she should ever have been born.”

“One never implied such a thing!” Tatiseigi said.

“She heard it somewhere: ‘The child of an unlucky alliance.’ Only she knows what remark, from whatever source, instilled that impression in her. I had it straight from her. This I have from my grandson: her father showing up in my grandson’s return—his having the lordship of Ajuri and courting her with such devotion—waked man’chi in her that quite upset her, and worried her. And with that man’chi still unsettled, came the incident that sent her father from court and removed her staff. She was quite, quite shaken. It took
courage
for her to wear the Atageini colors that evening, Tati-ji. Great courage. But it was her choice. I told her that evening that I appreciated the situation she was in. That I
knew
it took courage. That I understood her hesitation at acknowledging man’chi to either clan. I recalled my marriage as an Easterner, coming to reside in a Ragi household. I told her when she was my age, she might find value in the position of outsider, and mother of the heir—but, I said, that power had to come from staff with good connections, and allies on whom one could call without doubt. She had made one step in that direction on her own. I offered another. I pointed out that she might gain you, Tati-ji, and me, and various others who are her son’s most important allies. That in him is the source of power for
her
one day to stand where I do, doing as I do.
That
is what I said to her. She was not pleased to hear all of it. But her subsequent choices have, indeed, been better choices. She is sitting in my grandson’s residence with Malguri and Taibeni security, and she is still alive. She is much too intelligent to go to Ajuri. One may only imagine how eager this Shishoji would be to have her open Ajuri records to my grandson’s inspection.”

One could only imagine, Bren thought.

“She is,” Tatiseigi said, “a part of
this
household. As is the young gentleman. No one will ever again utter any word to the contrary. Never under this roof!”

“A good resolve,” Ilisidi said, and called for more tea. “We shall think on these things. We shall let Guild solve the problems.” Which had a more ominous ring than usual. “And we shall enjoy the evening, shall we not, Tati-ji?”

“We shall by no means alter plans within this house,” Tatiseigi said. “Perhaps we shall find this new-fangled
thing
on my roof has simply had a malfunction. We shall enjoy our dinner, though I fear we have had to cancel the choir. And if the Guild insists this fancy equipment
cannot
fail, well, we cannot ride. We shall entertain the children with a tour of the premises tomorrow. I shall show them my collections.”

The collections were famous—though Bren had never seen them. And one could not imagine the old lord entertaining a flock of children all day with case after case of tea services.

“The other collections, Tati-ji,” Ilisidi said. “The taxidermy should interest strangers to the world. They will not have seen those creatures.”

Taxidermy.
He
was curious himself, what might be there. Great houses threw nothing away.

Tatiseigi nodded, and gave a rare little laugh. “We should send them in by lamplight. That is how I remember them, from my youth. Fangs and claws appearing out of the darkness. We promise it for tomorrow, since the basement knows neither day nor night, rain nor sun. We would wish them to sleep tonight.” He accepted a teacup, after which only small conversation was mannerly. “And just as well we shall not be riding tomorrow. Likeliest we shall all be limping about. I know I shall.”

“It is ridiculous that we should ache,” Ilisidi said. “We have gotten soft, Tati-ji. And we resent every ache. Paidhi-ji, be glad of your youth, and know what you have ahead.”

“One regrets to say, aiji-ma, that one does feel it.”

Ilisidi’s expression lightened. She liked to be flattered, if the flattery was subtle. So did Tatiseigi.

Tea continued, and the house remained quiet, except the servants hurrying about their preparations—and except, one was certain, the unheard transactions of the Guild, those in communication with the Taibeni units, and those in communication with others about the grounds, where it was not tea service and light conversation. The best the lords involved could do in that matter was to stay out of the way. The answer to the alarm was not being obvious.

“We shall rest before dinner,” Ilisidi said, after a single cup. “Perhaps have a nap.”

With that, their little conference adjourned, and they got up, bowed, and gathered up their separate guards.

Banichi and Jago joined them outside.

“The Taibeni have found sign, but they dare not bring the mecheiti in close to Tatiseigi’s herd,” Banichi said quietly. “One of Tatiseigi’s grooms is bringing the herd-leader over to see what he picks up and where it came from. There is however, a very faint trace of old sign, from before the rain. The direction of approach was from the Kadagidi perimeter.”

