Intruder

  “Young gentleman?” he heard from outside. “What are you doing in there?”

  There was silence. He finished moving the table, sweat stinging in the scratches on his neck.

  Then came his mother’s voice: “You are to open this door this instant, Cajeiri! I shall not put up with this sort of behavior! You are being disrespectful and disobedient!”

  Boji shrieked. Cajeiri flinched and shouted back, “Go away!” and saw that, should the tall adults find a key and open the door, he could duck under the table and maybe get out the door past their feet, and maybe get out the front door of the apartment if he was fast enough and lucky.

  But that would leave his bodyguard in trouble—and leave Boji to them, and he no longer believed Boji was safe or that they would not kill him. He had no idea what to do. He had no advice. And he was more and more scared.

  “Young gentleman!” one of the bodyguards shouted. “Obey your mother!”

  “Not until my father comes!” he said. “Go away! Call my father or call my great-grandmother!”

  “Young gentleman,” his mother said, “you are disrespectful!”

  “I am careful,” he said, finding his voice shaking a little. “Guild has tried to kill us, when we were out on the coast. So tell them go away. I will open the door and talk to you when my father is here.”

  “Your father is in an important meeting right now! You are not permitted to be by yourself in your suite, which is one of the agreements under which you have it at all! And you are not permitted to have that filthy animal tearing up the furniture!”

  “He is safe in his cage again, honored Mother, being quiet and respectful. If someone had not frightened him and then not shut the door when I told her to, he never would have gotten out into the halls! So it is not his fault, and it is not mine! I have had Boji for a long time, and he has bothered no one!”

  “Long time! We have only scarcely gotten into this apartment! Is this something you brought back from the coast? Is it the paidhi’s doing?”

  “It is not, honored Mother! I have had him since a few days ago. You let me have the cage. It is a parid’ja cage. So I got a parid’ja! It is perfectly reasonable, and he is doing no harm!”

  “No harm! You have destroyed your sister’s nursery!” Sister? No one had told him it was a sister. It changed all the numbers. Everything. His mother cried, “The whole room will have to be repainted, and I cannot be exposed to the paint! All the lace of the curtains and crib is ruined, the work of hundreds of hours of someone’s labor! This was badly done, son of mine! It was underhanded, it was sneakery, at which you are uncommonly skilled, and I will no longer tolerate it! One hardly knows how your great-grandmother has tolerated such behavior, but certainly you have not learned the social graces in her care! You have not learned considerate behavior toward your mother! You have not learned proper behavior in a city apartment!”

  “We are perfectly respectful, honored Mother! Your servant did this!”

  “You listen to me! You are not in the wilds of Najida! You are not in the company of fishermen, farmers, and hunters who come tracking indoors with muddy boots! And you are not living in a stable, whatever your great-grandmother may have allowed! A son of mine will not bed down with filthy animals! That creature does not belong in the city!”

  She had spoken ill of Great-grandmother, and of nand’ Bren. If he had been in the least disposed to open the door, that would have changed his mind. He had never suspected such bad opinions existed in his mother. He had no idea what to do, now, or how he was ever going to stay in this apartment and live with someone who was so rude about the people he most respected, and he had never been so angry with his parents in his entire life. He found himself pacing in a circle, he was so mad. It was not fair, and there was nothing he could do about it, because he was a child, and his father wanted him to be here. And he no longer wanted to be. Ever.

  “Cajeiri?” his mother called out.

  He could go off into his bedroom and ignore her, but he was afraid she would order her bodyguard to break down the door unless he went on talking to her.

  And if she broke down the door, there was nothing he could do, short of some action he feared would make his father take his mother’s side, because whatever his father did, there was politics in it.

  His father had married his mother because of politics.

  His father had gone on living with his mother because of politics.

  He had brought her back with him from exile because of politics.

  And—he had forgotten it in the confusion—his grandfather was coming to visit tonight because of politics. And Grandfather could show up at any moment.

  There was nothing he could do.

  Negotiation, mani had said to him, maintains a state of affairs in which no one is shooting.

  It is also an excellent way to play for time.

  He went back to the door. “Mother?” he said in a moderate tone.

  “Open the door, son of mine.”

  “You have frightened Boji, honored Mother. He was doing nothing wrong when he was frightened out the door. Everyone chased him. That scared him worse.”

