Protector

  “Well,” Bren began, but just then came a knock at the door, and it opened. That, he was sure, would be Ilisidi herself, or at very least, Cenedi.

  Rescue.

  “I am sure we will take care of Boji for you,” Bren said to his young guest. “I have ordered sufficient eggs.”

  “He likes them raw, nandi.”

  “One is not surprised to hear it.”

  “You just give them to him. But sometimes we boil one. For a joke. He will eat it. But it confuses him.”

  “We shall never have eggs left over from breakfast, then.” He rose, thinking he would have to meet Ilisidi, and offer to keep Boji.

  The door opened. Jeladi ducked in, shut the door at his back and bowed. “Nandi. Lord Tatiseigi is in the foyer, nandi.”

  He tried not to register utter dismay. One thing was certain: he could not sit in lordly splendor in his sitting room and ask Tatiseigi be brought in like some visiting client. He bowed to his young guest, and went to the door as Jeladi opened it.

  Indeed, Lord Tatiseigi, with his full bodyguard, stood in the foyer, awaiting the courtesy of his appearance.

  “Nandi,” Bren said, “you are very welcome here. Do accept the hospitality of the sitting room. The aiji-dowager or her bodyguard will be here at any moment to pick up the young gentleman. I took your arrival for hers. Would you care for tea?”

  “Things are running in a very slipshod way, nandi. This spaceship is proceeding ahead of plans and we hear only by our bodyguard’s advisement that the young gentleman has been turned out and sent here—with no warning, nandi, with no notice at all. We hope that there is some planning involved in this!”

  He was not about to explain Geigi’s meddling with the shuttle launch schedule. Tatiseigi liked all events well-planned, on firm schedules. He simply said, “Once the young gentleman knew the shuttle was coming, he was very anxious to be underway, nandi, and you and the dowager have been so very involved in the committee meeting . . .”

  “Which is over,” Tatiseigi said somewhat more mildly.

  “One heard it had gone well, with all gratitude to your efforts, indeed. I listened from the tea room, discreetly. I was available to get the message, and I was able to be here to meet the young gentleman. And to take custody of the young gentleman’s parid’ja, which needs to be housed, temporarily.” He was absolute sure Tatiseigi would not want that duty.

  “Uncle,” Cajeiri said from the doorway.

  “My boy,” Tatiseigi said. “We trust you have not been a burden to the paidhi.”

  “No, Great-uncle! Nand’ Bren has been explaining the shuttle schedule. And he says we might go to Najida!”

  “I said,” Bren said quietly and quickly—a visit to Najida surely not being Tatiseigi’s fondest wish—“that all such questions would be the dowager’s to decide.”

  “Well!” Tatiseigi said. “How would you like to go to Tirnamardi instead, young gentleman, and ride mecheiti?”

  Tatiseigi’s estate? With human guests? Three—possibly four—very young human guests?

  He thought of his conversation with Jago, in the servants’ bath.

  And that with Geigi, in his office.

  But Cajeiri didn’t waste a second.

  “To Tirnamardi, Great-uncle?”

  “We have made arrangements with your great-grandmother, considering this madness with the shuttle schedule and the inconvenience of having these guests in residence in the Bujavid. We have ample room.”

  And Kadagidi clan next door. And a feud with Ajuri, not that far to the north.

  “Yes!” the young rascal cried. “Oh, yes!”

  “Well, well,” Tatiseigi said. “You shall, then!” He turned a glance toward Bren. “These young people do not speak Ragi, do they?”

  “It is not likely they do, beyond a few words, nandi.”

  “Well, then, nand’ paidhi, so the aiji-dowager said, and you will surely attend,” Tatiseigi said. And added, whimsically, “I do trust your aishid will not blow up another of my bedrooms!”

  “Assuredly not, nandi!”

  Oh, the man was in a good mood. But he could not be taking possession of Cajeiri and taking him off to his apartment, however short the walk—he had promised Tabini to take the boy into his keeping, and that was what was authorized. Tano and Algini had an unobstructed view, where they were standing, and he passed an emergency hand-signal that non-Guild were not supposed to use.

