Betrayer

  And he had managed to advise the dowager that the bus should arrive and with whom. If it didn’t—well, she would have no doubt they had a problem, whether or not he ever had a chance to know it.

  The legislature had declined to make her aiji in her departed husband’s stead—partly because her proposals about the west coast had scared hell out of them . . .

  So it was round two.

  Or round three . . . she’d outlived her son and was down to her grandson.

  And for one reason and another, her great-grandson had now spent more time in her hands than in Tabini’s.

  Now she was kingmaking in the Marid.

  Now he began to understand it. She’d been watching Machigi. She’d been calculating.

  And she’d made her move.

  Hadn’t Tabini warned him, when he’d first sent him off into Ilisidi’s domain—beware of my grandmother?

  He felt just a little light-headed, and stood there a moment quietly and deliberately redistributing blood where it belonged.

  He had great confidence in Ilisidi. He knew her. He understood her impatience with war and waste . . . and her utter contempt for special interests that had gotten their fingers into the legislative process. He knew her resources, and he had known he had to work within what she had, not what she could obtain.

  So his creative lies on her behalf were not off the map. He’d stayed within possibility, and she was going to back him.

  Whether or not she ultimately intended to follow through with the alliance in any way, shape, or form, or whether her aim was to create the possibility and paralyze the Marid in internal conflict—he was still alive. So were his people. There was a good chance the bus really was going to get through.

  And even if all she currently intended was to create a mess in the Marid to ensure a time of tranquility on the west coast, she was an opportunist: if he presented something she wanted, she would listen.

  So there was nothing for him to do now but sit down with a cup of tea and think through just what else he had to propose to Machigi. Once Machigi had heard the report of that conversation, with all the understanding another ateva could bring to the issues, he was going to have questions, objections, and points to raise.

  And did Ilisidi know about the situation with the renegade Guild?

  What Algini had learned from Machigi’s bodyguard was ominous, and there was no way he could have told Ilisidi what they had learned. That would have blown everything. But the Marid situation was possibly more worrisome than Ilisidi knew; possibly more than Tabini knew . . .

  The entity that might know was the Guild leadership itself, who might or might not want to share that knowledge with members not under its administrative roof.

  Maybe there was a reason the Guild had leaped at the chance to outlaw Machigi. And he had put himself in the middle of that situation.

  Well, he had gotten it stopped.

  But was the epicenter of the renegade problem here, in Tanaja, or was overthrowing Machigi the aim of renegades based elsewhere?

  That left the Senji or the Dojisigi, or both, as the base of renegade operations.

  The Farai, a subclan of the Senji, with strong ties to the Dojisigi, had snuggled close to Tabini, tried to establish residency in the Bujavid in Shejidan, right next to Tabini’s apartment, on the strength of an ancestral claim to that residence. It was one thing if it was ordinary Marid mischief afoot.

  But if it was not the Marid itself pulling the strings . . . if it was an operation aimed at letting renegade Guild into the Bujavid . . .

  God.

  They could have a problem. They could have a serious problem.

  He needed to do his job here and get back to Najida where he could get contact not only with Ilisidi but also with Tabini, on an urgent basis. He had to hope Machigi could be persuaded, and could become useful in solving the renegade Guild problem from inside the Marid.

  He had no references. He had none of his accustomed, familiar maps. He had what he had in his head. And he had what maps Machigi would be willing to provide, of whatever vintage or accuracy.

  “Nadiin-ji,” he said to his bodyguard, “I shall sit down and take a few notes until the maps arrive.”

  4

  The bus was coming in. Everybody in Najida had known for sure the bus was coming since afternoon, when it had dropped off people at Targai and picked up people and set out for Najida.

  The bus coming back meant a lot of things.

  It meant everybody must be all right, but things were still dangerous: Cajeiri had that figured. Great-grandmother almost never showed worry, but house staff did: they were in a dither.

  And Great-grandmother had been just a little sharp with him at lunch, when he had come up to get lunch for nand’ Toby. He had asked if he should tell nand’ Toby that Barb-daja was coming back.

  “Never promise what you cannot personally swear to, Great-grandson !” Great-grandmother had snapped at him. “Think!”

  Well, he had thought, had he not? That was why he had asked, and it was not fair of mani to have spoken sharply to him. He was only infelicitous eight, and he made a few mistakes, but he was making far fewer lately.

  Still mani had chided him.

  Mani was worried about nand’ Bren, and worried about the whole situation. That was what he picked up.

  But if she was that worried, why had she sent nand’ Bren and Banichi and all over there in the first place?

  He saw no sense in what mani was doing. Lord Machigi was the same Lord Machigi who had caused holes to be shot in the woodwork at Najida and who was responsible, Cajeiri was still relatively certain, for doing in Lord Geigi’s sister and corrupting Baiji, who was still locked in Najida’s basement, just down the hall from where he took care of nand’ Toby.

  But on mani’s orders, nand’ Bren was a guest of this lord, along with his bodyguard, and they were all in danger. Nand’ Bren had phoned to say he was all right, but that did not make anybody less worried about him.

  So Great-grandmother, who had ordered him to go there, and who was being nervous, also thought things could still go wrong.

