“Nandi.” A touch came at Cajeiri’s shoulder, and he waked, not that he had been fully asleep—he hoped not—but his young aishid protected him from embarrassment: he had, he feared, drowsed just a little. Uncle had had a brandy, and so had Mother, and nobody had said anything, surely. Gods, he hoped he had not been noticed. Guild and staff were awake. Well, except one young servant, who sat on a bench in the alcove, his head against the wall.
“The bus,” he said.
“Nearly here,” Veijico said quietly. “Janachi and Onami have just gone down to check, but house Guild is already out at the gate, and Taibeni and the two trucks with the Diegi Guild are moving with the bus. About a quarter of an hour. Our teammates’ parents are traveling on the bus. That is what we know.”
So Antaro and Jegari’s parents were here, among the Taibeni, and they had ridden out to assist. He had suggested before that Antaro and Jegari introduce them personally to Uncle, but the Taibeni, though they had ended the state of war with Atageini and repeatedly assisted Uncle, kept their distance, officially; and being kin of the Taibeni lord, everything they did was political.
He still hoped they would come in to be introduced to Uncle this time. There was so much going on in the region. But he was glad enough that he could look forward to getting his aishid back together again and the lot of them upstairs—to sleep late: he hoped so, granted only Uncle declared a late breakfast.
It was all good news now . . .
Except—
Guild reacted, all about the area.
“Find out,” he said, and Lucasi, against protocols, ran for the stairs, nobody senior protesting.
“The gates will be opening,” Uncle said. “If our neighbors dare that, they will have an unpleasant surprise.”
No information. The Guild changed the codes. But there was too much in Shadow Guild hands, and with the infiltration, they took nothing for granted but faces they knew, and judgment they trusted. He understood that. But it was maddening, the cautions, the need for them, the utter stupidity of rebel Guild fighting for a handful of dead people . . . Or maybe not dead people.
Great-aunt Geidaro? She was not pretending stupidity. Her whole course of action was stupid.
But she scared people. She scared them with threats.
But what she had that could scare the Shadow Guild, that the regular Guild wanted to get their hands on—
Was records. Just pieces of paper.
“The gates are opening,” one of Uncle’s guards said. “There is gunfire in the Taibeni camp, but they are opening the gates to get the bus in, nandi.”
Lucasi came flying back up the stairs, and Janachi and Onami were behind him, bringing rifles in hand.
Something blew up in the distance. Cajeiri sprang from his chair, remembered he was forbidden to run, but he crossed the sitting area to the diamond-paned windows at a run all the same—it was impossible to see the gates, but he could see an orange-tinted cloud. “There was an explosion,” he said. “There is a cloud where the Taibeni camp is.”
“The bus is moving,” Janachi said. “There has been a separate assault on the Taibeni camp. Those in camp indicate they are safe. The bus convoy is holding back until this resolves itself. Those inside the grounds are observing, ready to defend should the gates have difficulty closing.”
“Those gates,” Uncle said angrily, “are a thousand years old, and we are not anxious to see them damaged by that damnable woman!”
The fire-stained smoke was diminishing. There was a glow that might be headlights.
“We have them,” Onami said.
“Well!” Uncle said. “And do we have the bus?”
“We do, nandi, and those inside will open the gate. The attackers on the camp have fled, leaving a number of them in our hands.”
“Is it over?” Mother asked.
“It may be, daja-ma,” Onami said. “The gates are opening. The convoy will come in. The Taibeni escort will come in with them. The Taibeni camp is reporting—” A strange amusement came over Onami’s face. “They say the attack did not expect the camp to be occupied. The explosion was to take out the gates. As it was—it did not get there.”
“Mecheiti with war-caps,” Janachi said, “were very persuasive. The intruders into the camp surrendered on the spot when they saw themselves surrounded by riders, and begged to be let go. That has not happened.”
A servant arrived in haste, quietly, but urgent—with a phone in hand, with a large coil of cord. “Nandi. Nandiin. Geidaro-daja asks to speak to you. She begs to speak to you. She is under attack.”
