They had to be told the situation.
“We are searching outside,” Bren said, approaching them, “as well as below. Nandi, within the last few moments we have also lost track of Nomari. We do not know how, but violence does not seem to be involved. We are searching for him as well.”
“Gods,” Bregani said.
“One agrees,” Bren said. Ragi had no word for love, let alone love-struck. There were indelicate words. It also had several words for noble intentions gone awry. “It may be a notion of helping the search. We do not know. Is there any indication you have, any idea the route this young man could have taken besides the escape tunnel?”
“The garden. The observatory . . . the terrace.” The ready quantity of exceptions to security was appalling in itself. “None are easy. But to a young man . . .”
Machigi also joined them, listening. Bregani cast an uneasy glance look toward him. So did Murai.
“I have no idea,” Machigi said. “Yes, I know him. Yes, he has been under my orders in the past. But not in this.”
“You have no clue,” Bren said. “No hint.”
“I have made no secret of spying on our host during the last regime. And recently . . . yes. I was the source of the dowager’s information on the state of affairs with Tiajo. But I have nothing to do with either disappearance: my guard is out searching for your daughter, nandiin, to the best of their skill. What my former agent has done or where he has gone I have no idea.”
“Did he mention Husai at any time?” Bren asked. “Have you any indication of his state of mind?”
Machigi’s cold gaze settled on him. “His state of mind? Confused. He is offered everything. He is accustomed to nothing. He has no idea how to talk to me on this trip. He is a lord and not a lord, a Ragi who has spent years down in the Marid, making associations and selling some of them to the highest bidder. Is he attracted to your daughter, nandiin? He has never been a fool before. But I cannot read him at all since he has come back from the north. Guild appears to have lost him. I am impressed. We should all be impressed.”
Machigi’s humor could not soothe distraught parents. Bren asked sharply: “You do not think he has been working for the other side.”
“No. Or if he has, I will be further impressed,” Machigi said, and to Bregani and Murai: “Nandiin, I assure you, if I had the least clue as to your daughter’s whereabouts in this city, I would say it. But he might have an idea.”
Transportation Guild. Access to commerce. Trains. Trucks. Ships and fishing boats. Everything that moved, from people to mail.
“Nandi,” Jago said, and handed Bren her communications unit, not troubling to hide the transaction.
Banichi, certainly. He held the unit to his ear and walked a few paces away, for privacy. “This is Bren. What do we know?”
“Nothing yet,” Banichi said. “We believe Nomari is acting on his own. We suspect he has been inside this building before, and we suspect he has gotten outside, by what route we still do not know. Once into that warren below the kitchens, there is more than one escape tunnel. Bindanda thought he had that blocked, but we were unaware of the ventilation system.”
“Lord Machigi denies knowing anything of this,” he said. “I tend to believe him. Husai is the one we have to find, above all else. Does the dowager know?”
“To my knowledge, no. She has retired for the night and we have not heard otherwise. Cenedi is acting on his own in the matter. We are closing streets and both bridges, and we have sent units northeast of the city in case they attempt to leave by land. But this extensive underground around the residency is proving a problem. Apparently these excavations penetrate ancient foundations, extending about a city block from the modern walls, some used for storage, some filled in. We do not know whether this was the route taken. It might have been. For all we know this interconnection of ancient ruins may connect with some modern excavation going off in its own direction. We are searching, but we deem the most logical direction of flight is toward the port, where nothing is moving; or toward the northern hills. They cannot get out by vehicle. We are preventing so much as the launch of a fishing boat, and the navy has boats out. We are covering everything possible. The speed and means by which this was carried off do not argue for amateurs or haphazard planning. Stay where you are, Bren-ji. Encourage everyone to stay in that area. Do not leave the group.”
“Yes,” he said. “Without question.” He handed the unit back to Jago, who had come to stand near him. She listened a moment, then said “Yes,” and closed the conversation.
Bregani and Murai were looking at him, clearly hoping and dreading at once. “There is no news yet,” Bren said. “Roads are blocked. Ships and boats are prevented from moving. We are devoting all our resources to finding your daughter.”
“If he is looking for her . . .” Murai said, “if he is looking for her. . . .”
“He has been here before,” Bregani said. “I am more and more certain he has been inside the residency. Not with that name. But I suspect he knows ways we may not.”
“Husai-daja is our total concern,” Bren said, “we will not stop looking. The dowager’s people and the other Guild force will all do their utmost.”
And what had laid hands on Husai might cross Nomari’s path, he thought. Human feelings said there was a connection and that Nomari’s action was emotional. It was a mental pitfall to say it was a young man in love, when one had to change mental languages even to express the thought—but—
Throw over the likelihood of a province of the aishidi’tat—to be on the side of the kidnappers and duck out to join them? Nothing of that made sense. If Nomari were Shadow Guild the last thing that agency would want was to lose him as lord of Ajuri. As a logical choice, that was off the chart.
And for an atevi lad, last heir of a line, to throw over his own heritage, give up the associations that could restore his clan, his inheritance, his identity. . . .
