Conspirator

  “They are not in my man’chi, nor am I in theirs, aiji-ma. And my mother very rarely corresponded with that branch!”

  “So you say. What would you have done if you had found my great-grandson at sea? Ridden him under? Or held him hostage, pending nand’ Bren’s walking into a trap?”

  “I wished to rescue the boy, and to meet with the paidhi-aiji, on the boat—I would have told him—I would have asked him to rescue me from my predicament—I would ask to sail into Najida, and for the boy’s safety, I would be safe in his good opinion.” Baiji cast a frantic look at him, and Bren drew a deep breath. “I would have done it! I would have asked for your help, paidhi-aiji! I did so even under my own roof!”

  Lost your nerve twice, Bren thought. Or did you only just think of that explanation?

  One could want a bath.

  “Or,” Ilisidi said, drawing Baiji’s attention back to her, “Or shall we tell you what we really think, Baiji-nadi? Let us favor you with our opinion! You became fearful of the new changes, yes; and you found comfort in your Marid bodyguard, who promised you their man’chi, who made you dangerous to your neighbors, who made you a threat to the whole coast—”

  “Aiji-ma!”

  “Can you deny you had become so?”

  “One wished only peace, only to deal out the pieces as one had to, and keep the peace. My uncle was safe in space. He would not return. One would wait to see how the negotiations went between the aiji and the Marid.”

  “And if well, you would be important . . . and you have cousins in the Marid, part of their politics. Perhaps you would marry that girl after all.”

  “One meant to straighten it all out, once the aiji in Shejidan had given some indication how all the dealings with the South might come out.”

  “When it was all perfectly safe! Does it occur to you, Baiji, that it will never be perfectly safe, so long as you have any power at all? Did you have any notion where you would ever tell these people no?”

  “One is uncertain what—”

  “One is uncertain what atrocious thing you would stick at, if it crept up on you by degrees, Baiji son of Dumaei. Your failing came on you by degrees. Your involvement with the Marid came on you by degrees. Is there no time you have imagined when you would ever call a halt and take a stand?”

  “I warned the paidhi-aiji!”

  “Not in so many words,” Bren said. “No, nadi. Your behavior warned my guard . . . and killed your own.”

  “Aiji-ma!”

  “Fool,” Ilisidi said. “If you had acquired any power, if you had brought any independent power to the hands of the Dojisigi, the Tasaigi would have had you for appetitzers, and them after. It was their game, it was their game all along, and now one understands the occupation of the paidhi’s apartment in the Bujavid by the Farai . . . who doubtless pass along whatever tidbits of information they scavenge. The Marid, four clans of the mainland, is One, that is how the numbers of four districts work out: the One is centered at Tanaja in the hands of Machigi, who has inherited all the ambition of his predecessors Saigimi and Cosadi—Cosadi, who backed Murini in his adventure—and, ah! indeed, they have your aunt’s man’chi.”

  “Not mine, aiji-ma!”

  Machigi. The new aiji in Tanaja. Quiet, hitherto. Bren tried to put a face with the name, and failed.

  “You surely,” Ilisidi was saying to Baiji, “have met the man.”

  “We—we have never corresponded.”

  “We have been remote in space, and yet we can comprehend the maneuverings around you. The numbers of them are not hard to parse. Why cannot you?”

  “One—one begins to see, aiji-ma.”

  “Oh, one begins to see! Blessed gods, man, need I say so? Machigi backed his cousin Murini of the Kadagidi so long as it profited him. We have wondered whether his latest moves were represented more strongly by the Farai’s approach to my grandson, their offering of man’chi—their repudiation of Murini—or exactly what they might be up to. In what more sinister direction it might manifest was not apparent, since you kept their secrets and conspired with them in actions that threatened the paidhi’s life and my great-grandson’s.”

  “No, aiji-ma, I never conspired!”

  “Fool, I say! You are right in one thing: had Murini survived and my grandson perished, Murini would have lasted a scant year or two before the Tasaigi killed him—one imprudent marriage too many, one cup of tea in the wrong hands, and Murini would have been out of the question altogether, and I have no doubt Machigi of the Tasaigi would by then have positioned himself with the help of your alliance with that Dojisigi child. Machigi would kill you the moment you produced an heir, foolish boy. The Dojisigi relatives would move in with your heir. And they would have the coast, and Machigi would have them!”

