“Are you? Or am I to have the truth of things?”
“I hope to have done nothing to make you angry at me. Have I?”
Mani looked at him. Everybody truly was afraid of her. Even Father gave her room. But she looked at him a long moment in the way adult people looked at each other, and said, “No. You have not,” in a gentle way that still did not make him anxious to ask her whether his mother or even Great-uncle Tatiseigi was the object of her mood.
He had come to blunt the anger. He wanted to talk past it. And he knew if she was not angry at him, and if nand’ Bren had not been able to intervene, he was the one who could do it.
“It was very unexpected,” he said, “everything that happened. And one is terribly sorry about the bus.”
She waved a dismissal of the topic. “The bus is far from the center of the matter.”
“I shall do everything,” he said, “to be sure my sister is safe, and to be sure Uncle lives a long, long time. I have done everything I have done, remembering your advice, mani-ma.”
“One does not doubt Lord Tatiseigi’s management of a situation, but this sudden cousin has certainly bent events sideways. What is your opinion of him?”
That was deep into the pit—talking to him as if he did have an opinion that mattered. The law did not give him that, in public. But with mani—it did.
“Uncle started off not believing him, but Aunt Geidaro was really, really upset about him. She came to Tirnamardi and made a scene. I think that may have been when Uncle started taking Nomari-nadi seriously.”
Mani lifted a brow ever so slightly, and the frown shattered. She began to be thoughtful, putting the scene together. “And then?”
“Great-aunt was really, truly upset. Uncle told her to leave. And Uncle had Nomari to supper and invited him to stay in the house and not in the tents.”
“The others, as we understand. You are leaving out things.”
“Others did come. Ajuri that were in hiding, like him.”
“Hiding under false names.”
“Some. Not all. The ones that Great-aunt was hunting. They support him.”
“And how do you find this person?”
“His hands are callused. He has done hard work. But he lived on the estate when Mother was little. And she remembers meeting him when she was very small. She was climbing a statue.”
“Climbing a statue.”
“Which she should not have been doing. But he recalled it to her, and she says nobody else would know that. So she thinks he is the boy she met when she was small. And the Ajuri— both the ones who were living in Ajuri, and the ones who were hiding from Shishogi’s people—they say he is who he says he is.”
Mani nodded slowly. “And his character? Would we be impressed?”
“His manners are sometimes at fault. But he watches and he learns, and Uncle’s house is more particular than Father’s, and I think, more than Ajuri.”
“We know that, to be sure. So what else did you learn about this Nomari?”
“He once ran the switching for the Red Train, in Shejidan. He was quite proud of that.”
Both brows, this time. And a slight smile. “A switchman, then.”
“I think he has done a lot of things. He moved about a lot . . . he said he always volunteered to be transferred, so he could learn new jobs.”
“And move about the countryside.”
“He did that.”
“Clever fellow, this. Perhaps we shall talk to him before long. So many changes, so abruptly done. And your great-uncle choosing an heir. Are you pleased?”
With Great-grandmother in a chancy mood, it was like waiting for a trap to spring. This felt like one.
“I want my sister to be happy, most of all. And to be safe.”
“Someday I shall have to consider a successor of my own,” mani said.
It was a scary thought. “I want you to be there always,” he said. “I want you and Great-uncle to be there always. I depend on you.”
Mani smiled. “That is not in the nature of things, Great-grandson. But in the meanwhile I shall watch over you—and your sister. I shall not accept situations that endanger you, in particular, whatever the origin of them, and I shall certainly not be patient when I am surprised by decisions that affect your future.”
“I think getting somebody new into Ajuri is a good thing, mani. I know I worried about it and Uncle did, too, and I did think about all the things you would say and the questions you would ask, and I did my best to ask them for you. And I would have objected if I had thought you would disapprove. I would have objected.”
“Truly.”
“I swear I would, mani. I would have ordered my guard to arrest him. And I would have called Father.”
A second smile. “There is my great-grandson. And at a certain time, I have to stand by and watch you do what I have taught you to do. This was a rather tall cliff on which to try your wings. But we shall see, shall we not? Your associates have landed safely, meanwhile, despite a little set-to among humans, and one trusts they are now in good hands. We have to trust, having no choice in that matter, either. And you rushed to my door instead of reading their letters. Shall we be extraordinarily flattered?”
Great-grandmother could be upset by flattery. But she also liked being first in anything. “The letters are on paper, mani. They will be there. You are here now, and I have been worried you were angry.”
“And people are afraid of me, are they?”
“People also want you on their side. Father does. I do.” He took a chance. “Mother does. She truly does.”
Mani gave an indelicate snort, but said nothing.
Cajeiri said, to divert the issue: “I know my sister will.”
The silence went on. One did not flatter mani into agreement. Even Father would back off.
“You,” mani said eventually, “are a budding scoundrel, Great-grandson. There will come a day when people will be afraid of you.”
He had never thought that would be so. But mani was his pattern, always his pattern.
“You do need a bit more finesse, boy.”
“No, mani.”
“No?”
“I do not, because I am telling the truth.”
