“Aiji-ma,” Tema said, and Machigi said to the waiting servants, “More tea.”
Talk was ceremonially ended for a space. Any organization of thoughts had to be suspended in favor of reflection and calm for the space of a pot or two of tea.
Bren drew a slow breath and revised his own notions of how to proceed—calmly, securely, within a hospitality proven reasonable and reasonably generous. Machigi was, he thought, as worried as a man should be with his region fallen into the hands of its longtime adversary, the northern Guild, and someone proposing, as a condition for solving his difficulty, that he come to a city he did not trust, commit himself to the hospitality of the man who had lately Filed Intent on him, and trust that it was not an elaborate plot the aiji-dowager had contrived to embarrass him and his clan in the view of millions.
Hardly surprising that Machigi was perturbed. But Machigi was also in a serious bind, and might have been dead by now, by decree of the same Guild Council, if not for the aiji-dowager’s offer. Instead—the dowager offered him power over the whole district and Guild backing in holding it. Damned right Machigi was perturbed. But he was also keenly interested in the proposition.
Words passed through Guild channels, and, not too surprisingly, the ministers in question had not been far from Machigi’s summons. The doors to the audience hall opened again, and five officials entered, at which Bren rose politely, and bowed. Servants brought up chairs from the sides of the room, more bodyguards took their places at the edges of the room, and more servants hastened to remove the priceless blue tea service and bring in a new service, this one of figured porcelain in high relief, with seven cups.
The five officials took their places, and of the lot, Bren recognized only one, Gediri, Machigi’s personal advisor.
“Nand’ Gediri you know,” Machigi said, after the first sip of tea. “The minister of war, nand’ Kaordi; the minister of trade and commerce, nand’ Disidri. The minister of agriculture, nand’ Maisuno. The minister of public works, nand’ Laudri. These are the full council as it stands. Nandiin, the paidhi represents the aiji-dowager of the aishidit’tat.”
“Nandiin,” Bren said with a polite nod all around. And not a word of business would pass before the round of tea was done.
“We have brought out the sun,” Machigi said, indicating the window to their side, and indeed, a hole in the storm clouds let in a ray of sun that shafted down toward the rainy harborside. Light sparkled off the iron-gray water and picked out an old freighter’s bow.
“A felicitous sign,” Laudri said, “let us hope, nandiin.”
“Let us indeed,” Trade said.
Bren put on a pleasant expression for the positive sentiments, feeling somewhat better about the audience. It was not going badly—at least far as the ceremonial tea was concerned.
Now he had to engage these various interests as well as Machigi’s. And still talk Machigi into coming north.
Machigi coming north to sign the agreement was, for one thing, important protocol. Unspoken was the fact there was no way in hell the aiji-dowager of the aishidit’tat was going to come south to pay court to young Machigi, as the surviving warlord of the Marid.
No, Machigi had to come to her, and this proud young hothead now realized he had been pushed into a move he had never intended to make—he knew Ilisidi wouldn’t come here; and Najida was under repair, and Kajiminda was the seat of his longtime enemy, Lord Geigi, so both were out of the question. That left Shejidan. In full view of the media.
There was gracious discussion of the weather, the paidhi’s health…
“One is fully recovered, nandi, thank you,” Bren said.
And of the dowager’s departure from the region.
“The dowager is currently pursuing business in Malguri, to which she had been en route before affairs on the coast diverted her,” Bren said. “She will return very quickly.”
“To Shejidan,” Machigi muttered. “She is requesting a signing in Shejidan.”
“A brief affair,” Bren said quickly, before any of the ministers could respond, “but very public. Televised. If one is going to change the world, nandiin, best not have it done by rumor, but publicly, so that there is only one version of what happened, and as great a number of witnesses as possible. But I shall wait to explain that matter.”
“He wants us to support the Edi grant of a lordship,” Machigi muttered, drank all his tea at once, and set the cup down.
That drew frowns. And other cups, drunk to the last, clicked down onto side tables.
Bren set his own down carefully. There was no way he could drink it all at a gulp. They were at serious business, now. Mortally serious business.
“It is the dowager’s most dearly held plan,” he said quietly, “to see conditions in the south and the west considerably altered, for reasons of peace. That it benefits citizens of those regions is a necessary part of the plan: It is her view that prosperous people have far less reason to risk it all in conflict. It also offers you advantages. Note that once the Edi hold a seat in the legislature, they will have one vote in the hasdrawad and one in the tashrid, and they must obey the law. The Marid, as a district, will have five lords, and more than five seats, becoming an important bloc, even weighed against the power of the Padi Valley clans up north. You will become a bloc other interests will court, to your advantage.”
“We shall have all five votes,” Machigi said. “Is that agreed within these documents?”
“Not within the documents,” Bren said carefully. “But there having been five Marid clans, from antiquity. By my knowledge of the law of the aishidi’tat, when she says that you should be lord of all the Marid—you would hold all five votes. That is another factor in my urging that you go to Shejidan at once and use those votes, by signing into this session of the legislature, to make that point. In all the other furor, that will likely go marginally noticed, with no argument prepared against it, and you will have laid down the precedent.”
