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 notbeen his fault. He had disappeared downstairs to teach them a lesson about ignoring him, and theyhad turned it into a total disaster. It was absolutely theirfault, 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 himfor 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. Hehad 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 couldhelp him—ship-speak was almost Mosphei’, and he, better than anyone in the house, could make nand’ Toby understand him.
So he was essentialif 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 shuttered. 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.