Both descendants of Cosadi, Bregani and Tiajo—both with close kin inside Talidi clan, the ruling clan in both provinces, and with kin on both sides of the provincial divide. It made a certain sense to rely on Farai, such as Farai could ever be relied upon. Farai was of longstanding reputation a blade that turned one way and the other, always for its own advantage. At worst, there was little to choose between Talidi and Farai . . . except to engage their self-interest, and hope that that self-interest included one’s survival.
It was worth remembering, too, that there was a cultural divide between the Marid clans and the Ragi of the north, one that had to be worked with, understood, used, so far as he could, himself being human—if he could get a sense of it. The Maridi clans had a moral flexibility that made them volatile—and while volatility was not a good thing when it came to agreements, flexibility—even in honor—was not necessarily a fault. He had yet to understand them. That was the thing. The Ragi north could be inflexible. The Marid—not so much.
“Take these to Banichi and Cenedi,” he said, handing Nomari’s message back to Jeladi, as well as the precis of his own message. “Immediately.”
One did not expect Senjin to discover the departure of their lord and half his household without some reaction. There would be a plethora of unanswerable questions—which in Koperna might already have sent factions scrambling for position.
The aishidi’tat itself moving to attack them—that had to rank lower on Senjin’s list of worries—given the immediacy of threat from their own sister-state.
One tried to remember exactly what assets the aishidi’tat now had in the south that Tabini could bring in if their mission blew up, and it was, in terms of geography, not encouraging. Machigi could rouse the whole southern Marid to war if challenged. Tiajo would be a fool to challenge him at the moment.
But if Tiajo had a plan to take Senjin, among the first moves might be to cut the northern rail link—the fragile downward link between Hasjuran and Koperna, to the injury of their host . . . thus stranding the Red Train up here.
If conflict erupted, the aishidi’tat could quickly move forces eastward on the southern line via Najida. If Tiajo took Koperna, she could not use the rail center she would have captured.
But she could certainly create bloody mayhem in Senjin in the meantime.
The Farai, who thought they had a historic claim on Najida and his Bujavid apartment, had been a thorn in his side, personally, on more than one occasion, but they were the bulwark between Tiajo’s Dojisigin and the rest of Senjin. The Farai lord might be an obnoxious, stubborn, and combative old man, but he did not deserve to be taken down by such a creature as Tiajo and her Shadow Guild supporters. And the aishidi’tat simply could not afford to have Tiajo break out of her box and start invading her neighbors to the south. Tabini would not tolerate it.
But it had been on the list of possibilities when Ilisidi had listened to Machigi’s rail proposal.
Narani arrived with Machigi’s answer, written in a difficult and angular hand. Lord Bregani is not a timid man. He is either following Tiajo’s orders, or he is convinced he has absolutely no choice but ally with me. Certainly he seems not to count on keeping Tiajo’s agents out of Senjin. Whether they are already there in numbers, ready to move—is another matter.
Machigi had urged them to call Senjin to conference. So how did they find out the set of hooks hidden in that proposition?
Which is it, nandi? he asked Machigi in absentia. You know the man. What do you think is the case here?
On the other hand . . . did Machigi really know him? They’d never, to Bren’s knowledge, met face to face.
He jotted down a note of his own. I am extremely uneasy in this evening, aiji-ma, and I am reluctant to see even one of Bregani’s security enter your presence. As for Machigi himself, who says Bregani may be following Tiajo’s orders, or fleeing her reaction, I now ask with what understanding has he advised this meeting?
A two-step maneuver? He could readily believe that Machigi had not told them everything he knew; but he could not believe that Machigi wanted harm to Ilisidi or to the agreement he had with her, not from the goodness of his heart, but for the profit he stood to lose.
No. Whatever Machigi aimed at, there had to be some benefit to Machigi’s interests.
Machigi had gone to unprecedented lengths to secure the dowager’s help, coming out of Taisigin for the first time in his life to meet with her at Najida, and now sitting in the thin air of Hasjuran, an environment almost as alien as space itself, for a sea-dweller.
The choice of Hasjuran was one item not likely Machigi’s. This operation equally well could have been run out of Targai, in Maschi clan territory, parallel with Koperna and safely in much lower, more open terrain, where they still had the advantage of access by Machigi’s forces and with a neutral clan as host. No, this frosty venue was surely Ilisidi’s choice. Hasjuran was a hilltop fortress by comparison, with a staggeringly high and snowy bulwark and a very difficult climb from the Marid side.
Ilisidi had invited Machigi to commit himself farther north than he had ever been and at greater altitude than he had ever been. If one of their party was suffering from the altitude here, it was surely Machigi—and that would apply to any other maritime lord or armed unit entering the mix. If Tiajo wanted to attack here, the altitude was not convenient for her people, nor was the cold, for which her forces were not likely equipped.
The Red Train having reassembled facing Senjin, that meant they could honor Ilisidi’s promise to Bregani, to send him back down that steep descent—but one hoped the dowager did not decide to take Bregani back down to his capital. She was capable of that kind of recklessness. Experience had proven that.
