Breakfast—breakfast might become luncheon, perhaps one of the dowager’s luncheons, but at least in a dining room, not out on the freezing balcony, with the current chance of snipersc He came out of the bath to dress, at no point seeing one of his own security staff, and hoping that they had taken to bed themselves. Security present at the door was a pair of Ilisidi’s young men, in whom he had the greatest confidence, and the domestic staff absolutely insisted he have more tea and a couple of delicately fruit-flavored cakes, the paidhi having missed breakfast.
A third?
“The paidhi is quite full,” he assured the young lady who offered the dish. “These are quite large cakes, on the paidhi’s scale of things.”
“Indeed, forgive the forwardness, nandi.”
“Indeed, nadi, there is no point on which to fault anything. The hospitality is flawless.”
“Nandi.” A deep bow, and every sign of astonishment and pleasure: One had to wonder how often the staff heard the word flawless from the aiji-dowager; and one, again, had to remember whose household this was.
But he sat dressed, finally, rested, if sore, warm and full of sweets, and simply enjoying the play of live fire in the grate, that very earthly pleasure, when a servant brought in a silver bowl with a message cylinder.
The Lord of the Heavens’ chief clerk, it said, begs to offer respects and esteem on the occasion of the lord’s safe return to Shejidan, and hopes that his services will again be required. The staff has preserved papers, correspondence, and records in various places of safety and is prepared to return to duty immediately at the lord’s request, beginning with the acquisition of our old offices and equipment within the Bu-javid, if this can be accomplished, with the lord’s authority. One will assure the lord of the unfaltering man’chi of the entire staff, without exception.
God. The records, the correspondence, the mountains of paper, the translations of manuals and technical specifications, all kept safe?
And the staff, all loyal, with all that had gone on? Amazement was the first reaction—never doubt of the majority of the staff, but all of them?
And ready to return to work before the smoke had even cleared?
He was deeply, deeply touched.
“Did this come by messenger, nadi?” he asked the servant, who stood waiting for an answer.
“One believes this to be the case, nandi.”
“Paper and a cylinder, if possible, nadi, for a reply. My own kit is on the station.”
The requested items arrived. He sat down. He wrote: The paidhi-aiji is profoundly grateful for the devotion of the staff and of the chief clerk in particular. One can offer no assurances of proper quarters at this hour, but if you will provide a means and address for reliable contact, the paidhi will place this matter among his highest priorities. One leaves all other details of timely summoning and fit lodging of staff to your capable management— Dared one assume the paidhi would even survive in office the next few days?
Or survive at all, for that matter?
—and urges you closely observe current events for the safety of yourself and the staff, with profound appreciation for your honesty and service.
He dispatched the letter, trusting staff would be able to find the gentleman who had delivered the note. He wished he could rush out to the halls, embrace the old man, assure him of his job, all those humanly satisfying things—but in the very moment of thinking of it, he heard the distant pop of gunfire, and paused a moment, asking himself how safe the Bu-javid was, or who might just have been shot.
Guild business? Mop-up?
He was far from confident, and had no wish to make the elderly gentleman more of a target than he had been, by bringing civilian staff prematurely into the building.
Besides, the answering of general correspondence, which that staff handled, had to take a back seat to more urgent business, such as finding a place to live that did not impose his presence on the dowager’s generosity, such as getting some indirect word to Mospheira, to let Toby know he was alive and to let Shawn know Tabini was back in power. Banichi was quite right: Pursuing contact across the straits was a potential for trouble, something he dared not have misinterpreted or noised about as evidence of his reattachment to human interests.
The presentation to the hasdrawad and the tashrid came before everythingc granted that Tabini really meant to let him speak freely.
Most of all—he had simply to stay alive for the nonce, and keep his head down, and not take walks in the hall, even escorted, until the dust settled.
He settled down to a little rest after the late breakfast, a little quiet time with his notes, a little time for his long-suffering staff to go on sleeping, if only they would do that. What had been a very small staff in the dowager’s employ would, he hoped, begin to accrete old members of their own, filling out the numbers, but by the time they increased to any degree at all, he had to settle the apartment problem. He did think perhaps he should send a personal note to Madam Saidin, who had served him very kindly, and who now was back in the service of the Atageini. He might send flowers to her and the staff there, perhaps, if he had any funds at his disposal, though accessing such funds was usually a staff jobc and staff was what he lackedc and then there was the matter of kabiu, in choosing what to sendc Everything ran in a circle, and right back to the necessity of finding quarters somewhere in the Bu-javid, this ancient building wherein apartments were inherited over centuries, and where the contents of said apartments tended to resemble cultural museums, priceless art and antiques, each carefully arranged according to the numerical rules of kabiu, adjusted to the presence of a particular family. The Atageini had afforded him the old apartment, since Tatiseigi had been in the country and Lady Damiri, who had been using it, had moved in with Tabini. One might say the Kadagidi residence within the Bu-javid might be up for a new occupant, and very likely Murini had governed from those premises rather than set up in Tabini’s apartment—but it would hardly be appropriate for a court official to set up there against the will of the Kadagidi.
Murini might be a fugitive and his demise foreordained, but the Kadagidi themselves were an ancient clan, and to insult them would only slow the process of peacemaking and create a problem.
No, the Kadagidi would be back, once man’chi had been settled.
They would claim their valuables and their treasures, and their premises and precedences within the network of residencies, and to imply anything else would create a problem of lasting resentments, a cause that simply would not be allowed to rest.
So, well, he might find himself lodging down in the garden apartments againc opposite the aiji’s cook, without a staff, as he had started. In a certain measure he wished he could take that option, go back to his pleasant little ground-floor rooms, in which he had availed himself of general services, rather than having a personal staff: But that was not the case, now—he had managed to lodge Banichi and Jago in those early days, but his life was far more complex, and his duties had gotten to be such that he hardly knew how to proceed about anything without extended staff, with specialists among them. He had staff up on the station who might well come down from his apartment there once the shuttles were flying again—granted that Tatiseigi would surely reclaim Bindanda’s services. He would very much regret that, not alone because the man was an excellent cook, a good tailor, and a very clever observer; but there was Narani, that worthy old gentleman, and the others—and if they did get the shuttle fleet flying, that was certainly a staff long due a chance for blue sky and a little rest.