Their Najidi driver got on board and started up the engine, closing the doors. Villagers and staff cleared away slowly from the path of the bus.
The village truck was waiting out on the road, loaded with such bulky things as flour, preserves, and other foodstuffs and basic necessities from Najida estate—there was no likelihood the aiji’s men would have allowed anything to remain in storage from the prior resident when they were clearing the place, for fear of poison, and just as a matter of policy. The search and clearance would have taken the pantry down to bare shelves, Banichi said, and so the truck would go on back to the train station, not down to Separti, and pick up a double supply of groceries they meant to order in, some for Kajiminda, and others for Najida and its village. It might be slightly short commons this evening, give or take what Najida sent, but supplies would be coming in tomorrow.
There was a load of lumber coming in, too, on the train; not to mention Lord Geigi’s new truck—that was already ordered. And a bus. Kajiminda would need its own bus, and fairly soon.
Kajiminda was coming back to life, and took all manner of supply. It wasa cheerful prospect they had.
And somewhere out there across the meadows and small woods, Edi were out doing their own survey of sites, which would mean more building supplies coming in from the south. Businesses down in Separti and Dalaigi were going to be happy about that—without quite figuring, yet, perhaps, that the way politics had run on the west coast for two hundred years was about to undergo a sea change.
The truck traveled ahead of them, too, for a very practical reason—it protected the bus. Though Ilisidi’s young men had kept a very close eye on the district, one never forgot there were some very good Guild doubtless under orders to infiltrate and cause harm of various sort. Guild rules protected non-Guild from involvement; but one had, Algini had once said, no confidence that the Guildsmen in Marid employ were going to be as observant of the rules.
“Some Guild in Southern employ now are outlaws,” Algini had said on that occasion, a rare revelation about internal Guild operations, “who did not report in to Guild headquarters after the aiji’s return. Some are reported dead, which the Guild very much doubts. We have been quietly hunting these people. Some are suspect of crimes and illegal tactics.”
Chilling memory, on this occasion.
But thus far the Guild was handling the whole district with tongs—because of the Edi.
He would bet a great deal that Algini had communicated personally with Guild headquarters, to relay to Guild leadership certain very unpleasant observationsc and possibly to receive certain orders from Guild leadership. Algini had said he was no longer operating at that level of the Guild, but the fact was that those who didoperate at that level of the Guild were inclined to develop a cover story, so no often meant no, but it sometimes meant one was not talking.
Geigi had settled opposite him, with his security standing just behind, as his own sat and stood near him; and the bus moved quite slowly, pacing itself behind the truckc which had not yet run into any undermined culvert, or other such illegal trick.
“I am nerving myself for what I shall see, Bren-ji,” Geigi said. “The devastation of my grounds, my orchardc my collections. I wish this were a happier moment in that regard. But I have recovered my people. Mypeople.”
“Be assured about the orchard,” Bren said. “One has just read part of your nephew’s account, and he claims to have planted new trees in the west of the orchard.”
“Gods know what he planted,” Geigi said with a deep sigh. “But that does offer some hope. And my boat. I hope it has survived intact.”
“When last my staff was there, it was riding securely at anchor, and they handed matters directly to the aiji’s men. One hopes they have checked it out.”
“Baji-naji,” Geigi said. “One hopes so, too.”
Bump. Even the modern bus springs had trouble with that one.
The road had seen a bit more traffic since their last visit— the Najida truck traveling back and forth had actually worn down the grassy track here and there. The bumps, however, were little improved.
But when they came to the turn off toward Kajiminda estate, and when they had reached the gates, the view of the harbor showed Lord Geigi’s yacht riding serene and safe on the dark water. That heartened Geigi no end, enough to lift his spirits even in the face of conditions inside the estate grounds: the neglect of paint and edgings about the walls, the sad state of the gates, hanging crooked on their hinges, and notably the portico being completely missing—except two and a half pillars with the beginnings of a timber frame between two of them.
“Najida is doing a grand job, Bren-ji,” Geigi said. “You are a most excellent neighbor.”
“One will relay the compliment to Najida village,” Bren said, himself heartened to see what progress the carpenters had made. The estate at least had the look of a place being improved, not a place in complete ruin: they had done that much for Lord Geigi.
A small dark van was parked on the circular drive, just beyond the building. Two men in Guild black came out of the house to meet the bus as it pulled up to the side of the construction zone. Banichi and Jago, along with Geigi’s men, got off the bus to meet them—Tabini’s forces, Bren said to himself, watching the handoff of keys and a small booklet. The book contained, one suspected, codewords or perhaps technical specs on equipment that might have been installed for the estate’s protection.
There was a solemn exchange of formalities, Banichi bowed, the leader of Tabini’s lot did, and then they headed off for the van and Banichi gave a small hand signal toward the bus.
“We may go, nandiin,” Tano said, standing up behind Bren’s seat. Bren got up, Geigi did, and the rest of the company took it for a signal, waiting, however, for them.
Down the steps, then, Bren descending very cautiously behind Lord Geigi. The last thing they needed was a bad omen like falling down the bus steps on an arrival like this, and he was more than a little on edge descending to the cobbles, mentally hearing the gunshots and the crash that had accompanied the fall of the former portico, unconsciously scanning the peripheries of the drive and building for any threat.
He didn’t waste time getting to the side of the building, which afforded major protection. Geigi stared about him a moment: it was his first time home in a very long time, and he was clearly trying to catch a view of his orchard, off behind the wall to the left—but Geigi’s bodyguard moved him very quickly to the open front door and on into the house. Bren followed, and Jago and Banichi stayed close as they entered the front hall. Tano and Algini went on past them, past Geigi and his guard, back into the further recesses of the house, evidently on a program of their own, and probably having consulted with Geigi’s men.
Geigi’s stationside major domo, Barati, came to him, bowed, and asked, with brimming excitement in his old eyes, whether the lord would care to take tea in the sitting room.
“Yes, Bara-ji,” Geigi said warmly, and then to Bren: “Will you join me, Bren-ji?”
Staff, for one thing, wanted the lords contained, amused and out of trouble for the hour. One couldn’t blame them for that. “Delighted,” Bren said, and went with Geigi to the sitting room he had lately occupied with Baiji. There they settled down, while the house quietly resounded with footsteps. Banichi and Jago stayed outside, and would be very busy right along with Geigi’s guard and Geigi’s four station staff, checking things out in the transition from Tabini’s men.