A light breakfast. That would suit. He felt himself incapable of anything elaborate.
And when it was done, Bren simply took the envelope from his pocket and slid it quietly across the little table.
“Do you know the contents of this document?” Tabini asked him bluntly.
“No, aiji-ma, I do not. Cenedi passed it to my bodyguard under seal.”
“And the tenor of the meeting last night, paidhi-ji?”
“Have you—have you spoken with your son, aiji-ma?”
“I have not spoken to my son yet, no. Nor will I, on this matter.”
“He requested to stay for the after-dinner sitting, aiji-ma. During that session he did state that you supported his great-grandmother.”
“Go on.”
“The statement was timely and appropriate in context, it was taken well by his great-uncle and by Lord Geigi, and it had a favorable impact on the discussion, aiji-ma. His tone was respectful.”
Tabini regarded him at length with those cold, pale eyes. “My son often takes a great deal on himself.”
Dismaying. “It had, at least, a moderating effect on his great-uncle, aiji-ma.”’
“He has, for his age, a precocious self-confidence. It used to impel him into the servant passages. Now it impels him into delicate negotiations.”
“Aiji-ma. One apologizes.”
“One is certain you have no need, paidi-ji. His great-grandmother allowed him into the room.”
“Yet, aiji-ma, after that statement, Lord Tatiseigi and Lord Geigi were able to resolve their disagreements. They both agree to support your grandmother’s proposal.”
“Do they?” Tabini said flatly. “And now Cenedi sends us this document. Do you know the content of it?”
One could not swear the bedroom was not bugged. “Aiji-ma. I received a copy of the agreement. One expects that to be there. One knows the Guild is concerned about these matters and active in the south. One rather suspects the message is the Guild’s, routed through Cenedi, but one only guesses as to that.”
“And the shape of this agreement of association? Is it still what we were presented?”
“To a cursory reading it has not changed, aiji-ma. Trade between the Taisigin Marid and the Eastern ports. A side agreement with the Edi and the Gan, who have agreed to stop certain activities if admitted to the aishidi’tat. The dowager has also, one understands, negotiated with her immediate neighbors and with town officials on the coast—”
“The disturbance now reaches to the East,” Tabini said. “A consortium of ten minor lords who, backing her trade agreement, are now signatory to a development on the East Coast withGuild participation. She was verybusy at Baiji’s wedding.”
Bren drew in a slow, careful breath. There was still that envelope, unopened, on the table between them. And if Tabini’s agents had reported all the goings-on in the East—that still left the business with the Marid.
“I should perhaps take my leave at this point, aiji-ma.”
“Do not,” Tabini said sharply, and took up the envelope and opened it. Bren sat still, watching the pages in Tabini’s hands. The missive bore no visible crest. It had multiple pages, no surprise; it was fine printed, not handwritten, no surprise, either. Its size and nature were characteristic of messages that arrived in envelopes—reports, generally, not personal letters. This one was extensive, more than five pages.
Tabini finished it. Flipped back a page, reread, then threw the document onto the table and got up and walked across the little room to his Taibeni bodyguard, exchanged a look with his aishid-senior, and then looked across the room at Banichi and Jago.
Damn, Bren thought. Not good news. Not at all good news in that envelope.
It was a moment before Tabini returned to stand at the table. He gathered up the document, folded it, put it into its envelope, and slipped it into his own inner pocket. “Tea,” he said, and his senior bodyguard moved to the sideboard to make a new pot, no servants involved.
Whatever it was, one was obliged to wait for Tabini to speak. Tabini sat down and waited, and the senior bodyguard, Jaidiri, quietly poured the light tea.
They drank. They said absolutely nothing; and Bren’s brain raced with anxiety and spun on noinformation, while Tabini clearly had far too much information at the moment and was trying to sort it.
Tabini finished his tea with a last, large swallow and set his cup aside. Bren didn’t try to empty his cup, just set it down.
Tabini said, quietly, “My grandmother has gone to war with the Ajuri. Figuratively.”
Lady Damiri’s father. Dursai Province.
He had absolutely no business commenting on a family matter. He had no nerves to warn him of the flow of man’chi or the lack of it. But Tabini looked at him, awaiting a reply.
“One hardly knows what to say, aiji-ma.”
“This, for once, is not regarding my son’s actions. Cenedi went to the East with my grandmother. One of his staff did not. You and your bodyguard, paidhi, are about to hear things which must notcome to my son.”
“Aiji-ma. One will respect the sensitivity of it. So will my bodyguard.”
“I am sure your bodyguard, and Cenedi, will do whatever their man’chi compels them to do. And your bodyguard and mine need to know. There is an old rivalry regarding my son.”
“One understands.”
Tabini drew a deep breath. “You should understand more. Ajuri and the Atageini were allies—a hundred years ago, going up to my father’s time. That association ended finally when Tatiseigi, as clan head, did not at first approve the contract marriage that united his niece with Ajuri clan. That, however, is an old issue, and over time, Lord Tatiseigi warmed to their child Damiri as his grandniece. When we married her, of course, his opinion changed vastly, and she became his favorite niece. So for a time after our marriage, Ajuri and the Atageini were quite—socially close. But this harmony was doomed. The old reasons which had held the clans together had changed over time. When our son was born, it became a war for his upbringing, Atageini on one side, Ajuri on the other. And in the intensity of it all, Damiri had a falling-out with her father. She was then for a time in great favor with Lord Tatiseigi, a period which falls within your tenure.”
“One recalls the situation, yes, aiji-ma.”
“Then—we began the space program. We had its controversy. The entire aishidi’tat entered a period of upheaval that made it increasingly dangerous to have my son in close company with us at public functions. My grandmother’s conservatism is unquestioned. Tatiseigi’s is. Placing my son in her care quieted the conservatives, pleased Tatiseigi, and gave us time we greatly needed to politick our way through the unrest. That maneuver is also within your memory.”
“It is, aiji-ma.”
“Sending Cajeiri to the Atageini, however, infuriated the Ajuri. You may imagine. So. Let us leap to last night. In a very quick turn, the Atageini lord has suddenly agreed with you and made his peace with my grandmother’s move to settle the Marid. Why would he do that? Several reasons occur to me—not all of them the gracious presence of my grandmother or his fondness for your gift. First, my son has made childish but astonishingly firm regional alliances which, to a wise man like Tatiseigi, may suggest a different constellation of regional power in the future than has ever existed, one in which he can be of great influence. Second, the Ajuri have bent every effort toward reconciliation with Damiri and have insisted on providing staff. Her cousins and aunts have made much over the birth to come. So has her father—who has newly acceded to the lordship and now steers things.”
“Aiji-ma.”
“Note, paidhi-ji, that Ajuri andthe Atageini survived the Troubles, intact. The Atageini survived because Lord Tatiseigi is politically important, as head of the conservatives—and because his house is such a sieve for secrets no one ever took him seriously as a threat to Murini. Assassinating Tatiseigi would have roused a stir in Murini’s own conservative backing, which he did not want—at that time.