There was a lengthy silence after that, and Veijico did not look him in the eyes. She had clasped her hands behind her, and her head stayed a little bowed.
“Is your man’chi to my father?” he asked.
A lengthy silence, and she never looked up. She was thinking about that, he thought, or the answer was no, and she was not telling him what she was thinking.
So he did what mani did. He did not give her an answer. He waited.
And waited.
“Nandi,” she said quietly, long after that silence had become uncomfortable. “One is only just realizing—”
He might get the rest of it if he he shut up and let her figure out her sentence. So he did, and she still was not looking at him.
“We thought we might be brought into your father’s service,” she said eventually. “But that proved not the case. We were left asi-man’chi.” That was to say, on their own family man’chi to each other, no one else’s. “We did not feel at ease here. We did not find a place.”
“Because I am a child? Or because you do not really have man’chi to my father, either?”
“We began to have, to him,” Veijico said in a low voice. “We thought we might. We wanted to, nandi. But he gave us away. And we tried. But we found none here. We had no idea—”
It was hard to wait. He was entirely upset with what she was saying. But she was getting the words to the surface, finally. And on mani’s example, he just waited, no matter how uncomfortable it was or how long it took. And when she understood that was how it was, she began to answer him.
“We had no idea, nandi, what was wrong here. We did not find a place. We tried. But we—”
Another lengthy silence. He still let it continue.
Veijico cleared her throat. “Nandi, one has no idea of the man’chi in this entire household. We came here willing to join this household. But it seems to us—”
Third silence.
“It seems to us, nandi,” Veijico said, looking up once, if briefly, “that your man’chi is not to your father the aiji but to the aiji-dowager. And to nand’ Bren. And even to persons up on the station.”
He took in his breath. He had no such idea. “I shall be aiji,” he said angrily. “And I shall have no man’chi.”
“But now you do, young lord. Or you seem to.”
“Well, there is nothing wrong with it, nadi! Nor are you in authority over me! We are two months short of a felicitous year!”
“One is trying to explain, young lord. Not to offend you.”
Second deep breath. “Do explain, then.”
There was another long silence. And Veijico still stood looking generally elsewhere.
“We understood you would be a child,” Veijico said. “And we were prepared for that. That you have a student regard for the aiji-dowager—is expected. But your regard for nand’ Bren . . . We were not prepared for that, in coming here.”
“Nand’ Bren is a very important man! My father trusts him! Mani trusts him! And I trust him!”
“I have just spent time with nand’ Bren and his aishid in Tanaja, nandi. I do not say I understand him, but one respects his patience and his consideration with one he need not have regarded. He has placed me very much in his debt. One understands, now, your estimation of his advice.”
“So does my great-grandmother regard his advice,” he retorted. But there, he had had an outburst of anger, and he had let her stray right off the track. And: never suggest the direction of your thoughts, mani had told him, and never suggest how to please you, if you want to know the truth from someone. So he said: “Finish what you were telling me.”
The room went very quiet for several moments. “Just that—we were not prepared for this household, nandi.”
She was getting away from him. He had let her get off the track, and she was not coming back to it.
“That is not all of it,” he said. And he realized that she had never yet looked him quite in the eye. “Look at me. If you want to be here, do not lie to me.”
More silence. But she did look at him—she had to look down at him—everybody did. But he folded his arms and stared right back up at her, with his father’s look. He had practiced it.
“You are a remarkable boy,” she said.
“I shall be aiji,” he repeated. “And my bodyguard has to be mine.”
“That it must, nandi.”
“So can you be?”