Mother’s face was grim. Uncle’s was set in stone. The servant waited. Then: “I shall hear her,” Uncle said. “But what she says had better be quick and to the point.” He reached out his hand for the phone, and servants hastened to plug it in and convey the receiver to Uncle.
“Turn up the volume,” Uncle said. “There are two more who should hear this outrageous woman. This time, we shall have witnesses.”
Staff complied, turning up the dial on the phone body.
“Geidaro-nandi,” Uncle said, fully polite, and beside him it was quite clear that Rusani, his Guild-senior, was recording the conversation.
“Tatiseigi! Call them off!”
Uncle looked at Rusani, who dropped his official face to give a little no signal.
“Have you a problem, neighbor? We seem to have a commotion on the road, which involves the bus which transported the aiji-consort, which happens to belong to the paidhi-aiji. Shots have been fired.”
“There are Guild in the house!” Geidaro shouted, interrupting. “Call them off, call them off now!”
“You have your own aishid,” Uncle said. “They can perfectly properly enter dialogue—”
“I cannot reach them! Tatiseigi, call these people! Call them back! I am willing to negotiate!”
Rusani said, quietly, “Guild has not yet moved in that area, nandi.”
Uncle said, bringing the handset again somewhat nearer. “Geidaro, are you certain they are in the house? My aishid has no word of an action.”
“Oh, gods!” Great-aunt said. There was a loud thump and wood splintering, like a door giving way. “Get out! You have no right! You have no right—”
Gunfire then. And a shriek. And glass breaking.
Uncle looked taken aback. “Geidaro?” he asked.
There was no answer. But the connection stopped. Dead.
Uncle said, “Well, that was highly unpleasant.” And handed the phone back to Rusani.
Cajeiri looked at his mother’s stunned face, and at Uncle’s somber one, and needed to know for certain what he had just heard. “Do you think she is dead, Uncle?”
“If she is not, she is in worse case. Someone she took for Guild, but not taking orders from Guild Headquarters? We should move regular Guild over to Ajiden as soon as possible, Rusi-ji, or we shall lose those records.”
“Surely,” Mother said, “she had the sense not to keep them in her desk.”
“Probably they are too extensive for her desk or her office. This has involved decades. Ajiden has understructure as extensive as Tirnamardi’s. Finding everything may take the intruders time.”
“The ones attacking us tonight,” Cajeiri said. “Are they Shadow Guild?”
“My guess is not,” Uncle said. “I doubt the Shadow Guild will commit numbers to the field, particularly in the north. They maintain their little cell in the south, in the Dojisigin Marid, but that remnant is not ready to take the field, even in the Marid. Geidaro has watched Shishogi go down: her own power is slipping, and the next lord of Ajuri is on the horizon, at which point her power ends and the real Guild enters the house with a great interest in records that may be in all those cellars. I suspect the Shadow Guild has moved in to preclude that event. They may have urged Geidaro to throw everything she can at us, promising her th
eir support, simply to keep us at bay—and if Geidaro is not dead, at this point, they will be asking her where those records are. This is my guess. Attractive as it may have been to them to strike at the heir or the aiji-consort, or even my lesser-ranking but provocative self—their greatest vulnerability is those records in the hands of a woman losing power with every tick of the clock. Will they rescue her along with those records? I do not think they will want the notoriety. She is not a faceless presence. I think we shall find her dead. We shall be lucky if we do not find Ajiden in flames. Baji-naji.—Rusi-ji, I trust we are now moving aggressively on the situation.”
Rusani nodded once and solemnly. Cajeiri’s own aishid said nothing; and there was a solemn chill in the air. “Go,” Uncle said, and Rusani headed off, with one of that aishid, down the stairs.
“So—these people who attacked us?” Mother asked.
“Geidaro’s,” Uncle said. “Very likely Geidaro’s, whatever force Ajiden and the townships can muster. Her ambitions have been consistently against us. I think the Shadow Guild will count itself lucky to get in and get out. But that operation is not in our hands.”