“Machigi-aiji would be at risk of his life by going to Shejidan,” Gediri said. “He has hereditary enemies on the west coast and in the central regions. They will be lined up at the gates to find an opportunity.”
“He will be under massive Guild protection, nandi, at all hours, daylight and dark, coming and going. Likewise, every minister of your cabinet will be under heightened Guild protection. I am assured the Guild is backing this move of the dowager’s, and anyone who attempts to destabilize the situation will meet intense Guild opposition. I also have Tabini-aiji’s undertaking that he will silently back these efforts, remaining diplomatically quiet during this visit so as not to confuse the issue; this agreement is specifically between you and the aiji-dowager. Once you are her ally, then relations with the aiji in Shejidan will be on that basis, and you will have her support, as you will support her—not in an over-hasty rush to alter everything, but step by step, as trade develops. Meanwhile, you will have those five votes, nandi, and you will find yourself courted for them. One has every confidence that you will use that leverage for the betterment of your people. You will not need to go to war to secure more advantage for your region. You are being offered it. And supported in it.”
The ministers looked marginally happier, perhaps at their inclusion in high security.
But Machigi frowned. “Still, you ask me to leave matters at a crisis and go off to Shejidan to sign away the West Coast. You are all promises, thus far. You say you bring offers. Let us see them.”
“Indeed, nandi.” He brought his briefcase onto his lap, opened it, and extracted a thick stack of papers, with tabs between. “If one could, with the assistance of your staff, distribute these…”
Machigi snapped his fingers. Servants hurried to assist, and Bren quietly distributed the packets, first to Machigi and then to Machigi’s ministers.
“The copies are identical, for reading at your leisure,” he said. “The original documents Lord Machigi holds in his hands are personally signed by the aiji-dowager, an assurance of inte
nt to complete the agreement, and by Lord Geigi, supporting her negotiations: duplicates exist in the hands of other parties. There are likewise documents from the new lord of Maschi clan and signed letters from the heads of the Edi and the Gan peoples, stating their intent to support the aiji-dowager’s negotiations on their behalf and to support the outcome of the alliance between the aiji-dowager and the leader of the Marid.”
A massive riffling of papers among the ministers. Machigi sat, not examining what he held.
“Such documents are indeed here in facsimile, nandi,” Gediri said.
“The last of the documents, nandiin,” Bren said, “is economic in nature, and it is mine. One proposes that there be a representative of Lord Machigi in Shejidan as quickly as possible to secure a residence, to set up an office, to prepare a safe place, with Guild assistance, for Lord Machigi to do business. One further proposes that as soon as Lord Machigi signs an agreement with the aiji-dowager, the representative of Lord Machigi sign an immediate trade agreement with the Merchants’ Guild in Shejidan—the papers are routine and can be ready within hours—and set up, on the same premises, a trade office in Shejidan. Your porcelains, for instance, have not appeared in the northern collectors’ market in a century.” There had been a boycott, initiated from the south, which, typically, had actually hurt the south more than the north—he did not mention that matter.
“Is this the dowager’s proposal?” Machigi asked
“This is my own idea, nandi. The beauty and the quality of the work I have seen here—not alone the pillars, which of course one can never forget—are bound to attract interest. Northern museums hold fragments of Marid work. A tea service is highly valued. And I believe an exhibit of state gifts would immediately catch the attention of very influential collectors. The public can be encouraged to view the artistic heritage of the Marid, particularly the southern Marid, which has been very much in the background in recent decades…and this will utterly change the perception many hold of the Marid as more rural. I myself had no idea of the existence of such things until I came here.”
“State gifts, you say.”
“I do not demand, nandi. Far from it. But if one could request a sample of such wares, which can be displayed in the public area of the Bujavid—something representing what can be traded—in the character of a good will gift from the Marid to the people. It will touch popular sentiment. And generate excitement among the wealthy—among the influential and the fashion-setters, the very people who will be voting on further measures—and supporting the first steps in trade.”
“And generating resentments among competitors,” Gediri said. “Is this considered?”
“Porcelains of the north are distinctive, as these are. And desired. And traded. But they are not similar. Within a decent time, when you widen the trade to more common work, those goods, too, will have a name for quality and fashion, so yes, there will be competition, but it is more likely to stimulate interest in collecting. Through this trade, you will form a relationship with the Merchants’ Guild, who will guide you and assure you do not come up against such problems—besides providing, in their offices, a place for contact with other districts. They have no enforcement arm, as you may know, and are only advisory.”
“Porcelains,” Machigi said, not enthusiastically. “They are not an immediate economic benefit.”
“Bluntly, they are a good that threatens no one,” Bren said. “A first step, designed to create a demand for Marid goods. Your porcelains, your craftwork, will open the door and change opinions favorably. Your trade in other things—textiles and foodstuffs—will follow and expand.”
“Where in this is our access to the East Coast?” Machigi asked.