Again that glance to the side. She was going to dodge the question. And then she looked back, straight at him. “When we came here, when we came here, nandi, we found no connections. This household—is full of directions that made no sense. They are strong directions. There is nand’ Bren. Lord Geigi. Your great-grandmother, not least. Cenedi. Banichi. They are not unified, though they cooperate. And we seemed most apt to fall under Cenedi’s orders, but if we connected with house systems, your great-grandmother was in charge; and nand’ Bren runs the household, with Banichi. And then there is Ramaso-nadi. And then the Edi, who are foreigners. And agreements that by all we can tell run counter to your father the aiji. Then nand’ Toby is here, and he has connections to the Presidenta of Mospheira. All, all are very powerful interests, and one has no idea how they intersect. So we did not know what was happening or what orders we might get or what effect they might have. We tried to succeed for you. But we had no clear sense of whose orders we were following.”
“Is that an excuse for ignoring me when I was going downstairs, or not knowing where I was?”
She did not look away this time. “It is not. One offers no excuse, nandi. We sensed you were annoyed with us, we sensed you wanted us to obey you; it was within the house, everything was safe—and we thought we would not lose you. Perhaps you wanted us to lose you. We did. And then we realized we had made a serious mistake, and we feared that you might have gone outside to shake us. It was our mistake, we knew we had fault in what happened, we tried to redeem it, and it only got worse.”
He understood how that was. He had been in that situation far too often.
But she was an adult. Did adults get into that kind of mess?
And then it was as if a puzzle-piece clicked into place.
“You should have come back to me. I was out there on the porch. You should have come back to me. But you had no man’chi. Not to me. Not to my great-grandmother. Not even to my father! Had you?”
She did not flinch. “No. At that point, we were without man’chi. We had no idea what to do, then, but we were lost, and we had no clear sense what we were to do. One is grateful to the paidhi-aiji. To him. To his aishid. After everything that had happened . . . one felt, with his aishid—one felt at home. Even in that place, one felt safe. One understands his quality. I know my estimation weighs nothing in this house. But I am sure now you are associated with one person whose direction is impeccable.”
“Nand’ Bren, you mean.”
“Yes, nandi. Nand’ Bren.”
“But not my great-grandmother.”
“One does not understand her, nandi. But one does not expect to understand a person of her quality. It is enough to understand that nand’ Bren follows her.”
“He cannot take you! I would be very surprised if he would, and you should not ask him!”
“No, nandi. One would by no means expect it. One is very junior to that aishid. We would have no place there. And we were assigned here, Lucasi and I, and one hopes—one hopes to find a place with your household, in spite of all we have done. One hopes Lucasi can find his way back. But if he does not—I would do all I can to find another partner, for the balance. If one were permitted.”
She was upset. He was upset with her being upset, for different reasons. And mani told him never talk when he was upset.
So he did not. He walked away a few steps and looked back at greater distance.
“If you stay, you will not behave badly toward Antaro and Jegari.”
“No, nandi. They have deserved your respect. I clearly have not.”
“
You will always be second to them. They have always been with me. They are in my man’chi, and they have never done anything I did not approve.”
“One accepts that, nandi. I have skills, and I can teach them. I can bring them to Guild rank, nandi, in your service, and I will do that. I am older. At my best, I have mature judgment, which I would endeavor to use in your service, and I would do so wholeheartedly, if you will give me that chance. One asks. One asks, knowing one has not performed well. One would be honored to form a team with Jegari and Antaro.”
It was his decision. It was maybe the biggest decision he had ever had to make. And it was going to be even harder to undo if he was wrong.
“You will listen to Cenedi and Banichi, both, nadi, and you will not do another such thing as slip around my orders!”
“I entirely agree, nandi.”
So. She had answered everything. He had run out of questions. “Then you will be here,” he said. “Your baggage is still in the room.” He started to walk out and leave her to whatever she had to do to move back in. But there was one thing he ought to say, that he wanted to say, and he stopped and gave a little nod of the head. “One hopes they find Lucasi safe, Vejiconadi. One very much hopes he will also come back.”
“Nandi,” she said faintly. “Thank you for your expression.”
10
A whole night’s sleep. Without nearly as much pain to wake him every time he tried to move.
Bren waked both with the astonished realization he was not in significant pain and the vague impression of hearing someone of his bodyguard stirring about. Which meant it was probably just before dawn.