“The gate is open, nandiin,” Janachi said. “The bus is coming in. With the trucks from Diegi and a number of the Taibeni.”
Uncle did not react for a moment. Then he nodded.
“What is the situation with the convoy?” he asked. “Where do we stand? Do we have information flow back?”
“There are prisoners, nandi,” Janachi said, “taken at the bridge.”
“With the trucks?”
“Yes,” Janachi said. “They are following the bus.”
“Let us get our own back into the house,” Uncle said. “Then deal with our problems. Rusani will be contacting operations in the field. Things out there will move, but they will refer to Shejidan, and we shall not advise our Ajuri guests until there is some outcome. They have enough distress in their laps. Our people, meanwhile, are our concern. We have contact again, and I am encouraged we have not heard anything about injuries to our people.”
Antaro and Jegari, Cajeiri thought.
If Taibeni were escorting the bus, not only their mother and father were among them, but uncles, aunts, and cousins. Cajeiri wanted so badly to rush downstairs and meet the bus at the front steps, but that was not going to happen, given the situation.
“We shall go down,” Mother said, as if she could read his mind, “at least as far as the foyer. We shall meet them there. Uncle, stay here. Let us in your stead. Please.”
Uncle’s will to go down was strong. But Mother had offered a great courtesy, and Uncle gave a grudging sigh. “One will be in your debt for it. Thank you, niece.”
We, Mother said, which truly, in Mother’s case, meant more than one person. She said it for him. “I shall go,” he said quietly to his aishid, including Veijico and Lucasi. “We shall go. Probably our people are all right. But we will not be content until we know.” He rose from his chair, gave a considerate little half-bow to Uncle, and joined Mother on the way, listening hard for the bus, and he thought he heard it, or the trucks, in the far distance. It might be imagination: he wanted it that much. But it grew stronger, after pausing for a moment, on such a still night.
They were indeed inside, on the grounds.
They went down the steps to the foyer, with Mother’s guard and his. Onami made a quick run down to the security station in the lower hall, advising Rieni of their presence and intentions, and came back up at a run, with the sound of engines now definite in the distance.
“Antaro and Jegari are all right,” Onami said. “So are all the people on the bus. They are traveling with Guild as well as their escort. The trucks have something over thirty prisoners taken at the bridge and in the camp, but the trucks will hold back while the bus unloads. Stay on this level, nandiin, please. Your security asks, to prevent distraction in the situation, or delay in getting everyone inside.”
“Definitely,” Mother said, and in a few moments, probably as the convoy topped the little rise to the level of the house, the sound of the bus and the trucks became much clearer.
Cajeiri found himself shivering a little, which he told himself was the hour and scant supper, and not fear at all.
The bus braked, sighed, at the steps beyond, where Guild waited. There was a little delay. Then the doors of Tirnamardi opened to let the passengers all come in. First of all was Antaro, with Jegari, with Uncle’s servants behind them.
“Taro-ji!” Cajeiri called out. Antaro looked up brightly, and walked up the steps on her own, though with Jegari at her elbow. She gave two little bows, one to Mother, and in Mother’s presence adopted a reserve she would not have had.
“We are so glad,” Cajeiri said. “We were worried!”
“We were not suffering. We had plenty of fruit juice, plenty of pillows and blankets,” Jegari said cheerfully, “and Taro slept through half of it.”
“I did not,” Antaro said. Two other Taibeni had come in by then, tall, older, in the brown and green of their clan, Antaro and Jegari’s parents, both, who stood there a moment, took in their presence, nodded a little courtesy, then slipped back out the door.
“Nandiin,” Cajeiri exclaimed. “Honored Mother,—”
“They have mecheiti on the grounds, nandi,” Antaro said. “They need to get back as quickly as possible.”
“Geidaro may be dead,” Cajeiri said. “We are not telling everyone. Has any word gotten to the bus?”