Lovesick fool did not remotely translate, let alone apply. Man’chi certainly would account for anything. But man’chi in Nomari’s instance, if it was not to Machigi—where was it now? Possibly to Damiri, maybe to Tatiseigi, possibly to Cajeiri, and most likely, very most likely—to his dead brother and parents. The connections led in circles that did not involve Senjin.
And how did any of those translate to reckless action on behalf of a girl he had only just met?
All those years ago, a young boy had found his family murdered, and fled, helpless to do anything.
Was that the real man’chi? A duty unable to be done years ago? A nightmare seen and seen again . . . when he had been far too young to do anything?
Their innocent, bewildered boy might not be an innocent, might never have been an innocent, or helpless, where it came to revenge. Shadow Guild agents within his reach, a knowledge of the premises that even Bregani might not have . . .
And the skills to elude his own bodyguard?
Nomari was not going to be found, he thought. “We have to concentrate all efforts on Husai,” he said. “Relay that to Banichi. Let Nomari go. She has to be the priority.”
* * *
• • •
There were, Algini and Machigi’s bodyguard reported, no evident signs of egress aboveground. Machigi’s aishid was coming back, having run out of traces. Algini was reporting back to Banichi, downstairs. With the lights back on, Bindanda and Narani were investigating and interviewing staff downstairs, while Jeladi assumed the pose of an ordinary servant upstairs. They had totally cleared the tables and brought up food and drink they could be sure of.
All of them were exhausted, and most of them had lost any inclination to sleep.
The various clan heads, Senjin and Farai, and the smaller subclans, had gathered around Bregani and Murai at their large table, quiet, sleep-deprived and grim-faced. Bregani and Murai were in no mood for questions from anyone, and Bren had no answer
s and no inclination to be diverted with questions. Jago reported what there was to report, audible to all of them, and to certain Guild-seniors who came to stand close in the deathly silence. It was no news of Husai, no news at all for the most part, except the reports of units in the Justiciary and on the street, negative, negative, negative.
The situation at the port, regarding the freighter that had attempted to break out, was static. Persons had boarded the Dojisigi freighter and some aboard had tried to leave. Five people had attempted to swim to the dock, and were now in what the Guild called “precautionary custody” pending further developments. The navy ship now held the center of the harbor and deployed small motor launches along the coast as far as several villages adjacent to Lusi’ei.
There had been one incident: a shot fired deliberately short had sent one fishing boat hastily back to its launch point, to be met by Guild ashore. That crew of fishermen had three whose hands did not show any evidence of physical labor . . . so they were answering questions. But thus far they were providing nothing of interest.
Nothing, meanwhile, was moving in city streets. There had been a few ambulance calls, answered, one elderly person moved to hospital, one fall from a roof, likewise, and a baby currently making its way into the world.
But no word of Nomari. And none of Husai.
Bren envisioned the map, a fair distance of marshland and flat plain that was largely hunting range, lying between the railroad and the first of the Dojisigin villages. There was no road to speak of: commerce between Senjin and the Dojisigin was almost entirely by sea. That was cut off. And any persons moving out of Lusi’ei on foot would be crossing pest-ridden grassland and salt marsh, not speeding along an established route.
Geigi had been alerted regarding the open marshlands, that was Jago’s quiet statement, which said far more than the Senjini listening would figure. Heat-sensitive eyes were on that region. Bren was glad to know it, but he made no comment. It was a classified ability.
And meanwhile they waited, with the situation in the city uneasy and the situation across the Marid Sea developing further and further from Ilisidi’s intentions.
Ilisidi was asleep, Cenedi said. One wondered. One wondered was she taken aback so severely it had affected her health—or was it a story to delay questions and gather information? Was it a delay to use secure communications to have a passionate conversation with her grandson, or with Lord Geigi?
And one had to wonder, critically, who was commanding the navy at the moment. Ilisidi had moved two ships here and now had one. Where the ships were concerned, Tabini-aiji had to at least have neglected to object to her moving them out of the straits.
Now one of them had diverted off toward the Dojisigin port, and that cast doubt on the idea it was solely the Assassins’ Guild Council in charge of the situation to the east. The Guild had arrived with transport sufficient to move into the Dojisigin—evidently—and one was beginning to suspect they had come with intent and that it was not a response to some change in the Dojisigi stance. Would the average Dojisigi take up arms to resist the northern Guild? Civilians were immune from Guild action—unless they attacked Guild members, which was an insane thing to do, at least in the north, where people were assured they and their property would not be at issue.
But the Shadow Guild had not had any such policy. And Assassins’ Guild and Shadow Guild wore the same uniform, when the latter chose to wear a uniform. They used the same style of attack and defense. One was the other, except where they were not.
And except that the Shadow Guild had deliberately created fear around it. One only hoped that fear of them in the Dojisigi citizenry would serve the same purpose as trust of the Guild in the rest of the aishidi’tat, and that civilians would not fling themselves into harm’s way to protect Tiajo.
It was also fairly certain that taking out Tiajo would not force a truce. She was an instrument of the Shadow Guild; she was not in command of it. The commander of the outlaw Guild was a far more obscure figure, and when they took out that commander, there would be another, and another, down to the last isolated units to mop up. Very, very few of that lot would surrender. Very few would have any remote claim of innocence.