  Machigi’s people might have attacked nand’ Bren’s bus and all those Guild aboard before it even got out of Taisigi land. That had been the first concern when they knew nand’ Bren had sent the bus back.

  But it had gotten safely to Targai, over in Maschi clan territory, and Targai had phoned and said it was coming on to Najida.

  With Barb-daja and Veijico.

  And now it had really, truly almost gotten here with nobody shooting at it.

  So Cajeiri felt more and more anticipation—and still a little dread, because nobody had said whether Barb-daja was entirely all right, that was one thing.

  But the other passenger—

  Veijico.

  Veijico was his problem. Vejico and her brother had deserted his aishid, run off into the night, drawing nand’ Toby into an ambush and getting nand’ Toby shot and Barb-daja kidnapped.

  And then she had run off, following Barb-daja, maybe to undo what she had done, but to no great good, and they still had not found Lucasi, who was lost somewhere in really dangerous territory and maybe dead.

  He would be sorry if Lucasi should turn out to be dead. But the two of them going off like that and causing all the trouble they had caused was behavior he, being their lord, even at infelicitous eight, had to say something stern about. They had broken Guild regulations. Cenedi was mad at them. Everybody was.

  More, what he felt about them was complicated, because he was glad Veijico was alive, but he was not sure he wanted Veijico and her brother back in his household at all, and there was nobody, with everything else going on, who had time to tell him what to say or do if he wanted her to go back to Shejidan. Those two had been nothing but trouble since his father had assigned them to him, and they had been constantly rude to Antaro and Jegari, who were only apprentice Guild, but who were in their way.

  Antaro and Jegari had volunteered to be hi
s bodyguards from when he had come back to the earth, and they had been in very serious situations and had people shooting at them and always protected him. Antaro and Jegari had risked their lives keeping him safe—and were still with him, did what he wanted, and would throw themselves between him and a bullet, he had no question, while Veijico and Lucasi had gone off and left him.

  But there ought to be value in them, all the same—because Veijico and Lucasi had been assigned to him by his father—real Guild, not just apprentices—because Najida was a dangerous place.

  They had sounded all right at first. They had promised him all sorts of things they could do, including hurrying Antaro and Jegari through their courses and teaching them, personally.

  But Veijico and Lucasi had taken serious exception to his still having Antaro and Jegari as number one partnership in the household.

  That was where all the trouble had started—well, plus the fact that Veijico and Lucasi really were very smart, and thought they knew everything about everything, and had even gotten pert with senior Guild—which told him they were not as smart as they thought they were.

  They had offended Cenedi, who had been extraordinarily patient with them, and that was just stupid on their part.

  And they gave orders to nand’ Bren’s household staff as if they owned the estate.

  They had not gotten into the household network, which they had been supposed to do to keep him informed: Cenedi had refused to give them access, since they had been contrary with Cenedi.

  They had run out of the house without orders and let Toby and Barb go with them.

  And then, when things had gone totally wrong, they had run off without telling Cenedi or him where they were going.

  So they had made a mess of things. And Lucasi could be dead.

  He had to admit he had not managed them well. And they were his staff, even if he had had no choice in having them. He hated failing at something.

  He supposed, in the first place, he should have expected they would resent Antaro and Jegari, and maybe he should have done something different about organizing his staff.

  But why? Was he to demote Antaro and Jegari just to suit two newcomers, when he had never even asked to have them in his household in the first place? That was just not fair. He had promised Antaro and Jegari they would be first. How could he break a promise like that?

  Maybe they had had feelings about being assigned out in the country, too, when they thought they were so good.

  Maybe they had come in a little mad in the first place because they were being assigned to a child, even if he was his father’s heir. Well, that was understandable. He was not very glorious, yet, compared to being assigned to his father’s household in Shejidan.

  And to top all, after acting as if they were so knowledgeable, they had lost track of him between the upstairs and the downstairs of the house, panicked, and then let nand’ Toby and Barb-daja go out of the house hunting him, with disastrous results.

  That part had not been his fault. He had disappeared downstairs to teach them a lesson about ignoring him, and they had turned it into a total disaster. It was absolutely their fault, not his.

  Mostly.

  And all of that had led to nand’ Bren getting sent into the Taisigin Marid, in Tanaja, under the roof of Machigi, who was the person who had been trying to kill all of them ever since they had gotten here.

  He was mad at Veijico. He made up his mind he was entitled to be mad at her.

  And he did not know what he was going to say to Veijico when he saw her, but he was already determined she had better not say anything pert to him to start with. And she had better not blame him for what had happened. And she had better be respectful.

  He had just as soon not see her at all if he had a choice. But because of Barb-daja coming back, he was very anxious to be early on the scene when that bus came in. He stationed Antaro in the upper hall to advise him when it was about to arrive. He had to stay close with nand’ Toby, and he could not leave him with just staff. Nand’ Toby could speak a few words of Ragi, but he made mistakes, and some of the staff had strong rural accents, which made it worse.

  And he had to be very sure nand’ Toby did not hear any rumors, especially if it was bad news, because he already had mani’s instruction on that point.