“Not to us,” Jegari said. “We had several Shejidani Guild come aboard, but we were officially told stay seated and stay quiet, and they were up to something. There was code flashing at one point, so I think something is on the move. —Dead. How?”
“It was not Shejidani Guild,” Onami said. “But yes, units are moving in that direction.”
“They are about to offload the supplies,” Janachi said. “With the trucks and the prisoners to follow.”
“We should move everybody upstairs,” Mother said, “and get these two young people a place to sit down, at very least.”
“Nandi.” Antaro made a little bow, casted arm tucked close.
“No one in the whole house is sleeping tonight, except, perhaps, my daughter. Come. Son of mine.”
“Bring in only the perishables,” Heisi was calling down to inbound staff. “Leave the rest until daylight. Tea and sandwiches in the kitchen, nadiin!”
It was considerable commotion inbound, with Uncle’s staff and packages. Janachi quietly barred ascent for a moment, holding back the tide to let them and their aishid come up to the main floor and back to Uncle, who was talking to someone on the phone, with a servant standing by. Father, perhaps, had called to find out the state of things; and indeed, when Mother came near, Tatiseigi offered the phone to her.
“Yes,” she said, and, “Absolutely.” And, “It may be a good idea.”
Oh, please, Cajeiri thought. He did not want an order to go home. It was dangerous getting to the train, for one thing, even on the bus, dangerous for any escort Uncle might send to bring the bus back, and for another—he had begun this problem. He wanted to see it through. He wanted to be sure both Uncle and Tirnamardi would be all right, and that was still in doubt, tonight.
Mother handed the phone back to the servant, and looked toward Antaro, who was settling carefully into a chair, with Jegari close by.
“They will likely not go upstairs and rest,” Mother said.
“They probably will not, Honored Mother. What did Father say?”
“It was not your father, son of mine. It was your great-grandmother.”
“Mani! At this hour! Is everything all right?”
“She wishes you well. She is in Najida. She says that Lord Machigi—we take it that he is meant—is in good health and wishes you well.”
“I am very well, Honored Mother!” He was astonished that mani and Mother
had even had an agreeable conversation. “We are all well! Has he anything to say about Nomari-nadi?”
“That he is pleased to know he is well. We are all so very well, son of mine, that the very fact your great-grandmother has called at this hour from Najida, where she is meeting with Lord Machigi, fills us with delight. She knows what is going on up here, she is tracking it as closely as she can, and, greater wonder, she is thus far satisfied.”
Lord Machigi out of place—he almost never left his residence in Tanaja; and he and mani were meeting in Najida, which was very out of the way for Lord Machigi, but one of the safest and quietest places they could both reach—indicated Father was talking to Lord Machigi, through mani, and that very large things were shifting.
At this hour.
“You do not think, Honored Mother, that it was Lord Machigi’s people who—”
“It would not be legal, and it would stir the Guild to enter the dispute at a time when Lord Machigi is in negotiations to have the Guild recognize his bodyguard. No, son of mine, I think our first surmise is the true one. The Shadow Guild is closing up shop in the north and would like to lay hands on whatever records reside in Ajiden—elsewhere, if they could cart them off, but we have not made that easy, one trusts. With luck, we have made it highly inconvenient.”
He had always thought Mother was smart about some things, but he had never thought she was smart in figuring out enemies and allies. She certainly had spent her life upsetting both clans she had ties to.
But then—she had been hardly older than he was when she had made her choice to leave her father and try to live with Uncle. And maybe she had just been too young then to know who was lying.
“I hope we have,” he said dryly, “made it inconvenient.”
“Did she call you?” Mother asked Uncle. “Surely she must have. At this hour. And from Najida.”
“She did call,” Uncle said, “which makes me think your husband is not sleeping tonight, either. One suspects I was second on ’Sidi-ji’s list of calls tonight. One takes it for a signal she has reached some specific understanding with Lord Machigi—which is a good thing. We also have Dur coming in, early tomorrow. Breakfast. We should abandon the notion of sleep tonight, I think.”