“Banichi believes they are presently on the road we used. On our track.”
The silence from downslope persisted—until a single shot from below added one more quandary to the debate.
What in hell were Machigi’s forces doing—if not chasing them? They had a damned war going on in their district, and Machigi decided to make a grab for Kajiminda? Damn him!
Or could a coup have put somebody else in charge of Machigi’s guard?
“Can you contact him, Jago-ji?” Damn the rules on Guild communication. “Tell his guard to stand off. We have enough going on here!”
“Banichi has the communications.”
Twice damn it.
“Can you signal him to contact them?” he asked. “Tell them to stand off.”
“Yes,” she said, and relayed something in verbal code, and nodded.
“Nawari signals presence,” she said with a deep and relieved sigh.
That was the dowager’s guard.
And early. They had been on their way before Dur had shown up. Thank God.
The area was quiet, now. They were hearing nothing from the enemy.
But they had one shiny new problem.
Machigi.
And he’d promised to represent the man.
Where did thatcome in?
They could hike back to the van and deal with Machigi. They could hike to Kajiminda and have the Edi—
God. The Edi.
The Edi were holding Kajiminda. Machigi was on a road in a direct line with the spur to Kajiminda, with a likelihood of going there.
Do what? Go back to the van? Hope Machigi didn’t open fire— hopethat he could get Machigi to turn around and keep away from Kajiminda. Hope that it was even Machigi in charge of that lot of Taisigi—if they were Taisigi?
He didn’t know if he could walk that far. The blisters had gotten bad. He wanted to take the damned boots off, but he knew the rocks and dry weeds would finish the job. He wanted to shed the damned vest, but this was certainly no place and no situation in which to do it.
Damn, he thought, weary and hurting. Just damn.
Things were going rapidly to hell.
Jago, however, had remained in active communication with Banichi. She took a look downslope and then urged them to move out.
Down. Into the open.
God, he thought. They were going to get shot. He levered himself up, however, and did it, with Lucasi holding his left arm and limping on the slope, and Jago holding Lucasi on the other side. It was a long, long descent toward the rocks that had sheltered their attackers. One lay dead there. A bloody trail led off to the east.
Something moved, a dark figure from around that corner that scared hell out of him. Algini had joined them, and Jago had immediately taken position by a towering rock, rifle aimed upslope.
Someone was coming down. But Jago just held her position. Banichi, Bren thought, and he was right. Banichi arrived as Jago turned her back to the rock and let him past—Banichi carrying a heavy lot of gear with him.
“Bren-ji,” Banichi said pleasantly, as if they had met in the house. And then, utterly businesslike: “Nawari has sent for the bus. He will intercept it for us and hold it. But we have our other difficulty. Which direction, Bren-ji?”
A ride. Instead of a walk. But the question remained.
And not a question. Not with the whole west coast settlement in jeopardy.
“Both the Edi and Machigi know that bus,” he said. “With it, we stand a chance, nadiin-ji, of getting their attention.”
“And others’,” Tano said grimly.
“Dare we contact Machigi’s forces? Do you know if Machigi is actually with them.”
“We have spoken to Tema,” Banichi said.
Machigi’s senior bodyguard. Then that question at least had an encouraging answer. Or at least a surer direction.
“Is there any clue,” he asked, “what they want?”
“We have asked,” Banichi said, “and they have—”
A distant rattle of small-arms fire came from beyond the rocks. To the south.
Machigi’s position.
Dammit.
“What do they want?” Bren reprised the question.
“They say, to test the proposed treaty.”
Right into an Edi district. With gunfire breaking out.
“A renegade convoy went that direction,” Bren said. “Can you call them, Banichi? Can you find out who is firing?”
Banichi opened the bag he had brought with him and rapidly plugged his short-range communications into the larger unit.
He made the call. Or tried to. No response. Then something did get through. Banichi gave back a set of code words.
“They are engaged with the renegades,” Banichi said. “But report a second direction of fire, indiscriminate.”
The Edi. God. “They should not come farther west,” Bren said. “Tell them to hold where they are.”
Damn!
And they had to stop it.
***
There was racket outside. Cajeiri thought it was the yellow plane landing.
But it was not the plane. And he was not sitting in the hall any more. He was lying on the couch in Great-grandmother’s sitting-room, and Antaro and Jegari were standing nearby.
And the young lord of Dur, very impressive-looking in his brown leather coat, which Cajeiri so wanted—was standing on the other side of the room talking to Great-grandmother and Cenedi.
The plane had landed, and the young lord of Dur was here, and here he was, waking up on mani’s couch looking stupid.
He got up, fast.
“Is my ribbon tied?” he whispered to his bodyguard, since he had been lying on it.
“Yes, nandi,” Jegari said.
He knew his coat was wrinkled. He tried to put it to rights. Antaro and Jegari helped him, and he went very quietly over to where the young lord was talking to mani.
Mani was, however, in a cheerful mood.
“We shall retire for a while,” mani said, “since my great-grandson has now come back to the living. Cenedi, you are to go off duty for a while. That is an order. Lord Geigi is abed and has not roused. Dur is surely exhausted.”
“It has been a long day, aiji-ma,” the young lord said. “But a good day. Excellent news.”
“Nandi,” Cajeiri said with a little bow. “Mani-ma. News?”
A gentle thump of the cane, which rarely left Great-grandmother’s hands. “We have just dispatched the bus up from the village—where it has sat out this nuisanceful day. Nawari has called for it. He is in contact with nand’ Bren’s guard. There is another inconvenient circumstance reported, but we demand sleep before we deal with it.”
“The bus is going to pick up nand’ Bren!”
“That it is, young gentleman,” Cenedi said. “But say nothing yet to nand’ Toby. We do not have him back.”
“May one ask?” he began, feeling wobbly on his feet. “May one ask, mani-ma—?”
“We do not yet have him back,” mani repeated. “Do not trouble nand’ Toby with what we cannot answer. But Nawari has called for the bus. He is in contact with the paidhi’s guard. Go find your bed, young gentleman. It is not over. Sleep when you can.”
“Mani,” he said, bowed, and managed to walk decorously to the door and let Antaro open it for him.
He walked outside. So did the young lord from Dur, who politely bowed. And one had to apologize. One was embarrrassed, and distracted with worry, and full of questions nobody would answer.
“Nandi,” he said to young Dur, remembering the yellow plane, and his father, and other scary circumstances. “One was waiting to see you.”
“One understands so, nandi. One will be extremely honored to renew the acquaintance at leisure. Nandi.”