  At least nand’ Toby, though tall for a human, was about his size, and Cajeiri could help him—ship-speak was almost Mosphei’, and he, better than anyone in the house, could make nand’ Toby understand him.

  So he was essential if nand’ Toby got upset, and he had promised nand’ Bren.

  What nand’ Toby wanted to do today, unfortunately, was get up and walk. Nand’ Toby said the bed made his back hurt, and he was tired of lying there.

  So he just helped nand’ Toby walk up and down the hall, with him on one side and Jegari on the other. They made three trips the length of the hall, nand’ Toby seeming a little steadier as they went. He wanted most of all to keep nand’ Toby busy and keep him from asking questions.

  This morning nand’ Toby had asked him very plainly, “Have you heard from Bren?”

  And at that time it had been an easy answer: “No, nandi, not yet.”

  This afternoon it would not be an easy answer, and once they had gotten nand’ Toby back to his room and back to sit on the edge of his bed, he asked again, “Nothing from Bren yet, is there?”

  Lying was wrong, most of the time. But telling the truth right now went against mani’s orders. It was clear that nand’ Toby was tracking things very sharply, and starting to think about things, and maybe he had heard somebody talking out in the hall this morning.

  Barb-daja, when she came, could tell nand’ Toby the truth about where nand’ Bren was—it was all but impossible she would not tell him—but first she had to get here safely, which would calm nand’ Toby a lot.

  So he lied again and said, “No, nandi, not yet.”

  “I’m getting worried, here. Don’t they have phones over—wherever he is? Isn’t his bodyguard communicating with Cenedi? What’s going on?”

  “I’m sure the Guild is communicating, nandi. But I don’t know what they say, and my bodyguard doesn’t know.” He had never regretted being fluent in ship-speak, until now. He said, miserably, “They don’t tell me everything.”

  Toby looked him in the eyes. Toby’s eyes were brown as earth, and honest. Like nand’ Bren’s. “I forget how young you are sometimes. You’re as tall as I am.”

  “Almost,” Cajeiri agreed, wishing word would come so he could get out of this conversation. He knew nand’ Toby was going to find out he had lied. It was all going to come out, and nand’ Toby was going to be his enemy forever.

  And then footsteps came running down the hall, light footsteps that raced straight to nand’ Toby’s door. A knock, and Antaro opened the door herself and said, “Nandi!”

  “Just a minute,” he said to nand’ Toby, and he got up and went outside with Antaro and shut the door.

  “The bus is up at the crossroads,” she said in a low voice, breathing hard. “They are coming, nandi.”

  “Is Barb-daja all right?”

  A slight bow. “One has not heard, nandi. They are not talking with the bus because of security.”

  He put his head into the room, said, “I’ll be right back!” and then shut the door, leaving nand’ Toby only with Jegari. He headed down the hall with Antaro, keeping up with her long strides—Antaro, like Jegari, was in her late teens and at least a head taller than he was. They were Taibeni, from the woods, hunters, even if the Guild would not let them have weapons as a matter of course. They were protection: they knew how to move; and they were apprentice Guild, at least.

  The two of them climbed the stairs fast and came up onto the main floor, which was not bare stone and concrete like the basement. Upstairs was all polished wood paneling, stone pavings, and a glorious stained glass window—except the window was all dark, now, covered in boards outside, the way every window in the house was kept shuttere
d. The whole house had a feeling of being wrapped in blankets, darkened, made into a stronghold. The lights upstairs were always on, day and night, and servants were always somewhere about—in this case, gathering in the hall, waiting.

  Mani had her suite in mid-hall. Cenedi came out of that door. And the security station was set up in the library, which was even closer to the big double doors that led outside: Nawari and Casari came out of there, and joined Cenedi. Ramaso, nand’ Bren’s majordomo at Najida, came and stood on the other side of the hall from Cenedi, with several of the staff. The servants all had heard the news, just about as fast.

  If one was still a little short of fortunate nine, and wise about it, one situated oneself at the intersection of the dining room hall and the main hall and kept very quiet and out of the way.

  One hoped Jegari could keep nand’ Toby in bed downstairs. Jegari was at least bigger than Toby.

  The crossroads with the main road was not that far from the house, and the bus would not be wasting any time, he was sure. Cenedi was just keeping the house doors shut because having them open even for a moment had been dangerous lately, and the bus was big and noisy and could draw fire if there happened to be snipers out there. The several of Great-grandmother’s bodyguard who were posted on the roof would take care of enemies if any showed themselves, but Cenedi was still being careful.

  “One hears the engine,” Antaro said, and it was true: he could hear it too, and so must everybody else. Cajeiri took a deep breath and composed himself not to fidget. He straightened his cuffs and tried to look as proper as possible, given he had been working and did not have on one of his better coats. Antaro had a wisp of hair loose from her queue, but he did not point that out to her, either. Antaro had been working hard and had an excuse.

  Outside, the bus rumbled up until the sound echoed off the portico roof, and it came to a stop right outside the doors.

  Then Cenedi signaled to open those doors, Ramaso passed the order with a move of his hand, and two servants unlocked them and threw the bar back.