  “The aiji-dowager is on her way, nandi,” Tano said immediately.

  “Indeed,” Bren said. “Lord Tatiseigi, will you like a pot of tea, and to wait for the dowager?”

  “We have had tea enough at the legislative reception,” Tatiseigi said, not budging, “but so, well, we shall wait. Will you need to send for riding clothes, nephew?”

  “No, Great-uncle. I have everything with me.”

  “Who has seen to your wardrobe, young man? Has your father’s staff?”

  “I have servants, now, Great-uncle! I have my own staff.”

  “With you?”

  “Indeed, Great-uncle, I have two servants and my bodyguard.”

  “Well, well,” Tatiseigi said. “Servants, indeed! Have you a warm coat? Formal clothing as well?”

  “One had thought we might go to Najida, Great-uncle, or Malguri, so I have everything in my baggage.”

  “Exemplary foresight,” Tatiseigi said. “Exemplary! Well. Well.” They were standing with enough Guild in attendance for a small war, with Tatiseigi’s bodyguards outside and Cajeiri’s four and Banichi and Jago now in the foyer, and Tatiseigi in the doorway itself so that Narani had not been able to close it.

  But they were about to acquire a fourth set of bodyguards. Bren heard the sounds of another approach to the door, men’s footsteps, and the light tap of Ilisidi’s cane on the stone flooring of the hall.

  He was not the only one hearing it. “Mani is coming,” Cajeiri said, and indeed, Tatiseigi’s bodyguard moved out of the way in advance of that oncoming presence.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. At her own pace, Ilisidi appeared in the doorway.

  “Well,” she said, resting hands on her cane. “Well, Great-grandson. Tati-ji. Nand’ paidhi. Are we holding a meeting in the hallway?”

  “Mani, Great-uncle has said we shall go to Tirnamardi!”

  “That we shall,” she said, both hands on her cane, with Cenedi and her guard behind her. “We shall go to the spaceport, gather up your young guests, and take them to enjoy a healthful sojourn in the country. Nand’ paidhi, we trust you can clear your schedule to go with us.”

  Her idea. Or Cenedi’s. He recalled, again, that conversation in the bath. The business about positioning forces.

  “I am in process of doing that right now, aiji-ma.”

  “Well, well, we shall have a day or two to see the bill passed. You are packed, nand’ paidhi?”

  “I shall be, aiji-ma.”

  “Tati-ji?”

  “My staff will assure it,” Tatiseigi said.

  “Well, we all three will be busy. Lord Tatiseigi and I will speak for the bill in the tashrid tomorrow. We expect the paidhi-aiji will have a statement to read into the record.”

  “I have it ready, aiji-ma.”

  “Dur will present it. Tati-ji, we expect you at dinner this evening. We shall discuss our strategy over brandy. We would expect that the paidhi-aiji’s staff has prepared a dinner here, and that there might be sufficient for my grandson.”

  That was to say, stay home. Take care of the boy and his staff. Keep him contained.

  They were about to do something entirely outrageous and take the boy and his guests to a venue they knew had security problems, and the person who most fiercely protected the boy was driving this insane venture, for reasons she was not going to explain right now. He understood that part clearly. And that yes was all he could say.
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  “Easily, aiji-ma. And we shall see to the parid’ja.” Whatever her plans, the dowager needed to know that the creature had become part of the arrangement.

  “The parid’ja,” Ilisidi echoed him in a little dismay. And to her great-grandson: “Was this arranged?”

  Cajeiri put on a worried face. “My servants are with me, mani, and there would be no one in my father’s apartment to take care of him.”

  Ilisidi drew a deep breath. “Well.” And cast a questioning look at Bren.

  “Aiji-ma, one is certain we shall manage. Whether he will go with us . . .”

  “May he, mani?” Cajeiri asked. “He has his cage, Great-grandmother! It is a very secure cage! It has rollers!”

