Outside, the halls echoed to the sort of noise a lot of people made finding a place to be, and there was a lot of coming and going on the servants’ stairs, just beyond the wall—usually one could not hear that at all, but the servants were in a great hurry.
Then it got quiet all of a sudden, so it was clear mani had left her room without any delay and was coming in this direction. The quiet went on, and outside, in the main hall, people would be stopping what they were doing and bowing.
Cajeiri stood up from table. Lord Geigi did. And his bodyguard came to attention. One heard the cane first: tap. Tap. Tap. Then mani came in, with only Nawari in attendance.
“We rejoice to see you safe, Geigi-ji.” That was as informal as mani ever was. Nawari moved her chair for her and took the cane for a moment as mani sat down, then Nawari took his place along the wall. They were three at the table. Fortunate three, without Cenedi. Mani could notsend him away.
“So speak, Geigi-ji, speak!” mani said, as servants arrived out of the back entry and quickly arranged the final table settings with very little fuss and then began to provide hot tea. “Tell us everything in order!”
That was how close an association mani had with nand’ Geigi. Cajeiri made himself very quiet and hoped Cook would not break in with breakfast too soon.
“You will be aware, aiji-ma, that an order has come down from the Guild,” Lord Geigi began.
“We are well aware,” mani said, leaving Cajeiri frustrated and unable to ask what that order was.
“How much do you know, aiji-ma?”
“My grandson spoke to Bren-paidhi this morning. He has Filed against the entire Farai presence in Sheijidan. He is offering them three hours to exit without conflict. This is the sum of things in Shejidan.”
“One is not surprised. The region is fast headed for extreme difficulties, aiji-ma, and Targai is being reinforced at this hour, to prevent any spillage of the conflict toward Najida. Your grandson will try to hold the trouble there.”
“So the reinforcement has arrived,” mani said.
“Some of your grandson’s forces have arrived at Targai,” Geigi said, “while four have insisted on providing security to me on the road here and intend to reinforce Najida.
Reinforcements—”
“—Are moving up from Separti Township,” mani said with a wave of her hand. “We are aware of it.”
They were going to have a war?
But what about nand’ Bren? Cajeiri wondered, biting his lip. What about everybody with him? What about Banichi and Jago and Tano and Algini?
But then Cook, doubtless proud of his efficiency, sent in the servants with the first course of breakfast.
And that meant there was no answer until after breakfast, and no sulking about it, either, or one would be sent from the table. Mani and Lord Geigi went on talking about the seasons over near Targai, and the two representatives from Targai who had come here with Geigi to make contact with the Edi—they were Parithi clan, a subclan of the Maschi.
Which was close to talking business at breakfast, except that everything else that was going on was very much too serious even to think about over food.
Cajeiri picked at his breakfast and had only one egg, and nobody noticed; so mani was upset, too, or she would have pushed another egg on him. Things were serious. Terribly serious.
She, however, said, at the end of breakfast: “Wari-ji, keep us apprised.” Which meant tell her anything that had happened or was going to happen. And then: “Geigi-ji, attend me in my parlor.”
Breakfast was over. Mani and Lord Geigi were going to talk in private.
But was she going to get nand’ Bren out of the Marid?
Cajeiri wished he were big enough and his guard were old enough.
He said to Veijico, under his breath, when they left the dining hall and were headed to mani’s apartment, to see if they would let him in for a felicitous third: “Jico-ji, go stand around security and learn things.”
“Yes,” Vejico said crisply and headed off at a tangent as they reached the hall.
Probably, given her partner was missing, the security station was where she very much wanted to be, to learn any detail she could.
And he had called her by the familiar, which he never had. She was adult, mostly. She was a weapon, the way Cenedi was, and in all that was going on, he was not going to turn loose any protection they had.
Especially a bodyguard who really knew how to use a gun.
The world was getting scary. That was the truth. And it was moving fast. And it wasn’t a good morning. Not at all.
***
“Poisoning us,” Bren said, faced with what was a truly attractive service, and with the servants still in the room, “is a process of inconveniently many steps, though conservative of the furniture. One believes we may just have breakfast this morning, nadiin-ji. One believes your lines of communication with the kitchen are either accurate, or they are not.”
“Still,” Jago said.
But Bren sat down, and Machigi’s servants hastened to pour tea, the first time they had admitted the servants to serve a meaclass="underline" Machigi said they were handpicked. It deserved, in Bren’s estimation, acknowledgement of that fact. “Sit with me,” he asked his own guard.
“Provide me your company. We have done all we can do, or at least I have, nadiin-ji, and at this point I can only wait. If we are so far misreading things, there is no help for us.”
Which was not altogether disingenuous, since it was a deliberate bravado and utter suspension of their discretion. At this point their best protection was Machigi’s belief in their frankness, and too much quiet in the suite was an indication things were passing hand to hand—as they had.
It wasa fine breakfast, probably Machigi’s own ordinary menu, and with warnings from the servants: “The green dishes, nand’ paidhi, are those your staff has listed as unpalatable to you.”
“One is grateful,” he said. So nice to have the poisons inventively labeled, in very lovely emerald green dishes that were probably from another, equally elegant, set. “Such a graceful solution to the difficulty. My compliments to the staff, and I shall recommend it to my own household.”
“One will relay the sentiment, nandi,” the senior servant answered.
It tasted as good as it smelled, a plethora of eggs and smoked fish—not originally to his taste, but over the years he had come to appreciate good preparations, and this was the best. The bread was hot and fresh from baking. The fruit jelly was delicious. He overdid a little, having lived mostly on tea and toast until now. Best take food when one could. A lot of it.
After breakfast, the hall was full of Machigi’s guards, and God knew what was afoot elsewhere—phone calls and radio were flying hither and yon, mostly southward and shore to ship, one could imagine. Machigi had two allies, the southern clans and those ships that plied the harbor; and if he could rely on them, he would be advising them in whatever terms and codes he had at hand.
That was all Machigi’s to do.
The paidhi was, in effect, down to a role more as hostage than as mediator, since their exterior protection was in Machigi’s hands, and in the hands of his bodyguard—and in the fact that the Guild would exact a heavy price from whatever agency was proved to have assassinated the paidhi-aiji. It was not great comfort, that thought.
As for Guild policy in Shejidan, it had either gone a hundred eighty degrees about face, and Machigi’s survival was the new policy, at Tabini’s urging—or the Guild was taking its own course, and even Tabini might not know what would happen until it happened.