It suited their purposes, so long as the wheels and tires held out.
But his bodyguard were still discussing the route and a branch in the road ahead. He caught the edge of it, which involved passive reception of some signal and the possibility of encountering legitimate Guild at the airport. Or the enemy. Legitimate Guild would, the consensus was, move on the airport and the train station. They would take those as a priority.
“But,” Tano said, “we cannot produce the right codes for either side.”
That was a problem, Bren thought, beginning to grasp the nature of the debate. He had been halfway to sleep like Lucasi, but now he slowly levered himself up to a sitting position in the aisle, against the seat.
“Perhaps, nadiin-ji,” he said, resting an arm on the seat edge, and speaking above the engine noise, “perhaps Ishould be the password. My voice is reasonably distinctive on the continent, is it not?”
“Far too great a risk, Bren-ji,” Tano said.
“As great a risk if we are all shot at because we have the wrong codes?” he said.
“That is a point,” Tano said.
There was silence from the front seats.
“It is, however, illegal for you to use Guild communications,” Algini said, from the other side. “We are almost certainly within a Declared zone.”
Rules. Regulations. It happened to be what the fighting was about. Guild communications were Guild communications.
He couldn’t say it wasn’t important. “Then youtell them. The Guild would hesitate. Our enemies would not. They would come after us. That would sort it out.”
Banichi said, “We do not have fuel enough or speed enough to outrun a pursuit.”
Silence from the front seat.
“The hunting station,” Tano said then. “There will surely be some local communications. As well as fuel.”
“Dead-reckoning to Najida low on fuel is not my preference, either,” Banichi said, and suddenly turned the wheel, waking Lucasi, who sat up in alarm and grabbed at the seat back ahead of him to save himself from sliding under Banchi’s seat. “The middle road. There is no connection here to there but a hunting plain. We are about to start some game, nadiin-ji.”
If our suspension holds up, Bren thought, holding on to the seat. If our steering holds out.
“Where are we going?” Lucasi asked faintly, getting to his knees and up to the seat.
“There is a hunting station,” Tano said, “and another road. The place may be shut down for the season. It maybe in hostile hands.”
Comforting thought. Bren had the most confused notion of which direction they were going, but it seemed to be generally away from Najida—not due south, which would have backtracked, but southwest.
There had been a road on the Taisigi side of the border. There was some sort of road that led down through the hunting ranges. He wasn’t even sure it continued to the border. If it did cross the border, it would do so nearest Kajiminda.
Except—
“The renegades staged their operations against Kajiminda from somewhere, did they not, nadiin-ji?”
“There is that possibility,” Tano said.
“We shall need to find out,” Algini said.
***
The shooting had died down for a while. Cenedi came downstairs to inquire how mani was getting along and to report that there had been contact with intruders but no casualties on their side, except one villager who had reported in for medical treatment for a cut from a rock chip.
Mani and Geigi had both slept, and Cajeiri had, too, at least a little nap before Cenedi came in. Now it felt like breakfast time, and Cajeiri’s stomach was empty.
“Well, well,” nand’ Geigi said, when he mentioned it, “do not wake Cook at this hour, but is there anything in the kitchen?”
“There are sandwiches and tea, nandi,” Cenedi reported, in the dining room. “Shall I have staff bring it down?”
“Staff has enough to do,” mani said. “If we are quiet, let these young rascals bring us a tray.”
Something to do. In great relief Cajeiri instantly got to his feet, and so did Antaro and Jegari.
Mani snapped, “Not you, young gentleman.”
“But three of us can bring enough down for everybody, mani.”
“Then no diversions. Go straight to the dining room and straight back. No nonsense! Do you hear?”
“ Yes, mani-ma!”
One lost no more time for fear Great-grandmother could change her mind. Cajeiri headed for the door with Cenedi, and Jegari and Antaro came right behind him.
It was down the hall and up the servant stairs. Cenedi took the door to the dining room hall, but they kept going the back way to the kitchens and on through to the dining room, where it was spectacularly true: There were stacks of sandwiches, and an urn of hot water for tea, and and tea sets and carrying-trays. They piled up good helpings on three trays, filled a big teapot that had seven cups and then took the route out into the hall, because the kitchen, with its ovens and cabinets, was a cramped space to be carrying big trays through.
There was a sudden strange sound, far off from the house, hard to figure.
It seemed to be an engine, a powerful one. And all of a sudden there was shooting from off the roof.
Cajeiri stopped. Antaro and Jegari stopped. They were in a hallway right in the heart of the house, with thick walls between them and any trouble, and Cajeiri delayed to look around the corner to the main hall, to find out what was happening— thinking maybe it was his father’s men coming in and that that was covering fire he heard.
The vehicle was coming right to the front door, right under the portico. And the shooting was still going on. Somebody was trying to reach them, Cajeiri thought. Trouble outside was trying to stop them.
Then an explosion banged through the main hall, like thunder breaking, and a wind came with it, and things were breaking and splintering, and the wind threw him sideways, with trays and hot tea and sandwiches spilling everywhere. Cajeiri hit flat on his back and hit his head, and before he could get up, he heard shooting going on in the main hall, just a few feet away.
Then shooting came back from the garden hall, near the bath, and there they all were in the middle of the dining room hallway, and his head really hurt.
“Nandi!” Jegari scrambled over to him through puddles of tea and started helping him up, dragging him to his feet. Antaro grabbed his other arm.
The tea, Cajeiri thought foolishly. They had broken one of nand’ Bren’s teapots and most of the cups. He was on his knees in the hall, and his ears were still ringing so it was hard to get his knees under him.
“Enemies,” Antaro said, pulling at him, “in the house.”
Cajeiri struggled up and had no chance even to catch his balance. Antaro and Jegari dragged him through the door back into the dining room.
They had no guns. Cenedi and all mani’s guard and Lord Geigi’s and even Veijico were up here, involved in the fighting. They could not have enemies coming downstairs and finding mani and Lord Geigi with no protection.
“Downstairs,” he said, out of breath, his head pounding. He had never been so scared in his life. He was ahead of his guard, blind headache and all, on his way to the kitchen stairs and down them.
But when they got to the foot of the stairs, there was fat Baiji, barefoot, in a night robe, running toward them in panic, from the end of the downstairs hall.