  Tatiseigi had no expression at all for the moment. Tatiseigi’s desire to move the young gentleman into his vicinity had been strong enough even to accommodate young humans, at least conceptually—perhaps imagining they, like the paidhi-aiji, had acquired atevi virtues and could eat arsenic with abandon.

  Boji, however, was surely another matter.

  “My servants, mani, they know how to take care of him, so he is no trouble. He is very clean, Great-uncle!”

  Tatiseigi’s mouth opened. His expressionlessness showed a struggle to warm to the idea. A heartbeat later he said, “One can agree, Sidi-ji, if you wish,” and he was committed to it.

  Bren almost said, in the next breath, One is certain my staff could manage . . . in the thought that the steadiness of Tatiseigi’s nerves was going to be tested far enough, with Cajeiri’s guests.

  But the dowager had already nodded. Cajeiri had heard the one and seen the other. And that was that.

  • • •

  As many teacakes as he could eat, before a very good dinner, with nand’ Bren’s whole aishid and his own all at the table, and another dessert after dinner—that was last night; and Cajeiri enjoyed a really comfortable guest room with room for everybody in their own little cubicles.

  And in the morning he could sleep late, with no tutor, no need to get up early, nand’ Bren had said, and it was such a quiet household—

  Except for Boji, who wanted his egg. Boji started to make a fuss, out in the sitting area.

  But Eisi had an egg all ready, since last night: he was always good about that. And Cajeiri just pulled the covers over his head, snuggled into abundant pillows, and fell back to sleep on thoughts that the shuttle with his associates aboard was flying through space, getting harder and harder to turn back. Pretty soon not even his father would be able to stop it, because it would be committing itself to the atmosphere.

  When he did wake, very late, at one of Boji’s little shrieks, he scrambled out of bed in a sudden fear that maybe things were not going so well, and he had been out of touch for hours and hours.

  He found all his aishid on the other side of the partition, playing cards in the sitting area, and his servants trying to hush Boji with another egg.

  “Jeri-ji,” Jegari said.

  “Is there any news yet?”

  “Regarding the shuttle, none that we know. But nand’ Bren’s staff is packing, so everything seems on schedule. He is in his office, and Banichi-nadi says your great-grandmother and Lord Tatiseigi are in the legislative session, so everything there is what they planned.”

  He slowly let go a breath, relieved.

  “Understand,” Lucasi said, “nandi, nand’ Bren’s aishid has given us some cautions, that we should bring all our gear, and that there will be very high security everywhere.”

  “One is not surprised,” he said. His whole life was like that.

  “And you will have to watch your guests, and report them to us, if there is any question at all. Your guests will not know the rules at all, nandi. And you will have to keep them safe.”

  That was a scary thought. He did not want to think of having to watch everybody as if he were the one to tell on them. Their time in the secret corridors of the ship had been all of them hiding and playing pranks.

  But they were right. They could not do that to his aishid, or to nand’ Bren’s, or to Great-grandmother’s.

  “One hears,” he agreed, less happy about the situation. It was an upside down arrangement. But there were dangers. There were always dangers. He did not entirely know where they would come from, but his own grandfather was a good guess, and there was still some fighting down in the Marid.

  “Will you wish breakfast, Jeri-ji?” Antaro asked. “Cook said that we should advise him when you might wish it.”

  “One has to dress first,” he said. He was glad to change the topic. “But yes. Has everyone eaten?”

  “We have not,” Antaro said.

  He had been inconvenient for his own staff. “I need to dress,” he said to his staff in general, “as if my great-grandmother could want to see me. She really might, today.”

  • • •

  Breakfast was extravagant, with eggs in a wonderful sauce, and Cajeiri was already enjoying the excitement of an oncoming birthday, with a good many of the rules tumbled down and overset. He was to have his guests, and Great-grandmother, and nand’ Bren, and his bodyguard; and Boji, and mecheiti . . .

