“Gods unfortunate! I knew it!”
“Forgive me, Geigi-ji. This is only my surmise.”
“No, go on, go on, Bren-ji! I want to hear this! I want to hear it all!”
“Her death was too opportune for the Marid. Your sister was astute in most matters. Not so your nephew. That may have drawn them in.”
Geigi heaved a mournful sigh, shaking his head. “She was not in good health. One had not thought. And that boy, that unspeakable boy—”
“Forgive me, nandi, but I rather blame his gullibility.”
“Gullibility and greed together. His mother, in my last calls to her, and hers to me, had been allowing him certain duties, and she claimed he was fulfilling them with some promise. Now one suspects—gods, one suspects—she allowed him some management, and he brought a Marid Assassin under the roof! Murder, Bren-ji! His own mother! Gods above, one does not wish to believe that, even of him!”
“One does not believe he knew,” Bren said. “I think that he was genuinely grieved at your sister’s passing. And very much alone at that point. But he had associates to rush to him and console him and advise him . . . in those months when communications with the world were cut off.”
During Murini’s administration, when Tabini had been overthrown, and the shuttles had stopped flying, and communication with the space station had stopped.
“We were receiving intelligence relayed up from Mospheira,” Geigi said, “but from the south coast, we had nothing in those days, nothing but reports of unrest and resistence action. He was claiming her post—he was all I had in place. I had no way to intervene.”
“One so regrets it, Geigi-ji.”
“And I so worried for that boy’s sake! I sent him letters of advice and encouragement the moment the blackout ended. I actually sent him my understanding this winter when he missed the court session. He must have laughed at that.”
“One thinks, rather, nandi-ji, he grew afraid, and perhaps had the wit to be afraid not only of you. Perhaps he grew afraid for you should you come down to the world and walk into the situation he had created. He fears you to this day. He fears you extremely. He is terrified at the dowager’s apprehension of his crimes; but he is mortally terrified of you. So far as a human can possibly judge, he still does not understand the magnitude of what his allies have done, let alone what they still intend. Mostly, in his eyes, as I suspect—he would still find greater importance in the world by this marriage with the Marid girl. The status of that match would somehow make you respect him. The implication that these people may have assassinated his mother—I did tell him what I suspect—has hit him hard, if a human is any judge of that at all.”
Geigi’s eyes, deep set in, for an ateva, an extraordinarily plump face, were both quick and thoughtful. He pursed his lips and nodded. “You need not deprecate your perception of us, Bren-ji. The paidhi-aiji is not without skill in reading us. I can accept he is grieved: she doted on him, all but fed him from her plate as if he were three, and told him every move to make. She greatly exaggerated his accomplishments in her calls to me: I knew that, if nothing else. Now he is alone and unadvised. Consequences he thought he would never see are coming down on his head and his mother is not here to cover his sins. Miss her? Infelicitous gods, of course he misses her!” A deep, deep breath. “What else do you read in him, paidhi-aiji?”
“That he has to this hour no real apprehension that the world has changed.” He drew a deep breath. “For the Marid’s help in seizing power, Murini did not reward Machigi of the Tasigin. Whatever Murini’s failings, he was never that great a fool. Murini apparently told the Marid to keep their hands off the west coast—I have no proof, but suspect it—and the Marid decided to proceed in their usual way, by stealth, to get their way—they were already moving. Your sister was only their first target. They were plotting to take the whole west coast. I think they had been after that, even before they prompted Murini to seize Shejidan.”
“Building a power base, by doubling the size of their lands, that would almost equal the central and northern clans combined. At that point—they would be as powerful as the aishidi’tat.”
“Murini would not have been able to withstand them once they had that secure,” Bren said, “and if they should succeed now, even with Tabini back in power—they would still pose an immense threat. That is what the aiji-dowager sees, I believe. Tabini-aiji will not quite admit it, but I think he has been playing the Marid, trying to figure what they are up to, where the next strike will come, and has seen every complicated possibility except the rural west coast. And the key to controlling the west coast is—”
“My clan’s treaty with the Edi people.”
“Exactly so. Murini’s supporters—notably the Marid—did not attack my estate during the Troubles, when small coups had taken the mayoralties of little fishing villages clear up in the Isles. That is what I find most suspicious . . . two large estates, and no move from the Marid against the property of either of us, who were most notably their enemies. The Edi say it was because the Marid was afraid to start a war with them. I think differently. I think the Marid objective was always Kajiminda, for themselves, and they were going after it covertly, against Murini’s orders. When Tabini retook the capital, the Marid suddenly took a very soft approach with Tabini-aiji, claiming they had a revised view of the world—but from what we see here, they kept right on going with their plan. They were going to marry their way into Kajiminda, your nephew was going to fall ill, the Marid wife would run things, and then the Marid, behaving ever so nicely in Shejidan, was going to claim Najida through the same inheritance connection with the Maladesi that won them my apartment in the city. Nobody in Shejidan thinks the rural coast is that important. The revenge on me, putting me on the losing side of Bujavid politics, would be particularly pleasant to them—but the fact is, they really do have that distant claim. It is at least arguable. The legislature might insist, to settle the peace for good and all. And there we would be, with the Marid quietly, one step at a time, taking over the west coast, never making a fuss, becoming so, so agreeable and always appearing to be working within the laws. I would be shifted over to some other property the aiji would give me to compensate, probably in another district, and nobody would be set up to handle the Edi’s interests, except the newly reformed Marid, who are their worst enemies—and does the Ragi center of the country think that a problem? No. Tabini-aiji has had to rebuild the association brick by brick. Every little interest has some little claim they want addressed, out of the aiji’s gratitude for their support, of course; but the aishidi’tat is a maze of conflicting claims—an absolute mess, in fact. The Farai claim on the Maladesi inheritance—my properties—is one of a hundred such. How can they be more suspect than any other, after all this upheaval?”