Banichi came back, and joined him in the sitting area.
“Is monitoring off?” Bren asked.
“Yes,” Banichi said.
“Then what is our situation?” he asked.
“Fluid,” Banichi said.
“Does Tabini-aiji know what is happening here, Nichi-ji?”
That—was a perilous question. Banichi’s man’chi was to him, but it was also, by previous service, to Tabini-aiji, as Algini’s was—one tended to presume—to the central Guild.
“He is generally aware,” Banichi said.
“Are you satisified? Are you comfortable with what is happening here?”
No hesitation. “Yes. So far.”
That was reassuring. “It was at no time theorized that Bregani would bring his wife and daughter, or commit his safety to Farai.”
“It was a little surprise,” Banichi said, “a contingency thought of.”
“The dowager knew he might do this.”
“Under conditions of threat, yes. If Talidi clan became untrustworthy.”
“And has it become untrustworthy?”
“Indications are, yes.”
“Machigi has forced this.”
“Possibly,” Banichi said. “Machigi is certainly no ally of the Talidi.”
“You—have such a connection, Nichi-ji. Do you not? I say nothing to—”
Banichi lifted a hand from the table, forestalling apology. “Maternally Talidi. But there is no man’chi. I am Guild, from birth. The connection is meaningless.”
“I have no doubt of you. None. Ever. But their connections . . .”
“Talidi is not strictly Maridi,” Banichi said, “and I tell you that not from within myself: I am as foreign to the Marid as Tabini-aiji himself. And that is the way of Talidi. They shed pieces here and there, from far back. They began as a west coast clan, and now the west has no common tradition with the branch here. They began on the west coast. Some settled as far north as Dur, but hold man’chi to Ajuri. In the middle coast, they married into the Maladesi, and the Farai.”
“But the Maladesi are gone.”
“The Maladesi, now extinct, are Senjin.
The Talidi and the Farai are neither one Maridi in origin. The Maladesi were Maridi, who attempted to colonize the west coast—ancient history. The surviving clans, Talidi and Farai, are west coast clans in origin, who became tributary to the Maladesi—or at least, so did the part of Talidi that did not settle at Dur.”
“One’s head could spin.”
“The Maladesi are all gone. Talidi is in three parts, the Senjin Talidi ruling the district. The Farai are now extinct except in Senjin, and both Senjin Talidi and Farai now claim to be Southern Isle in origin—which is completely false.”
“I remember about the Farai. I have never put it together.”
“The Maladesi were the link, the only claim Talidi and Farai have on Southern Isle heritage—and that is largely folklore. The modern clans are whatever they locally need to be. My own attachment of record is to the Talidi branch near Dur—should you wonder. Senjin is, in terms of antiquity of both its extant clans, a tree of shallow roots, not quite fitting into the Marid, but not separate from it, either. It gets along with the Maschi holdings at Targai. The Taisigin is another story. Machigi is a very different story.”
“Is he—?”
“—Southern Isle, as he claims? He has no way to prove it. The Sungeni and the Dausigi find it convenient to believe it at the moment. The Senjin just want him to not to invade them; and the Dojisigi clearly deny Machigi and do not challenge whatever the Senjin want to say they are, so long as they ally with Dojisigi. Tiajo claims Maladesi heritage. So does Bregani—both reckon their descent from Cosadi, who was Dojisigi and Maladesi. But one would advise against opening that topic tonight.”
“Fervently. I need advice in this tangle. I thought I knew, but clearly there are connections both real and imaginary that could affect this.”
“Say that this meeting is either nothing or a great deal. Your own reasoning comes without clan attachments, in a situation with far too many clan attachments, and that is actually an advantage. They cannot anticipate your reactions; and sometimes your advice comes from directions one would have sworn were a blank wall. That, I can say. Bregani has brought a clan other than his own. He is very possibly in difficulty. Machigi may be right about the timing of this. Whether Machigi’s intentions toward him are benign is another matter. But Tiajo is our mutual problem, and the Shadow Guild is guiding her outbursts.”
“One aches to know what link Cosadi had with Shishogi. They were contemporaries. Is it all one thing, this whole Marid problem? Sometimes I suspect it is.”
“Certainly the Shadow Guild knew where they could be safest,” Banichi said. “But it is almost certainly two things, Bren-ji. No matter what way the wind blows in the north, the Marid is always the Marid.”
“And Machigi’s visit to Najida? His extraordinarily well-timed visit to Najida? Whose idea was that, Nichi-ji? Have you any better idea? Are we operating in the dowager’s plan—or his?”
“We cannot dig that deep into Cenedi’s silences, but Machigi has developed lines of communication with the dowager regarding the state of affairs in the south. That she desires stability in the south before she dies is no secret. If her information from whatever source saw either opportunity or worsening crisis . . . she might well have informed Machigi she was in Najida, with the implication that, if he wanted to talk, that was his time to do it—and if he would ever move, now would be the moment.”
“While Nomari turns up in the north, claiming Ajuri. With a connection to Machigi. At this particular moment.”