  “And I tell you that animals should not be in a city apartment.”

  “He is perfectly clean. He is well mannered. And I am very sorry he bit anyone, but he was scared.”

  “I will not have that filthy animal in this apartment!”

  “And I will!” he shouted back, but that was not wise. He was so mad, he thought: I am my father’s heir, and you are not. And that was the truth. It was truth enough to stiffen his back.

  But if he said that, things could go very badly very fast. He said instead, quietly, negotiating: “One respects one’s mother, but it is also needful to respect one’s father, and I have gotten both permission and instruction from him regarding Boji. If a servant had not violated orders, he would never gotten loose. Now he is back in his cage and doing no harm. Please accept my apologies, honored Mother, for what was done, but it was done. It will not be done again.”

  There was silence from outside, a very long moment of silence.

  Then: “We shall have a word with your father. You were wrong to have sent to him.”

  “I believe I was not, honored Mother.”

  “You are being unreasonable.”

  “I believe I am not unreasonable, honored Mother.”

  “Your grandfather is arriving this evening. I had intended to show him the nursery. I am quite, quite upset about this, son of mine.”

  “One is very, very sorry about the nursery, honored Mother. And one promises it will not happen again.”

  “We shall be sure it will not happen again,” his mother said, and then she went away. He heard the footsteps retreating, and his bodyguard was still out there, or might be.

  “Jegari?” he asked. “Antaro?”

  “I am here,” Jegari said. “Antaro is here. Lucasi and Veijico are down the hall in the security corridor.”

  “Is it safe for me to open the door right now?”

  “Yes,” Jegari said, and with several efforts he hauled the table out of the way, unlatched the door and let Jegari and Antaro in.

  They both looked worried, as well they might.

  Jegari said: “That was not a good situation, nandi.”

  “Not ‘nandi!’” he said, vexed. He so envied nand’ Bren right now, the way he managed his bodyguard, the good feeling there always was in that household. It had been very much lacking in his father’s house. He was sure of that now. He had thought it was that they had all been crammed up together in Great-grandmother’s apartment. But now he knew that that feeling had been there for as long as he had been home. “Especially now, nadiin-ji! I shall be called Jeri today, if you please. I wish to be called Jeri.”

  “Jeri-ji,” Jegari amended himself, and after a deep breath: “Lucasi and Veijico did report to your father’s security staff, and one of them has left; the other is maintaining silence, and his only instruction is to wai
t. Your mother’s guard is with her. Your mother’s bodyguard has ordered us to stand down or be arrested and reported to Guild; Lucasi and Veijico have refused on grounds of security, and they recommend to us to take orders only from you until there is some other order. We are trainees. We two are safe from Guild action. But they are not.”

  “And,” Antaro said, “they recommend that should there be violence offered by your mother’s bodyguard, we resist and make an extreme issue of it. They are not armed. But they will resist. Extremely.”

  “One is very grateful,” he muttered. “It is brave. One is very glad you are not hurt.”

  “Your mother’s guard is more than upset with us,” Antaro said. “Your honored mother is not at all in a good mood, and they feel it personally.”

  “Nadiin-ji, this is serious, and one is worried. Where is my father? Do you know? Why will he not come here?”

  “He is downstairs. He is in a meeting.”

  “Are you sure of it?”

  Antaro said, “Your father’s guard is talking to him. The senior aishid is with him.”

  He let go a breath then. He wanted that to be so.

  “And mani and nand’ Bren are all right?” he asked.

  “They are all right. Lord Machigi is arriving this evening to sign the agreement with your great-grandmother, and the whole Bujavid is under special rules right now. Your father and his aishid are in a meeting with Lord Tatiseigi, going over the agreement your great-grandmother is offering to Lord Machigi.”

  “He is going to be so mad at me.”

  “You told the servant to shut the door, nandi,” Jegari said.

  “I did,” he said. “I did tell her. Why was she here? Why was she here in the first place?”

  “We have no idea, nandi. Jeri-ji.”

  “Do you know when my grandfather is coming?”

  “Kitchen is preparing a big dinner,” Antaro said. “Your mother ordered it.”

  “One suspects,” Jegari said, “your esteemed grandfather may have decided to come visit because of Lord Machigi. But he is not invited to the signing. Veijico found that out. Only invited people can get in. So he is definitely supposed to be here all evening.”