“That begins in the hour of the signing of that agreement,” Bren said. “Immediately after that signing, a representative of Taisigi clan whom you will also appoint will fly to the East Coast with the cachet of the aiji-dowager and yourself to meet with representatives of the aiji-dowager in Malguri district, and guides from there will enable a safe journey to the coast. Included, one would suggest, should be Merchants’ Guild officials, in an advisory capacity. They can serve as fair brokers between yourselves and the inhabitants of the East Coast. You will be proposing the building of a new port, and you will be establishing a trade office. There will be no rail link. How long will it take a ship to appear in those waters?”
“A ship has to be outfitted, paidhi. It has to have a port when it gets there.”
“What would be the one-way trip, however? One has no idea.”
Machigi thought about it in silence. “Say—thirty-three days, with felicity. Given the cooperation of the weather. Given some sort of port facility.”
“The first ship should carry construction supervisors and skilled workmen. The dowager will provide the financing. She will negotiate with you on what items are to be supplied locally and what must be imported; the general notion is to hire locals, which will put money into their economy, buy food from them, more money, and buy local materials. These are not rich villages. The appearance of textiles and goods that they will be able to afford with their new found money will bring favorable opinions. Fair work. Fair wages. Fair trade. They in turn will offer trade in leather, in furs, in wood, and in fuel for your ships—it will have to be sent in. The details are yet to work out. But that is the generality of it.”
There was a lengthy silence. “Of what nature are these people, nandi?” War asked. “Are they civilized?”
“They are much like the smaller villages of the Marid, nandi—hardworking, generally honest, a little suspicious of outsiders. Hence the representatives from Malguri district. The dowager is well-reputed on the coast.”
A further silence.
“Dreams,” Machigi said. “Hinging on this meeting in Shejidan.”
“Even so, nandi. And one urges this go forward with all speed. Your representative first, then yourself.”
“One just walks in,” Machigi said. “And there is security at the train station.”
“Let me outline what is proposed, nandi: you may come by train or by air—let me suggest Najida Airport, with your own security. At whatever facility you arrive, the dowager will provide a bus and additional Guild security to take you and your company to the residence your representative has established. You will be under the Guild’s close protection in that house and in every venture to the Bujavid, and every other venture you may choose, until you are safely back in Tanaja.”
“And the aiji’s opinion of this?”
“One does not speak for him, at present, nandi, only for the aiji-dowager, who has his assurance he will not intervene. One senses he will prefer to watch from a certain distance, and my sense is that he hopes for a good outcome for his grandmother. He regards certain of the reputations at stake as his personal assets, and he would by no means wish to see this go badly for her. He has extended himself that far.”
“Indeed.” Machigi rested his chin on fist. “We shall read these papers you provide. We shall talk together. We shall see you at dinner, nand’ paidhi.”
“Nandi.” That was a dismissal, and a reasonable one. He had time to go upstairs, settle in, try to get his nerves together, and dress for a formal dinner.
It wasn’t going badly. There was no guarantee it wouldn’t. There was no way to know what the ministers were going to argue in private, but they had to have that chance. He stood up, the ministers all rose and bowed, he bowed, collected his bodyguard, and left, on a familiar route, with two of Machigi’s servants leading the way.
It was surreal to be back in the suite he had occupied before the Guild action. The white, ornate furniture was entirely familiar, and the phone they had asked for was still on the table. The bed in which he had spent very uncomfortable hours had the same ornate coverlet. He might never have left.
And of all things—his lost shaving kit was sitting on the bureau. His clothes, recovered from luggage left behind in a desperate escape, were all in the closet.
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He was particularly delighted about the shaving kit, which he could not replace this side of Mospheira, and about the personal items: his mother’s locket, a pocketknife his brother Toby had given him, an informal and very comfortable coat, and a well-broken-in pair of dress boots. It was a very welcome surprise.
Similarly, his aishid found items, all cleaned and proper. They met in the hallway to compare notes, and indeed, everything they had left behind in the van on the road was here.
“A kind gesture,” Bren said, and his bodyguard avowed themselves uncommonly pleased and, for once, surprised.
Machigi’s servants arrived to help them dress for dinner, and this time Bren did not decline the help. He had professional assistance with the dress coat and with the braid, which had wilted a bit from the weather, and he changed to the comfortable boots.
It felt a little chancy, having Machigi’s servants about, but there was not a single item with them this visit that they had to hold in secret—all of the sensitive items were already sent on to Shejidan.
And with the staff’s help, they were very quickly in order for a formal dinner. Banichi and Jago to go stand dinner duty, while Tano and Algini nominally to guard the room—but one doubted they would only be sitting and watching the furniture. They would very likely, Bren thought, have Guild visitors in his absence, people with things to report and to ask—conversations in which no civilian was welcome and which had very much to do with the future of the Marid, from quite another viewpoint and involving quite another power.
So downstairs he went with Banichi and Jago, this time into the dining hall, where he met, immediately, Gediri, the one minister he knew, the four other ministers he had just met, and relevant spouses, to whom he was introduced. There were, besides them, several notables, with spouses, to whom he was also introduced, all this quite properly accomplished before Machigi arrived. They were a table of twelve as they took their seats.
Twelve became felicitous thirteen as Machigi came in alone, filling the last chair. The mood was light over an excellent pastry, as Machigi chatted easily with the ministers and the other guests.
Intruder Page 5
