“We have told her so,” his father said. “And I have agreed your sister and you will take separate paths. Your sister will notbe turned over to your great-grandmother. She will be completely in your mother’s charge, so do not campaign for her to go to your great-grandmother.”
“If you will defend your little sister,” his mother said, “we would be grateful. And we hope you will not instruct her in how to slip past security until she is at least felicitous thirteen.”
His face went hot, but he knew when he was subtly being reprimanded, and laughed at, however gently.
“Yes,” he said. And could not help adding: “But she will be my sister, honored Mother, and one is quite sure she will be clever. Just I shall always be ahead of her.”
His mother smiled gently. “Then be sure to keep ahead of her, son of mine. And keep her safe.”
“You have not had supper, have you?” his father asked, gently.
“No,” he said. “Nor my staff.”
“Nor your mother nor I. Come.” His father stood up.
And his mother held out her hand, as if he had been a tiny child. He took it the way he took mani’s when she dispensed with her cane, and wrapped his arm around hers, with her hand atop.
So his father muttered to Jaidiri that they should have supper and let everyone out of his son’s apartment.
And nobody had ordered Boji sent back to the market or told him he could not have his birthday party.
And he did not have to have dinner with Grandfather. It was mean and selfish to feel happy about that, but he honestly, truly did.
20
There came a commotion of another group entering, and a little whisper of feminine voices attended. Bren did not even need to turn his head to know whose party had entered the room, to such universal interest from the ladies.
He went immediately toward the entry to meet Lord Machigi, who was there with only his bodyguard—Tema’s crew, with light arms, was immediately about him, and a second team, like an outer shell of dark planets, was positioning themselves starting at the door.
“Nandi,” Bren said, and bowed, and Machigi met him with a bow—another man might have worn a grim face and a wary look at walking in among former enemies, but Machigi wore charm like a garment—his face was relaxed, his bearing easy, and he had the look and grace of a lord in his own element.
“Paidhi,” he said. “A pleasure. Lord Geigi.” Two old enemies met with gracious nods. “You do me honor, nandi, even though one is certain it is for the aiji-dowager’s sake.”
“I hope to accumulate reason to do it for your own, nandi,” Lord Geigi said. “Let us hope for the future.”
“Indeed.” With a gracious nod, Machigi moved on toward the tables. Bren stayed with him, the massed dark knot of their security carving a passage through the crowded hall. There was old-fashioned lamplight, the glitter of the world’s treasures in jewelry, and, where figures grew more shadowy around the perimeter, the reflecting gold of atevi eyes, like so many more jewels in the dark. Every eye was on Machigi, every ateva present reckoning and measuring every move he made, his attitudes, his state of mind—his honesty. And every ateva present knew what the paidhi-aiji’s role had been in getting him here, and what his role was now, welcoming the lord of the Taisigi, providing small talk, marking time until the aiji-dowager herself might come downstairs and make her entry. Everything now was a dance, a precise order of moves that had to be made, a sequence that had to be followed, and with which everybody present would settle their minds, knowing exactly what came next.
Next—seemed like forever. “Did you have a smooth trip, nandi?” had to be asked, and Machigi was gracious enough not to say simply, “Yes,” and make his substitute host fish for another question. He said, “Quite smooth, but you are quite right about the airport road, nandi—badly in need of repair.”
“Najida would be pleased to meet your crews halfway, nandi. Our crews are, however, Edi folk.”
“We shall have some understandings to create,” Machigi said. “Guild in the area would reassure my people.”
“And the Edi are increasingly inclined to view their presence favorably,” Bren said. “I would have members of my house staff to supervise any area of contact, if that would suffice.”
“A very good notion, nand’ paidhi.”
“And your comfort in Najida?”
“Splendid. Quarters in the Bujavid could not be as comfortable.”
“Or as secure, one hopes. If you have any concerns at all—”
“Nandiin,” Banichi said, “the aiji-dowager has reached the lower hall.”
Machigi simply nodded and glanced toward the door.
Guild was clearing the crowd back. That usually produced a little subdued commotion.
Banichi said: “There is a situation. “Lord Komaji has shown up, from the public entry, demanding admission. Guild will admit him and sequester him, physically, not to delay the dowager.”
Komaji. Lord Ajuri. Damiri’s father. From the publicentrance?
Bren’s heart rate ticked up a notch.
“The aiji has withdrawn the supper invitation,” Jago said, as Banichi’s attention focused tightly on the door. “Geigi-ji, will you go to the doorway, immediately, with your guard? Divert Lord Ajuri.”
“Yes,” Geigi said, and moved.
“We have an incident,” Machigi said. It was a question.
“Stand fast, nandi,” Bren said, “one begs you. You will not go near that trouble. A domestic matter—a missed message, perhaps. The lord of Ajuri thought he had a dinner engagement with his daughter and grandson in the aiji’s apartment. He has entered by the public entrance.”
That part was wrong. Very wrong. And wrong behaviorin the Bujavid translated immediately to suspect.
“Relay to Cenedi, Jago-ji.”
“Cenedi is aware of it. The aiji-dowager does not wish to be delayed.”
Ilisidi and Komaji didn’t get along. Increasingly, considering the aiji-dowager’s affiliation with Tatiseigi and her taking Cajeiri into her orbit, they did not get along.
“Inform Lord Komaji’s bodyguard that the aiji is not present at this event,” Bren said quickly, thinking that if Ajuri were completely distraught, he might be coming into the Bujavid with the intent to seek out Tabini-aiji—and a major event downstairs was one place Tabini might be suspected to be in attendance. “Inform Jaidiri.” That was Tabini’s bodyguard. “And the door guards.”
“Yes,” Algini said.
But then a voice rose above the rest: “We are not among the invitees here, either? This is remarkable,nadi!”
“One hasto meet him,” Bren said, and went, regardless of his bodyguard’s expressed opinion. He had to. Until the dowager arrived, and before the two could encounter unaware, hewas in charge. Lord Machigi was under hisprotection, and Machigi’s bodyguard had every reason to be on a hair trigger. He headed for the door at his fastest walk, with his bodyguard around him, Lord Geigi left where he had stood, and doubtless both bodyguards in rapid communication, with Geigi’s bodyguard, with Machigi’s, with the door guards, and with Cenedi.
Komaji. Lord of Ajuri. Cajeiri’s grandfather had made it through the polite line of servants at the door; he was not making it through the line of Bujavid guards. And Cenedi, one hoped, had stalled the dowager inside the hall with the lifts, which was virtually clear, and not let her get delayed in the crowded main hallway.
“Lord Komaji,” Bren said with a bow, and to the Bujavid guards: “Please let him through, with his guard. I shall take responsibility.”
“Nandi,” the senior of that guard said, and signaled his unit to stand aside.
“Where is the aiji?” Komaji asked abruptly.