  “One never—never—” Baiji’s eyes were wide and astonished. “One never saw such an outcome. Aiji-ma, one begs forgiveness.”

  “Of me you do not have it. I do not say beg it of the paidhi-aiji: he is too gentle! Obtain your uncle’s request for clemency, and I may, may broker you a marriage with a nice Eastern woman of good sense and more mature perspective. Live to produce children! That will be your use to the Maschi clan, if Lord Geigi fails to strangle you with his own hands!”

  Marry off this fool? Bren thought, somewhat set aback.

  But part of the situation was that the Maschi clan had worn away to near nothing, diminished to a single clan in Sarini province, while its privileges and influence had grown immense, enough to tempt suitors. Geigi, the aishidi’tat’s old ally, was growing no younger, had never produced an heir, and this was what he had to leave in charge?

  It was suddenly much clearer to him what the issues were, and exactly what the dowager was offering, in brief: there was one ability Baiji had left to make himself useful, and the dowager would personally make his choice for him, as a favor to Lord Geigi—thus providing the fading Maschi clan a sure link to a clan on her side of the continent, lacing up the aishidi’tat into a safe, tight unity.

  “Aiji-ma.” It was a very quiet voice, a very shaken one.

  “Oh, come now. You like your soft, safe life, do you not, boy? You enjoy being called nandi, you enjoy good food, good wine, and a dearth of responsibilities. You scarcely have to appeal to the Marid for a marriage. We can arrange that—and a younger daughter of a middling-strong house of the East. You can have all of this and live a long life, so long as you stay out of politics and hire strong-minded tutors we approve for your offspring. This is your chance. Take it!”

  “Aiji-ma.” Increasingly shaken, but with eyes utterly fixed on Ilisidi. “One would be grateful. One would be very grateful for your speaking to my uncle on this matter.”

  “Have you any other thing to tell us? Be forward in helping us!”

  “Only—only that there are papers in my office. Behind the desk, a panel in the wall, nand’ dowager. You would find these of interest. One has kept every incriminating thing.”

  Covering all possible directions he might ever go, Bren thought with distaste, and whoever he might need to blackmail. He didn’t believe this reform. He didn’t in the least believe it. And in the way of atevi power marriages, it was very little likely Baiji would have charge of any offspring. An heir. Any heir—and his responsibility was accomplished.

  “Then you may retire and have your breakfast,” Ilisidi said. “You may have saved your future.”

  “Aiji-ma.” Baiji rose and bowed, and bowed to Bren as well, as the three servants came alert—so, before that, had Cenedi and Banichi and Jago.

  “But you do know,” Ilisidi added casually, “that you will not survive long, resident in this district, so close to the South. You have no resources to take on Guild of sufficient level to save your life.”

  “Aiji-ma!”

  “We do, in the East. Perhaps that would be a safer haven for you . . . far, far from the lords you have betrayed. You would be a great fool to contemplate going to them. You understand this. Now that you have assured we
shall not kill you, you have assured that they will. Within our shadow is the only safety for you, from henceforward.”

  Baiji was certainly not the most intelligent soul on the continent, Bren thought. But the facts of the situation did apparently come through to Baiji at that point.

  “You will stay to meet your uncle,” Ilisidi said, “and then fly east. Far east. Where you may have a future.”

  Snow and ice was the reputation of the East. It was far, far from the sunny harbors of the western coast. But Baiji bowed profoundly, murmured his parting courtesies and left the room with his escort.

  “He will turn any way convenient, aiji-ma,” Cenedi said.

  “A hiltless knife,” Ilisidi agreed. “Great-grandson, I daresay you have not met as great a fool as Baiji.”

  “No, mani. I am only one short of nine and I know better than he does.”

  “And what are you doing here in your bathrobe?”

  “Mani, protecting you from that man.”

  Ilisidi laughed gently, and set her cane so she might use it. Cenedi quietly offered his hand, and she rose. So did Bren, with a bow.