“Ah, but telling the truth requires absolutely extreme finesse, because so many people do not want to hear it.”
“The truth is, and everybody knows it, you are the best ally besides Father. And probably better than Father because you do not have to stay in Shejidan.”
“Well, we are a far better ally, when we have transport.”
Now mani was arguing about the bus. She was in a far better mood. “Sending the bus was Father’s idea. And if we had not had it, we would have been in trouble.”
“Ha.”
“It was a very scary night. And I am afraid Antaro would have been killed if we had not had it.”
“It was stupid of your great-uncle to sit in that house to be besieged, with his lawn full of strangers.”
“But you would not vacate Malguri if it were like that. You would not leave your staff to defend the house.”
“I would be exactly the same kind of fool as your great-uncle,” mani said, “but I would hope not to have my great-grandson on the premises when I did it.”
“I was very good, mani. I stayed where security told me to stay, I kept with my bodyguard and I did not go anywhere I should not. And I had a very senior bodyguard with me.”
“And still have them? You accept this new aishid?”
“My aishid is glad to have them. And they are very good. They have a good sense of humor, too.”
“That will often be helpful,” mani said, and signaled a servant, a quick movement of the fingers that meant more tea, and cakes.
It was a good idea to have come here first, before anything but breakfast—a ve
ry good idea, Cajeiri decided. Mani did not like to be outmaneuvered, but she was feeling better about him, which was a good thing. And once she forgave him, Tatiseigi and Father would have no trouble being forgiven.
He was less sure about Mother. Mother and Great-grandmother could strike sparks just sitting at the same table.
But Great-grandmother was no longer frowning. He had done that much.
* * *
• • •
“One is glad to hear the Presidenta is doing well,” Tabini said, in the course of things. “One is less glad to hear this Heritage party—” He used the Mospheiran word. “—has resurrected itself.”
“They made a serious mistake when they brought violence near the children,” Bren said. “The children were not welcome on Mospheira when we began. The danger now is too much attention and too many gifts, but these are sensible young people, who have seen terrible things as well as this outpouring of welcome. They have their way of striking a balance, and Kate-nandi and my former aide Sandra-nadi, one is certain, will keep them steady and sensible.”
“My son will be asking when and where they will meet,” Tabini said, “importunately so. And the meeting, be it understood, will not take place on Mospheira. Never on Mospheira. Things change, but they will not change that much.”
“They will always be welcome at Najida. And very likely at Tirnamardi.”
Tabini nodded. “Granted Lord Tatiseigi survives my grandmother’s immediate displeasure.”
“One does not believe it that extreme. There will surely be discussion. But if a human can judge, the dowager seems open to reason.”
“Ha,” Tabini said, with a shake of his head. “One debated whether to send you a warning by way of the navy, but we have a reasonable hesitation to expose family quarrels to bystanders, and secondly, your honest surprise would plead your innocence in the matter of my intentions. How angry is she—and did she summon Machigi, or do we have a security problem?”
“One cannot honestly say, aiji-ma. The indications were the latter, but one cannot exclude the first possibility.”
“So in response to events ongoing—he wants a railroad. And my grandmother is aware that this new claimant to Ajuri has dealt with Machigi and Senjin. That Machigi should not be aware of his potential appointment—one hopes not, but he certainly was well-informed on my grandmother’s whereabouts, and perhaps he knows why she diverted to the coast rather than taking up residence in the Bujavid or adding herself to the commotion in the midlands. She was perched there, understand, like a wi’itikin on a cliff, waiting for your return, to secure your attention and be sure of your man’chi before she entered the matters here. And here sit I, amid all this, hoping to believe she did not surreptitiously stir up Machigi—if only to come at the question of this candidate’s connection with the Marid before she arrived here.”
When Tabini began to sort Ilisidi’s motives—two masters of misdirection—one began to feel the earth shift. Add Machigi to the question, and there was complication upon complication.
“Your grandmother knows about this Nomari’s connection to Machigi,” Bren said. “One waited for it to surface during their meeting from one side or the other. Your grandmother did create an opening for that matter, without mentioning Ajuri or this man, but Lord Machigi failed to take it. He claimed his motive in seeking to work out some bargain with Senjin on the railroad was a quarrel arising between Bregani and Tiajo . . . which may be the truth. He did show some awareness of problems in the north, but he never mentioned any direct connection of his own. Protecting an agent, your grandmother said, aiji-ma, and she dismissed it with that. But one is certain she still wants him to admit to her that his agent has become the candidate for Ajuri.”
“My esteemed grandmother’s security remains silent on the matter,” Tabini said, “except to say she is aware, and wants details. Your information, paidhi-ji, has been clear and forthcoming—which we are sure she believes covers everything necessary.”
God, the communication on this floor of the Bujavid.
