And Lucasi and Veijico had been in the library with Tano and Algini—who might have let them hear all of it, he supposed— glum thought—or maybe not.
He gathered his aishid in his own apartment, himself sitting by his own fireplace and its comfortably warm embers. “Sit down,” he said, “nadiin-ji.” And they took the other chairs, all four of them.
“How much did you hear?” he asked Lucasi and Veijico. “And how much did you understand?”
“We heard,” Lucasi said, “that they are hoping Edi will function in the place of the Guild in protecting this region, and that Lord Geigi intends to move into Kajiminda faster than the aiji’s Guild occupying it would like. We heard that Maschi clan leadership may no longer be reliable.”
That was certainly an aspect of it. One could gather Tano and Algini had somewhat discussed that problem in their own terms. And one also gathered Lucasi and Veijico clearly did not think Geigi was being smart.
“The Edi know everything that moves on the coast,” he reminded them. “And they are used to managing this area, nadiin-ji.”
“They failed to advise nand’ Bren there was a problem. That was wrong.”
“Talking to the Edi is a problem. You know they have a rule against talking to outsiders. Nand’ Bren has gotten past that now. So has my great-grandmother. And Lord Geigi is their lord—besides, mani is already talking about putting the Edi in charge of part of this coast. So the Edi are talking to us now. And they are part of the protection of this house.”
“They have no skill against real Guild,” Veijico said. “And should not be relied on. Your father ought to know this, nandi.”
“One is certain he will know it,” he said, annoyed at their pertness with opinions. “But the Marid Guild did notsucceed in taking this house, or in holding onto Kajiminda. So they are not as smart as they think they are. And the Edi are not doing badly.”
His older bodyguards looked more than a little offput. Then Lucasi said, “That is no measure of success, nandi. The Guild does not holdpositions. Holding positions is a lord’s business. Holding is politics, and the demonstration of power.”
Well, thatwas a recitation from some book.
“So it is my business to hold things,” he said. “And yours to take them. When I say so.”
Silence, from the troublemakers. “Yes,” Antaro said quietly. Jegari nodded. But not the other two.
Useful to know the Guild’s opinion of its uses.
“The Edi,” he said, “have done very well.”
“ Notwell,” Veijico said.
“Better than the Marid Guild,” he said. Tag. Point for his side. He liked winning an argument, too. “Some of them are dead. The Edi were smart. They sided with Great-grandmother.”
“Still, nandi,” Lucasi said, “they are irregulars.”
“They are alive,” he said, “and the Marid’s Guild have been trying to take over for years.”
“Kajiminda’s Guild has prevented it, nandi. It is notirregulars who have defended this coast.”
He liked the notion that his bodyguard would talk back to him: Cenedi talked back to Great-grandmother, and Banichi talked back to Bren. But Lucasi and Veijico were being stupid. And that made him mad.
“That was,” he said shortly, “after Kajiminda’s Guild went off and got killed in the Troubles, or never even got to Shejidan, for all we know. They died.”
“Possibly the Edi that served Kajiminda all died, too,” Veijico said. “Since they are missing.”
“Nandi,” he corrected them sharply. “You say ‘nandi.’”
“Nandi,” Veijico said.
“And you are to mean it, nadi!”
A bow of the head and noopenness of expression from her or her brother. Mani would never put up with it. They thought he had to, being a year short of nine.
“I have been in space,” he said, just as nastily. “I have been on a spaceship and on a station andthe shuttle, and I have seen people who are not atevi and not human, either, where we all could have gotten blown up. So I know things, nadiin. I have gotten myself out of trouble. And Antaro and Jegari and I all three were in a war. You were not. So you should listen.”
“We listen, nandi,” Veijico said glumly.
“You are rude.”
“ No, nandi, we are notrude. We are advising you, for your safety.”
“We do as we please, nadiin! Youdo not. Weget away with things because we are not loud about it and we do what our guards by no means expect, but also because we listenabout what is dangerous and what is not and we do not go some places. We are not stupid, nadiin! You think anybody not Guild is stupid. You think the Edi are stupid. You probably think everybody in the staff is stupid. Superior thinking, mani says, does not consist of thinking oneself superior. We think you should reconsider who is stupid.”
There was a moment of deep, uncomfortable silence.
“We stand corrected, nandi,” Veijico said coldly.
“You should,” he said. It was as good as mani could do— almost. And they had deserved it. He was still mad. Which was not satisfactory. He hated being mad. He hated having people see that he was. Face! mani would say, and thwack him on the ear until he mended his expression. Which he did—mended all the way to a tight, small smile. And got up, so they all had to.
“It will be a very formal dinner tonight,” he said, meaning whatever bodyguard attended him had to eat beforehand or after. The little dining room was going to be wall-to-wall security— literally shoulder-to-shoulder Guild, considering nand’ Bren’s little estate had so many important guests.
And maybe the boredom of standing about this evening, while Antaro and Jegari ate at leisure in the suite, would give Lucasi and Veijico enough time to think about the seriousness of the situation, and about the fact that they were in among very senior security who had earned the right to respect.
“You two will attend me,” he told them. “All day.” He planned to do his lessons, which was the most boring thing he could think of, and not to let them off. “You can stand at the door and keep an eye on things. Jegari and Antaro will be helping me with my homework.”
For the paidhi-aiji, it was a formal evening coat, light green, and freshly pressed, with only a moderate amount of lace— comfortable, a country style. It was one of Bren’s favorites, comfortable across the shoulders, unlike the court-style that was intended to remind the wearer about posture—constantly. He slipped it on and went down to the front door to welcome Toby and Barb into the house. It was an exposed walk, coming up the hill, and he breathed easier when the door opened and let them in.
“I gather Lord Geigi made it in all right,” Toby said. “We saw the bus. Fancy!”
“Everything in order,” Bren said. Toby didn’t bow. He didn’t. And they didn’t touch, in front of staff, which they always were, in the hall. “Barb. Good evening.”
“Are we proper?” Barb asked in a low voice. Toby’s lady—his own ex, which was an inconvenience—but one he was determined to ignore. And do her credit, Barb tried. Toby and Barb had come up the hill wearing good Mospheiran-style clothes— that was to say white trousers, light sweaters, Toby in blue, Barb in brown with a little embroidery, and in Toby’s case, a dress jacket, the sort one might wear to a better Port Jackson restaurant. It was as formal as two boaters got, within their own wardrobes.