  “Aiji-ma.”

  “We are improved,” Ilisidi said. “We are much improved, nand’ paidhi. We have a solution to that fool, and we shall have a solution to the South. Cenedi, communicate with my grandson’s forces and have these alleged papers at Lord Geigi’s estate found and brought. Nand’ paidhi, we shall keep our promise and retire for a few hours. Perhaps until dinner. Great-grandson?”

  “Mani?”

  “Do not do anything that requires you to leave this roof.”

  “Yes, mani.”

  There was not even any resistance about it. Everyone looked exhausted, and the company departed its separate ways.

  All but him. All but Banichi and Jago, who stood to the side.

  “My brother and Barb-daja?” he asked of them.

  “They have come up to the house, Bren-ji,” Banichi said, “for their breakfast. House staff is attending the repair of their boat—which has numerous bullet holes. It was a very narrow escape they had. If not for the pump, the boat would have gone down, so nand’ Toby says. It was still running when staff brought them up to the house.”

  Bren let go a long sigh and came around the chair—he took each by an arm briefly, atevi custom be damned. “One has you back and safe, nadiin-ji,” he said. “Forgive me. Words cannot express—how glad, personally, how glad I am.” He let them go. “Now that a foolish human has said so, I shall stop being rude.”

  Banichi made a sound in his throat, half a laugh, and Jago tilted her head and gave him a down-the-nose look that said she had things to say on that rudeness, but wouldn’t until later.

  “Tano and Algini report,” Banichi said, “that they believe the enemy penetrated house defenses here while they were absent with you, nandi. Even past the dowager’s protections here—they got through . . . to a grievous mistake on the part of the two who died.”

  “Algini knew the intruders,” Jago said. “They were high in the Guild under Gegini.” That was to say, the Guild leadership during the overthrow. “Nochidi and Keigan, senior Guild, within the Guild itself. They survived the service of both Sarini and Cosadi.”

  Previous bids to unseat Tabini: Sarini was dead. Cosadi, now deceased, had been another problem out of the Marid, and an elder cousin to the current one. Now they had a new problem. Machigi. Who had come damned close to doing what the others had failed to do.

  That the two intruders Algini and Tano had done for had been senior Guild, good enough to get past Ilisidi’s guard—that sent a chill down the backbone. They’d gotten far enough, deep enough into house defenses to have taken any of them out . . . except Tano and Algini, except Cenedi and Nawari. Close call. Very. The Marid didn’t spend its elite teams lightly.

  It was of a par with Ilisidi saying that the paidhi-aiji had become the primary target.

  Leave the coast, go back to the Bujavid? That was a worse situation, with the Farai right in their midst, with their secretaries, their guards, their staff . . . their access to install anything from listening devices to a bomb in his apartment—or against Tabini’s apartment wall.

  “Not a comfortable thought,” he said. “One surmises this will not be the end of it, nadiin-ji. One assumes the aiji will now move against the Marid.”

  “One does assume the aiji will now dislodge the Farai from the paidhi’s apartment,” Jago said dryly, “for a start.”

  It could be downright treasonous, that utterance . . . the implication that Tabini-aiji had been a fool.

  Or perhaps Jago had meant something else. Along with the aiji’s power came the obligation to be both subtle and clever.

  “He did not force me out here to draw fire, surely.” One entertained that uncomfortable thought, momentarily. “He need only have suggested I visit my estate. One would gladly have gone . . .”

  “The aiji at least permitted the Farai to be inconvenient to him,” Banichi said with a lift of the brow. “But one surmises he was concentrating on doings in the South when he made the decision to be patient with them, and perhaps he was testing the Farai’s intent. One by no means believes he would have allowed his son to remain here a single night, had he had the suspicion of hostile presence.”

  That was true. The assassination attempt had been opportunistic, he believed that. But it led inevitably right back to the Marid and this new problem. Machigi. He had to study up on the man. Baiji’s value to the Marid had plummeted when Tabini-aiji took power back from Murini, but the value Baiji had retained was that of a staging area for a very important operation . . . namely removal of some of Tabini-aiji’s key assets. An heir? Grievous as that would be, rumors were that Damiri might produce another before the year was out. The dowager? A very hard target, and one that would not thoroughly or immediately disrupt the west coast—which was the arena of Marid ambitions. The East was irrelevant to them.