“The dowager truly is not pleased with his move to take Ajuri. And she surely questions that connection. Legislative pressure was mounting for Tabini-aiji to fill that seat. Nomari had to act then or see some appointment made and his own cause lost. But is it possible that Machigi delivered the news about Ajuri and set the man in motion? One can believe he might. One can equally believe in a connection in the other direction—that the exposure of Shadow Guild records in Ajuri might stir the Shadow Guild to make desperate moves in the Marid. Seizing Senjin would be one of them. Machigi, whatever else he is, is not a fool. That, I do trust.”
Bren heaved a sigh, reassured and disquieted at once. “One assumes Tabini-aiji is following this.”
“At a certain point the yarn is beyond tangled. It is tied in knots. The dowager’s men are the aiji’s guard. Secure communication is as easy as a walk down the hall. I know the aiji is involved—but at what point in this sequence, we are not sure. It is worth noting, however, he has chosen to let you represent the aiji-dowager in this, not the aishidi’tat.”
Meaning that should things go wrong, there was still a level of government that could step in to right the ship. It was not the first time they had been sent out on such terms. Deniability, definitely. In case it all blew up.
“As for the candidate for Ajuri,” Banichi said, “we now have a much freer flow of information on him, independent in source. He has called himself Heteni, among other names, served Machigi not as an active agent, but an observer, and passed variously for Maschi, Separi, Furi, and Kadagidi.”
“Has he admitted to all this?”
“Yes, even the Kadagidi identity, when asked, though he says it was an identity he claimed only in Senjin. He has given an account of his time and assignments according to his memory, and we have matched it to his assignments by Transportation. He was assumed dead during the Troubles, when he used multiple identities, and some of the identities he assumed were of members of his guild he knew to be deceased, particularly the Kadagidi, Heteni, who is, indeed, still deceased.”
The dead had risen since the Troubles, in some instances. Heteni, apparently, had not.
“Nomari-nadi volunteered as much, wisely enough, since it was likely to be found out, given our access to Machigi. But—one cannot fault him for surviving, and he is not proven to have supported the Kadagidi in any way. He swore he had no dealings with the Dojisigi, nor wished to have. We are still making inquiries, but to be fair, no lord of the aishidi’tat has ever answered as many questions in advance of his confirmation.”
“One is somewhat hopeful he may come through,” Bren said. “He has impressed the young gentleman and the aiji-consort. And Lord Tatiseigi. I may say—I have dealt with far less agreeable lords through the years.”
“Cenedi himself is not unfavorable to him. But we all remain cautious. Do not meet him alone, Bren-ji.”
“I do nothing alone on this outing, Nichi-ji. I do not say I am alarmed, but I am spending my idle time constructing dire scenarios. I do not have enough facts to distract me. When am I to meet the lord of Senjin, and do I interview him in advance of the dowager?”
“It is my understanding there will be a social hour,” Banichi said.
“A social hour.” The before-dinner ritual, for a state occasion. The dowager would, in effect, throw a small party before dinner, in which they would all be constrained to smile and behave. “Is the lady invited? Or the daughter?”
“They may be,” Banichi said. “They may specifically be invited.”
To a social hour with Machigi—with the dowager. One felt a twinge of pity for the accompanying family.
But it was why they had come.
22
Dinner with Father and Mother meant one’s almost-best, the very best being reserved for public occasions. It also meant a nice dinner brought in for staff, which was a happy occasion. Cajeiri had tried to excuse his younger aishid from duty—it was only to the dining room, in the heart of the household, and with absolutely reliable people about, but his staff was determined, having just been given recognition, to dress him properly and attend him properly. Eisi and Liedi still served as his valets, but they were wearing their new coats, with cuff and collar lace, and feeling very proud, looking forward to presiding at their own table, set up with proper tableware and all, back in the new staff room.
Antaro and Jegari, Veijico and Lucasi would stand attendance with h
im, and they went out the door together, going down the main inner hall to the dining room just as Mother with her escort exited her own suite at the end of the hall.
Cajeiri waited, feeling uncommonly well put together and comfortable in his new arrangement, comfortable with Mother, finally. And being so, he waited for her, gave a little bow as they met.
“Honored Mother.”
“Son of mine. You are looking very handsome this evening.”
“I am very happy with the new staff. They are very good, and Eisi and Liedi are happy with the arrangement.”
“Are you making progress on finding Boji a place? I heard your father saying he might fund an improvement in the park you mentioned.”
“So he cannot get loose and bite anyone.—He is the gentlest fellow,” he added quickly, because Mother had always worried about his sister’s safety. “But if he was scared.”
“Well, one could not blame him for that,” Mother said. “I wish the little creature well. And a long life. Have you heard anything from Malguri?”
He was startled, surprised, dismayed all in one stroke, and it showed, he knew it did. He saw his mother’s face change—to perplexity, then—something else.
Mother had approved of him at Tirnamardi. Mother had been kind to him since then. Mother had been sympathetic about Boji.
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