  “So my grandfather is a—” He was not sure he had a word for his grandfather. Coming here to throw salt in the pot, was what Great-grandmother would say he was doing, meaning trying to take over without consulting the other cooks in the kitchen. Or in this case, coming to visit to get right in the middle of things without an invitation.

  “My grandfather is not here to help,” he said. “He always shows up when things are going on. But he is not an ally of my great-grandmother.”

  “The young lord of Dur is coming in,” Antaro said. “If he is not already here. So is the new lord of the Maschi. All sorts of people who are allies of your great-grandmother are coming.”

  “Lord Tatiseigi is a close ally of my great-grandmother. But he does not approve of the Marid. And he is downstairs with my father.”

  “One has no idea,” Antaro said. “He is head of the conservatives.”

  “Except my grandfather. My grandfather is a conservative. But one does not have him and Uncle in the same room. Do you think Grandfather coming here might be because of that meeting my father is having with Uncle?”

  There was a moment’s silence. “It could be,” Antaro said. “It actually could be. Your great-uncle has an invitation. Your grandfather, nandi, does not.”

  “Grandfather will not be happy at that,” he said. “And my mother—” Mother was all upset with the baby coming. Everything was the baby. And Grandfather was supposedly all excited about the new baby, and calling Mother a lot. And ordinarily Mother had no patience with Grandfather. But now she was defending him and anxious to show him the new nursery and invite him to dinner…

  And Uncle Tatiseigi was in residence again and making up to Great-grandmother, and making peace with Lord Geigi, and both of them sitting drinking brandy with Great-grandmother and nand’ Bren, and all interested in Lord Machigi coming in, and this new agreement that was supposed to stop wars with the Marid…

  So Grandfather was coming for supper, and Grandfather had no invitation to the big event this evening.

  He wished he could ask Great-grandmother what his grandfather was up to. Or why Mother was being nicer to him than to Uncle. It had a very upsetting feeling.

  And maybe it was not all about Boji.

  And now Mother was mad—and upset. The pretty yellow and white nursery was destroyed—though all he had been able to see was one curtain a little askew and an unfortunate accident on the wall, and he did not think Mother really had to repaint the whole nursery or throw out all the lace curtains and all.

  But Mother was upset: that was what he had heard in her voice. She was very, very unhappy, and he was not that sure now that it was all about Boji at all.

  And his mother was sounding more and more like Grandfather. That upset him. Mother was not behaving well at all lately. Not since the baby. Not since—well, Mother had not been wholly nice to him since he had gotten back from space.

  And there was nobody more grownup to make grownups behave.

  But—there were people. There were people who were downright scary and other grownups were scared of them for very good reasons.

  He had an idea. He had a very good idea. It was scary. But in his opinion, certain people, particularly his grandfather, deserved it.

  He went back into the hall, to his desk, sat down, and laid out a sheet of formal note paper, shaking the lace of his cuff out of the way as he took pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote.

  Esteemed Great-uncle Tatiseigi, Lord of the Atageini and Tirnamardi, I believe that my grandfather, the Lord of the Ajuri, is on his way to Shejidan.

  I do not think he meant to come this soon. I think he knows Lord Machigi is on his way here, and I think he is very much against Great-grandmother in everything. Mother has just complained of Great-grandmother very unfairly. She says Great-grandmother has been a bad influence on me. Grandfather is certainly going to take her side. Please come visit and rescue me.

  He thought honesty was probably a good thing, because his mother was going to blame him for everything.

  Honored Great-uncle, my mother is particularly angry because of a parid’ja in an antique cage, who escaped and damaged the nursery. My father said I might have him. My mother calls him a filthy beast and she says keeping animals is Great-grandmother’s idea, when I know you also have very fine mechieti, like Great-grandmother, so one knows you understand my situation. Please, esteemed Great-uncle, I do not want to ask Great-grandmother to come rescue me, because if my mother said such things to her, one does not know what might happen. But, Great-uncle, you are very brave and very powerful. You have connections with my mother, and she respects you. I would be very grateful if you would come to the apartment and ask me to stay with you for a few days. You are very respectable with everyone and everybody will listen to you. Please help me and take my side, and I shall never forget it. One knows you are very busy tonight, but all you need to do is come here and send me to your apartment, and I shall bring the parid’ja and stay there and be no trouble.

  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-r
oom, 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.

  17

  It 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.