“Machigi claims, aiji-ma, that there is an opportunity to lever Senjin away from the Dojisigin. The dowager offered him the semblance of approval for his plan—the shipment of rails, which one assumes must be picked up in Najida and carried into the Taisigin Marid by truck. I informed him Najida would not be happy with a new rail line direct from Tanaja. The Edi would not be happy with any expansion of that station into a major shipping point. And on the same matter, we know the opinion of any expansion of Najida Station to run a rail line down to Ashidama Bay—and the same would definitely apply to a line run from Machigi’s capital to Najida. They oppose any rail extension or expansion as harming their business, and they view Machigi as an enemy. That would leave Machigi a possible agreement with the Maschi at Targai, but I do not think a railroad is actually what Lord Machigi wants at this juncture unless it links to Senjin’s capital. I think it is all aimed at Senjin, and he and the Senjin Marid are either going to agree, or this project will not happen.”
“Does it occur to you that this mysterious Ajuri claimant has been in Senjin and is intimately acquainted with all these issues with the rail system?” Tabini had a stare—a very affecting stare: pale eyes in a dark face that absolutely did not give away his secrets. Or his reactions.
“Aiji-ma, it does seem beyond coincidence that one has surfaced and the other is suddenly an issue.”
“It will certainly be interesting to learn where this idea originated,” Tabini said. The pale stare was hooded at the moment, thoughtful. “How did you read Machigi?”
“Ambitious, as always. Refusing to give your grandmother the personal honorific. Speaking as aiji of all the Marid, which is, one is certain, his view of himself. If Senjin joins him, Senjin will either have a short alliance with him or a long dependence on him. Machigi will not be second in that association, very certainly.”
“Senjin has been dependent on some overlord in most of living memory,” Tabini said. “Its last burst of independence was with the Farai in charge. Beyond that, in Cosadi’s rule in Dojisigi, with all that line that troubled us in the north, they were always in second place. We have given the Dojisigi lord considerable line to run only because she is inconveniently distant from us, but if Senjin should try to take the Dojisigin down even with Machigi’s blessing, he would face a long war in mountainous terrain. It would be simpler to make that obnoxious young woman irrelevant—and it would not be strange if the lord of Senjin would prefer a sane neighbor, if he can be persuaded that Machigi will make an alliance and not dislodge him from power. Especially if there was an agreement to be had that would give him the benefits of Machigi’s trade agreement with my grandmother, granted that ever comes to pass. One day we shall have to deal with Machigi, but we are quietly giving Machigi something substantial to lose—in any future quarrel with us. My grandmother operates on very ancient principles. And I have suggested to the Guild that they preserve this troublesome southerner and let my grandmother build him up. I suppose I may add Bregani of Senjin to the list of people we hope stay alive, and back my grandmother’s current notion. Her sea route is in the future. This could be rather more short term. And logistically useful.”
“The route he proposes has previously been surveyed and lacks only a single extension of rail. And the aiji-dowager is prepared to ship him finished rail.”
“Via Cobo district, the long way round,” Tabini said. “An initial shipment through the heart of the aishidi’tat, should anyone miss the gesture.” There was amusement in the tone. “My grandmother does not do things by half-measures. She has demanded the Red Train for an immediate trip to Hasjuran. While steel rail is being freighted through the midlands—she is moving in another direction. South.”
Snow, ice, and the southern mountains. Hasjuran was the last depot before the winding descent to the Marid. He tried, in principle, to keep an atevi-like calm expression in briefings. But
Lord Topari’s little capital? Log walls and a sixty-day summer, and a lord who had only recently agreed that humans were tolerable?
“She wants you, and she wants this guest of Lord Tatiseigi’s, my wife’s somewhat remote cousin. Nomari. For his railroad experience. She says she intends to hold a consultation with Lord Topari.”
God, the man was—
Rough, to say the least. Apt to say what he thought ahead of any second thought on the matter. Apt to call the paidhi-aiji an excellent creature while thanking him for favors, and that was the length and breadth of Topari’s sense of diplomacy, while the aiji-dowager. . . .
So Ilisidi wanted him. And the Ajuri candidate. . . .
To discuss the state of the railroad? Not likely. Nomari was the issue under close scrutiny.
“She is quite serious,” Tabini said. “She is deadly serious. She wants Nomari-nadi . . . one hopes not intending to serve him tea.”
Ilisidi had poisoned him at first encounter. It was a very rough route to Ilisidi’s circle of trusted persons. But if there was one individual in recent years positioned to threaten Ilisidi’s most essential assets—her great-grandson, Tatiseigi and her long alliance with the Atageini—it was this sudden claimant. Would she try him?
He had no doubt. “Do you,” he asked cautiously, “wish me to watch over him?”
“If you are present, my grandmother will more likely ask your estimation of the man. So shall I. He is potentially too close to the heart of my household.”
“I am human, aiji-ma. I am not—”
“She will seek your estimation, I say, and she will balance it with hers. That combination has produced good advice in the past.”
“Then I shall go, aiji-ma. I shall do my best.”
“My son, needless to say, will not be aboard. Nor will my wife.”
“Yes, aiji-ma.”
“Did Machigi mention anything about coming to Shejidan?”
“No, aiji-ma.” He was surprised. Very surprised. The man did not exit his territory, as a rule, even for a few hours. “He said his absence from Tanaja would invite problems. I would be surprised if he came.”
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