A tentative wriggle of the shoulders and turn of the head produced one little residual crackle, but no lockup and no pain.
Odd. He hadn’t known his back was exacerbating the ribs. But it had been. The shoulders could relax. So now the back could. And the chest almost could.
The whole business came of being blown down flat on his shoulders, Bren decided. The impact of the bullet from the front, the lump on the back of his skull—that cursed small gilded chair which had both broken his fall and gotten in the way of it—
And he was convinced now, even without the evidence of the x-rays, that he was only bent, not broken. It made him feel better, if only in morale. He’d taken worse falls in his misspent youth. He’d fallen down a ski slope no few times. He didn’t bounce as well nowadays. But he was starting to get the better of this.
If he lived to get out of Tanaja.
That thought sent him toward the edge of the bed. He needed to get to work. People depended on him. His aishid did.
He hadn’t quite made it upright when Jago came through the door, whisked it shut at her back, turned on the lights and whispered, with a worried expression:
“You must get ready, Bren-ji. Lord Machigi is here.”
“Here?” He shoved himself to his feet. “What time is it? Jago-ji. Clothes. Please.”
“It is still dark out,” she said, and started for his closet, but Tano came in from the other door, and without a word Tano went straight to the closet and started pulling clothes out—shirt. Trousers. Jago diverted over to the dresser, and laid out linens.
Machigi. Here. In his rooms. Before sunrise.
That was not necessarily bad, but it was probably not good, either. Machigi would not be patient about whatever it was. And it was probably something he didn’t want a lot of publicity for.
Either that, or Machigi had been up all night reading those papers and decided the human should share the misery.
He made a fast trip to the bathroom. Shaved. Slapped feeling into his face.
If he were atevi, he would have had to sit down on the bath bench to have his hair combed and queued. Tano did it in the bedroom while he was standing and tied the ribbon of his queue as carefully as he could, while Jago was helping him on with his shirt, not even protesting that he should wear the cursed vest. She just reached for the coat while he did the buttons himself.
Between the two of them, they had him dressed in record time—no tea, no time to get his wits in order, but at least his collar was straight. The half-buttoned coat somewhat hid the lack of a vest.
Banichi and Algini were, presumably, holding the fort in the sitting room. He walked in, where, indeed, Machigi was standing glumly by his fireside, with two bodyguards darkening the doorward side of the sitting room. Banichi and Algini were on the left.
“Aiji-ma,” Bren said quietly, with a little bow.
“You have caused me trouble,” Machigi said.
“One is distressed to hear so, aiji-ma. Please inform me.”
Machigi swung around toward a chair and slouched down into it, leaning back and staring up at him like a predator at his prey.
“Throughout my administration we have had at least courteous relations with Senji Clan and the Dojisigi. Now we do not, and it is not on my timetable.”
He could do one of two things. One was to plead he was innocent, and the other . . .
“If one has inadvertently shined a light on something already moving in the shadows, one would not count that a disservice, aiji-ma.”
“Tell me you have nothing of personal bias! The matter of an apartment in the Bujavid, we are told, is well-known in the Marid.”
“The Farai of Senji Clan have offended me, yes, aiji-ma. But an honest person does not advance a personal cause and paint it as advantageous to one’s lord. I have never done so, nor do I now.”
“Brazen fellow!”
He was directly challenged. He was insulted. His integrity was questioned. All of a sudden he was convinced there was nothing for it but go straight ahead with this no-nonsense young lord. He found his center, win or lose, all or nothing, for all of them. “I am often frank but never shameless, aiji-ma. I will own any action I have taken, personally, to your disadvantage. But I do not take responsibility for the underlying character of the Farai or for the unfortunate necessity yesterday for an action which I am certain your guard undertook advisedly—and not by my advice.”
A short breath. That might have been a laugh. Or absolute frustration. “You walk into my city, you lodge under my roof, and in less than two days, you have destabilized a third of the Marid, paidhi. Is this how you usually work?”