  He was to have his associates from the ship and they were going to be so impressed. . . .

  Even if he had to be careful about the rules.

  They all would be a year older. They would have grown up a little, too. He was a good deal taller, in just a year. And stronger.

  And smarter. He had done things they would never imagine, in their safe life inside the station, particularly: things on the station rarely changed much, and there were no enemies. They screened everybody who got up there, so there was hardly any more secure place anywhere.

  He was still anxious. His mother or his father could still change their minds. But his mother was going to be happier, having a staff again. Unless she got mad at Great-grandmother and everything blew up.

  Something could still go wrong in the legislature or there could be a security alert: there were a lot of people in the world who could cause a security alert.

  But the shuttle was on its way, and once it set up on course, and once it really got moving, then it was harder and harder to change anything.

  Once the shuttle started entering the atmosphere, it would all go very fast, and they would land, and then his visitors were stuck for fourteen days, or even longer. Nobody could send them back until the shuttle was ready to take them.

  He was surprised to be going to Tirnamardi. The last he remembered of it, the front lawn had been a camp, with the hedges broken and a smoky smell over everything—but he was sure it was all nice now. And Great-uncle was going to let them ride. He was sure nobody born on a space station had ever seen anything like a mecheita—and he was going to get to take Boji with him, and they would be amazed by Boji, too. It was going to be wonderful.

  He was surprised by his great-uncle. But Great-uncle had been very easy to please ever since Grandfather had gotten thrown out of the court.

  He completely understood Great-uncle’s feelings in that.

  • • •

  Nand’ Bren was busy all day. And his aishid was gone most all day, carrying messages, doing things nobody talked about. It was all very mysterious.

  Boji was upset at being in a strange room, until he had eaten so many eggs his stomach was round, and then he curled up and slept.

  And there was just nothing to do but play chess with Antaro with everybody else to advise both sides, which made a rowdy sort of chess game.

  He had lunch with nand’ Bren, who told him everything was perfectly fine, and that he was just writing letters and making phone calls all day, because of business he was going to have to leave.

  After lunch, they decided to go through all the bags to make sure they had not forgotten anything they really might need at Tirnamardi, and he thought he might send fo
r his other outdoor coat, but he decided against it, because if he even sent a message next door to his father’s major domo, that could stir up questions of why he needed the coat and get his parents interested in where he was going.

  Things would be busy over there: his mother would be getting new staff, including a hairdresser, and his father would have new people in, all of them from Malguri district, which was not what he had ever expected his father to agree to.

  He did not get a call from mani to come to her apartment this evening. There was no word from Great-uncle, either. The only one who paid attention to him all day was nand’ Bren, having lunch with him, but then nand’ Bren was back in his office doing whatever he had done before. The front door opened and closed with people coming and going, and he just sat in the guest room with his aishid. Time just crawled past, hour after hour, with thoughts that things could still go wrong and they still could have an emergency that stopped everything.

  He did remember a few more ship-speak sentences to teach his aishid, things useful around mecheiti, like, “Get up on the rails.” He thought rails was the word even if they were wooden. And: “Don’t walk behind him.” And: “Don’t walk in front of him.” He could not remember the word for tusks.

  He reviewed things useful in the house, like, “Be very quiet.” And: “Stop.” And: “Bow.”

  His associates had never dealt with mani on the ship. They might be rude, in mani’s way of looking at things. Or Great-uncle’s. He was worried about that.

  But there was nand’ Bren to keep them out of trouble and explain things. He reassured himself of that. And he resolved really, truly, not to suggest anything that could get them in trouble, because even if it was not Najida with the boat docks and all, Great-uncle’s house had mecheiti.

  He really, really expected that mani would take charge of him, since the shuttle had to be getting close to starting down.

  Maybe she would call him to dinner.

  But she did not. He ended up having supper with only his aishid and nand’ Bren, who simply said, “We are still preparing things and sending letters, young gentleman, and while I understand, please do not attempt to discuss business at your great-uncle’s table.”