Money. Something which Baiji had been spending wildly in his first few months in his stewardship. One had not seen the monument to his mother, but there was talk of marble columns and siting the thing up on a scenic cliff with a permanent light. One could only imagine.
And who had built it? He had not hired the Edi. He had called in a company from Separti, who ended up presenting him with more bills than he had planned, and said that supplies were short because of interruptions in shipping—there was a deal more about Edi engaged in piracy and sabotage, but not, of course, the servants, who were grateful to him for his good management and his looking after their interests.
Amazing. Baiji had the cheek to say he had thought his staff was being infiltrated by spies. And he had secured a loan “at advantageous interest” to support the estate and keep it “in the style my uncle would approve” despite the downturn in the general economy during the Troubles. He had arranged to buy fish from a company in Separti, when Kajiminda had not been paying its debts to Najida for that commodity—a detail which he had somehow not written down—did he think the lord of Najida would miss that little detail?
Baiji had made all these brilliant moves and secured money which he put on interest “at the bank,” while paying interest to the trading company which had lent it to him—“to encourage good relations” because the trading company had “very advantageous ties” to “people in power.”
Of course they did. The account mentioned names, none of which meant anything to him, but which his staff would be looking up in a different database.
He was building up a good head of blood pressure when Ramaso came knocking at the office door to report there were nineteen people at the train station wishing to see Lord Geigi.
Two blinks. Three.
When one’s mind had been deep in Baiji’s illogical account, one found just a little difficulty focusing on that statement.
“Staff, nandi,” Ramaso said in uncharacteristic excitement. “Kajiminda staff. They are coming back!”
My God! “Have they transportation, nadi?” Najida ran the local bus service, for all this region. It was, originally, why they hada bus. But it was too good a piece of luck to be landing in their lap. Could they trustthese people?
Sending Guild out to investigate Edi who were on their way home after what they had been through—that would not be the most politic thing to do, even if the Guild and the Edi had trusted one another.
“They hope Najida will send the bus,” Ramaso said.
“They will not accept Guild surveillance, Rama-ji; but how shall we know all these people are uncompromised?” Threats against relatives, hostages taken, held under extreme duress— were not the only possibility. “One is extremely distressed to say so in such happy circumstances, but one can think of no better way to breach Najida’s security.”
Ramaso took a deep and sober breath. “Indeed, nandi. But other Edi can judge them. The Grandmother of Najida, with her people—she will get the truth.”
“Would she consent to go meet them? Ask her, Rama-ji, and if she will, arrange to have the bus pick her up in the village.”
“Indeed,” Ramaso said, and bowed, and hurried out.
Which left him worrying about the Grandmother’s safety. But where Aieso went, her wall of young people went with her, and any Edi would-be assassin would be daunted by her mere presence.
Well, he thought—at least one hoped so. It was the best they could do. They had to rely on the lady.
So he went out and down the hall to advise Geigi of the event personally.
“News,” he said when the servant let him in, “Geigi-ji. Nineteen of your former staff have arrived at the train station.”
“Excellent!” Geigi exclaimed, getting up from his chair, and immediately called for his coat and his bodyguard.
“One has requested the Grandmother of Najida to meet them on the bus,” he said. “In the interests of security.”
Geigi was not slow. He froze for a moment, absorbing that, then: “One will meet them here under the portico, then, with your permission, nandi.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“I shall have to go home today,” Geigi said. “And our plans have to accelerate, Bren-ji. Your house can absorb no more guests, and they will want to go there immediately.”
“A dangerous situation, potentially very dangerous.”
“One has no doubt of that. But one must, Bren-ji, one simply must do it. Our plan must go into action, to that extent— depending on what these people have to tell me. I have no choice but to do this. They expect to be able to go home.”
And bringing these people under Najida’s roof—or declining to do so—both courses held risks. On the one hand—bringing them in would expose them all to the danger Geigi intended to deal with, that one of them was a threat. On the other— it would insult the Edi to treat this as anything other than a happy event and a homecoming. Geigi saying I have to do thishad a whole wealth of meaning, and much as he would like to argue with it—there was no argument.
“The wreckage is at least cleared away from your front door,” Bren said, “so the workmen report, and work has begun on resetting the pillars. Najida workmen come and go there, but the place is otherwise under the aiji’s seal, with his guards. One believes the dowager has been in contact with Shejidan on that score. They can be urged to leave as you come in. They must be.”
“Must be, indeed,” Geigi agreed.
“Supply—Outside of what the aiji’s men brought with them, there likely is a want of most things. And vehicles and communications. We have not arranged that. This has caught us all by surprise. We are not ready to have you there, Geigi-ji.”
“Now we shall draw on my own financial resources,” Geigi said, “which are not inconsiderable. If my staff feels safe to do so, they can go down to Separti and buy what we need, even a truck, if we may borrow transport from Najida to get that far.”
Rely on the Edi to check things out and to be sure of the security of the sources and the items from Separti, where they knew there were Marid agents?
He was entirely uneasy about that, too. Guild could be damned clever at their work, and one had far rather rely on other Guild to figure out the likely ploys, when it came to high-level operators.
“One worries about this,” he said plainly. “One worries extremely, Geigi-ji. One is quite sure the Marid will try something when this news gets to them. They will have been embarrassed—granted they did not arrange this.”
“My aishid will be with me,” Geigi said with a little shrug. “For the rest—I shall simply trust my staff. I always have. Without them—there is very little point of my existence as the lord of Kajiminda, is there?”
“One can think of extraordinarily many points to your existence, Geigi-ji! Please remember that you are an associate the dowager and I and the aiji himself would be extremely grieved to lose. You are a target. You are a high-value target! If the Marid could take you out—”
Geigi laughed. “I shall take no chances, Bren-ji. I do trust the Edi. From the beginnings of my life I have trusted them. This is no different. I know their faces. I know their expressions, of all my people. I speak their language that they use among themselves. If I detect a problem, I shall signal you immediately.”
“I shall go talk to the dowager,” he said, “and hope we can arrange this smoothly.”
They had about half an hour or less to arrange things smoothly—somewhat more for the Guild inside Kajiminda to arrange their situation.