  But the paidhi-aiji held Najida—which was a property on which the Farai had at least some legal claim . . . had the paidhi not come back from space. Najida—which was poised just below the Northern Isles, and right next to Kajiminda and Dalaigi—the largest town on the western coast.

  Click, click, click. Things began to drop into little slots.

  “Dare one wonder,” Bren asked them, “if the paidhi has been a desired target for some time? They have not appeared to relinquish their hope of setting the west coast in disarray.”

  “Cenedi has requested still more reinforcements,” Banichi said. “They should be arriving by morning.”

  “One is glad to know that,” Bren said. And again touched both of them. “You should take as light a duty as possible, nadiin-ji. Let Cenedi’s force manage things. Baiji poses no threat. Cenedi has men on the roof. Rest.”

  Banichi looked at him as if thinking of asking when the paidhi-aiji had appointed himself to the Guild; but then he nodded. “We both shall,” Banichi said.

  “Go,” he said. “Now.”

  “And you, Bren-ji,” Jago said.

  “As soon as I have talked to nand’ Toby,” he said. “A courtesy. No need of escort. And then I shall go straightway to my office and do a little work.”

  They looked not of a mind to agree to that. They were on the last reserves, and perhaps not at their most reasonable. They just stared at him, both, in adamant silence that indicated that, orders or no orders, they would neither one be off duty until he was settled somewhere they approved . . . nor would Tano and Algini.

  “Then I shall do my work in your quarters,” he said, “where you all can keep an eye on me.”

  Banichi looked slightly amused. “We will provide you a chair in which to work, Bren-ji. No more of this wandering the halls alone.”

  “Not when people drop out of the ceiling,” Jago said.

  So it was out into the slightly damaged hall, down to the dining room, where Toby and Barb, windblown and in shocking condition for the dining room, were just finishing up their br
eakfast.

  “Bren!” Toby said, looking up.

  A little bow—he’d been in atevi mode: was, still, mentally; and tried to adjust. Toby looked a little nonplussed, then said, “Oh, hell, Bren, it’s me,” and came and embraced him, hard as Barb got to her feet.

  “Glad you made it back,” Bren said. “I hear you ran into trouble out there—I heard about the other boat. There should be people out now looking for any intruders on the peninsula.”

  “We managed,” Toby said, standing at arm’s length. “And you got the kids back.”

  “They got themselves out,” he said. “The aiji’s men are mopping up over there, and the dowager’s dealing with the details. How close is your boat to seaworthy?”

  “My own estimate?” Toby said. “With luck, about two days.”

  “I’d send you off in mine,” Bren said, “but you met a good reason not to be out at sea at the moment. This is a major operation. There’s a good likelihood the boat that tried to sink you came out of the township to the south, and that means either the opposition stole it or they have allies there with assets. The aiji will be calling in naval forces, probably from up in the Islands, but it’s going to be a few days. You’re better off here.”

  “Are we safe here?” Barb asked.

  “Safe as anybody can be with Guild on the hunt,” Bren said. “The whole region is going to be dangerous. There could very easily be another boat out there, trying to make a run in here. The village is on the alert, watchers up and down the coast, so we hope we will get a warning. Figure that any move that’s easy to see could be a diversion. The enemy lost a senior Guild team trying to get at me. And they damned near made it—might have, if we hadn’t scrambled who was in what room.”

  “At you,” Toby said, “specifically? Twice?”

  “Very possibly. Sounds a little egotistical on my part, but my security seems to read it that way. They’ll take other targets if they can get them, no question. But the operation probably started when they knew I was coming in. They’re making a play to get at their old enemies the Edi, and to own the southwest coast—the Marid is a maritime power; they have no assets in the central regions. But they do have ships. They’ve got more ships than the aiji’s navy does, if it comes to that: they can convert their island traders and become real damned difficult to deal with if they can get a few ports to use unchallenged, up on this coast.”