And if he himself had imagined they could frighten the Shadow Guild out of Senjin and concentrate them in the Dojisigin—
Their own operation moving into Koperna had been quick and virtually seamless, the citizenry mightily inconvenienced, but only for a few hours before a relief system was in place to offer medical care, food and water, communication through a still-functioning phone and broadcast network, and assistance
In this case, with Bregani’s cooperation, they had occupied the capital and locked everything down with little more distress than a city ordinarily suffered overnight—fewer, perhaps, since the taverns and entertainments were all closed down and the crime rate was nothing.
The likelihood of anything so peaceful happening in the Dojisigin, however, was small. Their lord would not be on the airwaves telling them to seek shelter and avoid panic. Tiajo’s style was temper, outrage, extravagant claims—threatening assassination of her personal targets. Every official would be at fault. Every householder would be on his own.
And if the Shadow Guild had lost any sense of usefulness in Tiajo, they would be taking every possible means to vacate the province and leave Tiajo and her ministers to face what arrived.
It was going to be noisy, and it was not going to be pretty.
And Ilisidi’s intention, to deal with the Shadow Guild by attrition, was evidently not what was happening to the east, and exactly what she had promised Senjin would not happen. It was a risky move in terms of outcome, and certainly risky in terms of Marid attitudes toward northern intervention.
And what was the Shadow Guild’s countermove? One kidnapping to threaten another key individual—their new ally. Murai’s personal bodyguard under detention, one compromised. The upset of a teacup upstairs and a well-timed blackout downstairs, with one servant now undergoing questioning. It was wholly their style.
No ransom demand would come. That was not the way the Shadow Guild operated. Bregani would know, initially, that he had to cooperate with the dowager and go through with the agreements with Machigi . . . but later, quietly, perhaps a message conveyed by another compromised servant, instruction would come, something to undo everything the dowager had done. His aishid knew it. Cenedi knew it. Bren had no doubt Bregani and Murai at least grasped the outlines of it, and were already making mental reservations about what they dared do, could do, should do to try to save their daughter. Instinct was strong. But so was a proper lord’s downward responsibility, that response to man’chi that was so deep and so strong.
Time enough now for Nomari to have been completely across the city. Time enough for all sorts of things to have happened. Time enough for Husai’s kidnappers, perhaps, to learn that the Dojisigin itself was under attack, and that the tactic they had planned to use might not work in the way they had intended—which would make Husai not as valuable as she might have been.
Kill her? Make a statement? They were fully capable of that. A Guild unit was never utterly dependent on orders. If it was cut off, it took measures to survive. If it found other units, it rapidly sorted out a command structure and formed a hierarchy and a plan.
Time might be measured only in how long it took Husai’s kidnappers to realize they were running out of resources and out of time.
“If anything can be done,” he said to Jago and Tano, “if there is the remotest chance to negotiate with the people who took Husai, I am willing, personally. If we can make that contact. We have the one servant under arrest. Have we learned anything?”
Servants in fact still were present, though not moving freely, being under the glare of lights, quiet and somber. They had not advertised Husai’s kidnapping. The arrest of the servant who had spilled the tea had been quiet, the man invited to the righthand c
orridor and behind closed doors, for inquiry into the accident—an inquiry that had gone on for a long time and might by now have launched other inquiries in the building.
“Nothing yet,” Tano said. “They have names, but none that mean anything. It is the same story . . . a threat, as best we figure, levied against a servant, and not that long ago, by someone the man claims not to know, and the claim has credibility. A parent was under threat, but now under our specific protection, and the man, now willing, still has no names.”
Efforts to clear the residence of problems and get Bregani and others into their own quarters before dawn had utterly come to disaster. Any servant could be compromised. Any apartment could become a problem. Bregani’s cousin and his family remained at the broadcast center, occasionally running taped messages, occasionally updating with banal chatter. The lords of subclans huddled together at one table, while Bregani and Murai stayed close to Bren as often as he spoke to Tano or Jago, hoping for some word. Arrests had been made throughout the city, persons civilly detained, arrests generally without penalty, but forbidding movement except with Guild escort.
“I wonder whether I might appeal,” Bren began.
“No,” Jago said.
“—might appeal to these Dojisigi still in the city, in my own name, as negotiator. I would not use the dowager’s authority. I would not commit her.”
“These people,” Tano said, “are not reachable. They have trained for years with a corrupt purpose . . . with the intention to betray trust for a corrupt cause. No, Bren-ji. There will be no surrender, no negotiation.”
“Some might want out,” Bren said.
“Could we take a different assignment?” Jago asked sharply.
“You would not,” he said. “But . . .”
“Homura? Momichi? Is that the thought? They were themselves coerced. They said. And we still do not know with any certainty what they serve. No. You cannot make these outlaws good. Guild cannot lay down their knowledge, ever. Absent an honest lord, our word cannot be trusted. And their man’chi is not to honest lords.”
Divergence Page 29