“One is not that surprised. Is there any guess how old?”

“Difficult,” Jago said. “They think possibly
before
the new equipment went in. Four days ago.”

“One of the Taibeni,” Banichi said, “has made a search of the stables, to see if he could locate the young gentleman’s parid’ja, or anything else, but if it is there, it is hiding.”

“A good thought, at least,” Bren said, and as they started up the stairs: “We are given leave to brief Jase on our situation, not the details inside the Guild.”

That, by the fact of language, was his to do.

“He is back in his quarters,” Tano said, and added: “And Cajeiri and his guests are sitting in theirs and talking. We have been given a lower level of alert. That could change at any moment.”

And that . . . was the least surprising news of the entire day.

•   •   •

“Understand,” he said to Jase, “that we are in a relatively safe position. There’s no danger to this house at the moment, and we are very sure of the people around us. What has changed today is a security alert, and traces of a Kadagidi intrusion here some days ago. And the fact that Cajeiri’s grandfather apparently reached the end of a relative’s patience—not a family quarrel. Guild politics; and connected to this lot that arranged the coup, and that we’ve been trying to track down for the last year. Apparently Cajeiri’s grandfather talked too much about another member of that clan. The short version of it all is—there’s this old man in the Guild who’s sat there for forty years, Ajuri clan. He’s used a minor post to stack the deck in various clans, putting less able Guild into certain positions, shunting some to other duties—weakening his enemies, strengthening his allies, and possibly inserting spies here and there. We believe that’s how the coup was organized, and how the trouble has kept coming back. We’ve got our eye on him. We’re going to take care of him. We
don’t
want to do it until the boy’s had his party and the guests are home safe. Politics, again. We can’t let this fellow dictate what we dare and daren’t do. More immediate to the alarm situation, and what has us just a little worried, we’ve also had our eye on one other man, who’s running security over to the east, in Kadagidi clan’s manor house. And I swear to you, we hadn’t planned to have an assassination in Ajuri clan happen while we had the kids here.”

“You say we’re safe here.”

What did he say? That Cenedi was, hand over fist, setting up for conflict within the Guild, that the dowager had ignored Assignments and Guild procedure, and fortified both Tabini-aiji and Cajeiri—separately—
preparing
for enemy attack?

If the old man in Assignments didn’t get a clue that it was check and damned near mate, he wasn’t as smart as they thought he was.

“We think we’re safe because we’ve taken measures to
be
safe, but if all hell breaks loose, we think it’s still going to be reasonably quiet hell this time, and we
think
we can take care of it.”

Jase thought about that a moment, then said, “Well, we told the parents that assassination goes on down here, that it’s specific, and it doesn’t take out bystanders. And we didn’t dwell on the point that, when it happens, the whole political picture can shift.”

“Exactly. Understand that aiming at the kids would be way outside civilized rules. Shooting Cajeiri—maybe. Me or our host, again—permissible. But don’t rely on civilized rules with this enemy. Public opinion hasn’t stopped them. They
want
the public terrified.”

Jase nodded. “Understood.”

“One opinion they do fear—is Lord Geigi. They now know they’d be small burned spots if Geigi lands one of his machines in their district. That word has gotten around, and nobody wants another of those machines to wake up.
Everything
in their eyes is politics—and they think the one he did turn on was purely a demonstration of what he can do.”

“Not far wrong on that score,” Jase said. “I have the picture.”

“These are a type you and I know. From your first visit. If you want my opinion—it’s the same lot. Deep connections. But we’re getting close to the heart of their operation. I am, frankly, very glad you’re here.”

“What are friends for? I’ll explain the situation to the kids, without scaring them. They haven’t caught that noisy little creature, have they?”

“They haven’t. They probably won’t. They’re arboreal. They go for the deep woods. And there’s a small woods between us and the Kadagidi, and a very big one, well, you saw the area around the train station. Taiben, forest from one end to the other, very friendly territory for that little creature. I’m afraid he’s lost his pet.”