“As is Lord Tatiseigi, nandi, as is the aiji-dowager.”
“That she will is no news. But Lord Tatiseigi—”
“He stands with the aiji-dowager.”
“One imagines there might be agreement,” the second said dryly. And the first:
“What of the removal of Lord Kadagidi? One would hesitate to believe the rumor, that this attack was arranged by the Liberals, and that this concession is the price of the tribal bill.”
“One would call that removal not a concession, but a correction long overdue, nandi,” he said firmly, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. “One vital to the security of the aishidi’tat. Lord Aseida, nandiin, was not ignorant of circumstances behind the coup. The Guild will be investigating.”
“Indeed, nandi!”
He knew these two. He knew their tactics . . . the two worst gossips in the midlands. “There will be abundant proof of the entire exchange at Asien’dalun, nandi. The aiji is in possession of evidence, and I shall be pleased to show you and anyone else who asks all the proof they could wish, both of what happened and what almost happened, which is far worse; it involves the arrest of several hidden agents. You are unaware, no doubt, that Lord Aseida in recent days threatened the aiji-dowager, the young gentleman and his guests. Lord Aseida claims ignorance of the plot, but the intention behind it was clearly to harm the administration.”
“That can be proven, nand’ paidhi?”
“To the satisfaction of any who wish to see the photographic evidence. Minor children, nandiin. Foreigners who, as guests, have now witnessed an illegal act on the part of a lord of the aishidi’tat. This was assuredly not the way the young gentleman hoped to impress his guests.”
“So the young gentleman was not at Malguri,” a newcomer observed.
“No. He was not. He was at no time at Malguri. For security reasons, he was a guest of his great-uncle at Tirnamardi.” Again he lowered his voice, so the second lord had to lean forward to hear. “The Kadagidi lord’s own bodyguard received orders from a remnant of the Murini faction to help Assassins from the south eliminate Lord Tatiseigi. Possibly they neglected to tell their lord about their illegal actions, or the purpose of southern Guild arriving in the household. There is a little doubt. That is why Lord Aseida will likely be asked to resign the lordship. As the aiji inquires more deeply, there may be more evidence tying Lord Aseida himself to some of these decisions—and he would be very wise to take that offer while it is available, especially since this all unfolded to the annoyance of the aiji-dowager, whose patience is very short, and whose influence is considerable. The Guild will be going through papers recovered from Lord Aseida’s own office.”
“Indeed,” that lord said quietly. And that ended that line of questioning.
“One regrets,” Banichi said with a deep sigh, “that that problem reached you.”
“We are neither one as agile as we might be. How are you faring, Nichi-ji?”
“Not too badly,” Banichi said.
The doors were all open, now, and some attendees had found their way back out into the cool hallway. Lord Tatiseigi had passed out all the cards, and joined Ilisidi in a walk about the cases, Lord Tatiseigi personally commenting on his treasures to a number of interested attendees. Tabini, Damiri, and Cajeiri were still conversing with elderly guests, while Jase and the youngsters were off in a side hall, with the Reverence Statues.
It was almost time. Tabini was, at the moment, a bit apart from Damiri, who was listening to an older woman who was casting disapproving glances back at Cajeiri’s guests—who were doing absolutely nothing amiss at the moment. Cajeiri was not frowning—Cajeiri was too well-brought-up for that; but Cajeiri’s shoulders were stiff and his hands were mangling a program sheet behind him.
Tabini cast one of those glances that was as good as a summons.
Bren moved closer, gave a little bow. “My wife,” Tabini said in a low voice, “is pursuing her own course this evening, pressing her own notions of the Kadagidi succession. She will not have her way.”
Damiri trying to interfere in politics could not please Tatiseigi. And had he heard right? What had Damiri to do with the Kadagidi succession? The Ajuri one made perfect sense. But had she notions about both?
“I have advised my grandmother not to vex my wife on this occasion,” Tabini said curtly. “Stay with the family. Please attend my grandmother in the assembly, and assist Lord Tatiseigi to keep those two apart.”
“Yes,” he said, wondering how, precisely, he was going to do that.
A soft horn sounded, out in the hall, a strange rising and falling note, audible from the open doors. The kabiuteri had cleared and opened the ceremonial hall, and the premises were arranged for the start of the evening. The Audience Hall was opening: non-participant guests and the public—of which there were none, this evening—were to take their place behind either of two red satin ropes in the main hall.
The red ropes ordinarily marshaled the attendees into a small stream entering an event. In this case, it would let the aiji and his guests enter the premises through the central door of the five, walk along a clear aisle between the ropes, and take their places in the Audience Hall ahead of the crowd. One had not planned to be in that elite group—one had planned to join Jase and the youngsters and reunite his aishid.
Tabini, Damiri and Cajeiri passed him at a sedate pace, with their bodyguards; Ilisidi and Lord Tatiseigi followed, with theirs; and Bren dutifully fell in after, with Banichi and Jago, leaving Tano and Algini to assist Jase getting into the hall.
His job was, he gathered, to engage the aiji-dowager and keep her apart from Damiri; and possibly to try to divert Damiri, if it came to that.
Four of the museum’s doors were open, and people were exiting, a brisk movement into the two areas roped off. The central door remained shut until Tabini’s approach, at which point it opened, affording the family that easy crossing past the observing crowd toward the center door of the Audience Hall.
All but one of its doors were shut. The centermost, between the ropes, was open, welcoming the family into what, compared to the hall, was lamplit darkness.
They reached the doorway, their eyes just beginning to adjust—and suddenly a bank of lights blazed at them, painting them all in white glare, as much as one could see at the moment.
Television cameras. The lights were near the dais, cameras focused, at the moment, toward the open doors and the incoming notables. They blinded security: that was a problem. But Kaplan and Polano were somewhere in this room, and after the initial rush of adrenaline, Bren reassured himself with that thought.
They were safer than usual in the Audience Halclass="underline" they had not the general public, just the museum event attendees lined up at the red ropes outside, and they went at a sedate pace, with knots of Guild black separating the glitter of the notables, and there was a gracious atmosphere about their progress, nods from the family—excepting Damiri, who walked in her own world—to the family’s particular supporters and associates the other side of the rope.
There was a buffet set up—the smells were in the air; there was Bujavid staff, shadows over on the right. There was a long table, likely for the cards.
There was, at the end of the room, the dais, and the chair Tabini used for audiences in this room. The cameras were set up right at the corner of those steps.