“I would rather urge I have only been here two days, and your enemies have lost no time trying to bend your policies in their favor. One could have no doubt they are annoyed with me.”
“As are my people, seeing one of your agents has attacked them!”
Bren lifted a careful brow. “One of my agents, aiji-ma?”
“That boy you allegedly lost.”
“The lame one.” God, as if he didn’t know. Hell, what had Veijico’s brother gotten into? More to the point—had he killed anybody? Shot up a Taisigi village?
“That one, yes, paidhi-aiji. How many agents do you have loose in our territories?”
“Only that one, that I know, aiji-ma.”
“What are his orders?”
“To find his sister and Barb-daja, aiji-ma. He has evidently not heard they are back safely. If I could reach him, I would convey that news, but unfortunately neither he nor his sister left the house with Guild equipment.”
“Stupid,” Machigi said, “and inconvenient. Are we expected to believe this?”
“Something has happened beyond the incident you name, aiji-ma. Please inform me.”
“You have issued no orders?”
“Unfortunately, no one is in contact with this young man, aiji-ma, not that I am aware, and not that my aishid is aware. He and his partner are young and inexperienced. At one point I had recovered the boy, but I let him off the bus before we entered your land. One hoped he would have the sense to contact senior Guild at Targai. May one inquire the nature of the provocation?”
“He has disrupted a delicate sitution.”
Better and better. And dared one guess it had to do with Machigi’s opening complaint this morning, relations with the Senji?
??who lay north of Targai and in a geographical line with the road they had taken in here “Unfortunate, aiji-ma.”
“Who is this fool? What are his orders, nandi?”
“The boy, with his partner, was set to guard Tabini-aiji’s son. He went out with his partner after Barb-daja, and he did report to me at Targai. He was injured, he was on another mission, once I was ordered here, and I put him off the bus before we crossed into your territory—hoping he would search discreetly and report back to Targai.”
“Gods less fortunate, paidhi!” Down went Machigi’s arm on the chair arm, and security twitched. Bren didn’t. “The timing of this is all yours! You have stirred up a resting situation, antagonized the Senji and the Dojisigi, and given us a situation far more complex than a search for your missing staff!”
“One has no idea what this boy has done. Might one hear the offense?”
There was a moment of sullen silence. Then Machigi said, “He noisily discovered an outpost we have been attempting to ignore. He escaped. Now it becomes impossible officially to ignore its presence.”
“Senji?” Bren asked. “The base from which operations have been conducted toward Najida?”
“Do not suppose yourself the sole object of offense, paidhi. Do not be so flattered.”
“Senji. Operating in Taisigi territory. You are uncharacteristically patient with this situation, aiji-ma.”
“And you are impertinent!”
“One merely seeks to understand, aiji-ma. You have observed this situation. You have done nothing against it. One is astonished.”
“Do not be! You come in under the aiji-dowager’s auspices, bearing a peace flag from the Guild, no less, and loosing a man from your expedition to sabotage an operation, asking me to use forbearance in apprehending him. Oh, I am not pleased, paidhi.”
They were in danger. Serious danger. “One hardly has knowledge what operation this boy may have disrupted, aiji-ma, but there was no advance knowledge. You were in danger, and the aiji-dowager, not the Guild, intervened to offer an alliance. In point of fact, you are in a difficult situation or you would not have tolerated Senji intrusion onto your land. You have already moved against potential assassins. Your guard has successfully protected you this far, but they have been unable to rid you of a situation in your territory that has, one takes an unsupported guess, infiltrated your operations at Kajiminda and attempted to put you in the worst possible light. Whoever has done this is not your ally, and yet you have tolerated this presence in your land, observing but not moving to obliterate it. Is it that strong? I would think Senji, rebuked by your destruction of such a base, would simply pretend it had never existed . . . rather than go to war with you. War was never Senji’s choice.”