Geigi stared at him, thought it over, and finally heaved an angry sigh. “It makes sense. Gods less fortunate, it makes awful sense, Bren-ji. Have you told all this to the aiji?”
“I have not told the aiji, but my aishid and the dowager’s have surely relayed our suspicions to the aiji’s men.” Information necessarily flowed through protected channels. One did not make pronouncements without proof behind the statement: one hinted, and it was the Guild that investigated such things. “And now you are here. We are so very glad, Geigi-ji.”
“One begins to understand.”
“Here is the concrete proof we have: my aishid has informed me, and the aiji now knows, that the Guild that had operated at Kajiminda were not Maschi. They were from the Marid. Second: there was an assassination in Separti Township. It was unattributed. Baiji claims to know it was Marid agents. The turning point of his understanding, so he said to me, was when he tried to put the first visitors off. He falsely claimed he had a verbal understanding with a young lady south of Separti—and that whole family was assassinated.”
“Gods less fortunate!”
“Indeed. He claims he has constantly found other ways to stall them, claiming he was in mourning for h
is mother, claiming various things, but the Marid were insistent. You, on the station, were dropping relay stations from space during the Troubles. You were setting up a satellite network to threaten Murini’s regime. You were bringing cell phone technology to Mospheira—it was quite clear that you were trying to encourage someone to take out Murini. So fearing that the tide might turn at any moment and possibly fearing the rumors that Tabini was not dead, the Marid accelerated their demands on your nephew and set up a base in the township before we returned from space. At a certain point, they were going to force that marriage, and your nephew, do him credit, was still stalling even after Tabini-aiji turned up alive. Was still stalling, even this late, when I came to visit. If he had had the courage, he could have gone out on the boat, sailed over to Najida, and trusted my staff to get him safely to Shejidan. But he did not. I admit my affairs are complex—and confusing even to my staff, who did not know where I stood, but—”
“One is absolutely aghast and appalled, Bren-ji.”
“The dowager has promised her support of a house and a lordship for the Edi—you do know that.”
“The dowager has made this proposal?”
“One was certain the aiji would have told you.”
“The aiji mentioned there was some local proposal sent up for such a move. I thought it was you!”
“It was the dowager’s proposal and her idea from the beginning. I had no idea she would do it.”
“Well, well. I am not, myself, opposed to it.” Geigi’s face grew sad, the offering of true feelings between old associates, as he dropped any pretense of impassivity. “I have my household on the station. There is my best service to the aishidi’tat, for now and in the foreseeable future. They cannot do without me up there, Bren-ji. Perhaps I should cede Kajiminda to the Edi. They would treat it well. Certainly better than my nephew has done. Those things that are Maschi treasures—let them go back to the clan estate at Targai.”
“Wait on that,” Bren said. “Wait, to be sure of your feelings in the matter, honored neighbor; and if I must plead the aiji’s case—preserve the aishidi’tat’s options by holding the treaty as it stands. The relationship between your Maschi clan and the Edi is a great asset in the aishidi’tat. That Kajiminda remain in Maschi hands—is part of that treaty. Building an Edi house, however—this would be my suggestion . . . supposing, of course, that the aiji does grant this lordship. And I do think he will.”
“The firestorm in the legislature can only be imagined,” Geigi said with a great sigh, and that was the truth. “The inland lords will certainly oppose it. Ragi clan itself will have apoplexies. The Marid—”
“Indeed, the Marid.”
Geigi’s eyes had widened. “They will bolt from the Association. They will declare war. Is this ’Sidi-ji’s desire?”
“It is certainly the likelihood. Things will change when this becomes public. The relationship the Marid has to the aishidi’tat has given us several wars and a coup, and in my opinion, things must change, so that we have no future coup. Perhaps I am too reckless. But the dowager supports this notion, and I am with her on this matter. See what you have walked into, Geigi-ji.”
“Bold. Bold, to say the least.”
“Should you wish to return to the capital—”
“By no means! I wish to be part of this!”
“We will weather the storm,” Bren said. “This region will weather it, and the aishidi’tat will emerge from this, one hopes, with the addition of an ally it can truly trust—the Edi and the Gan peoples—rather than the South, which has attempted to break up the Association from its outset. So if the five clans of the Marid bolt from the Association, good riddance. That is my view, and the dowager’s, I am convinced. Your support in this matter would speak with a definitive voice—and I personally, would be very much relieved. I value your good opinion, and your judgement, and this is why I have come out to meet you here, and not in Najida, and to have this talk with you: to tell you what has gone on, and what is being arranged, personally to beg your help—and to give you the opportunity to catch the train back to Shejidan without setting foot in Najida under these circumstances, should that be your choice.”
Geigi looked at him with a directness and emotion rare in his class and his kind. “One will never forget this gesture, Bren-ji. One will not forget this extraordinary respect.”
“To a greatly valued associate, in a relationship which has stood many, many tests, Geigi-ji. I have the utmost trust in your wisdom and your honesty. Our mutual connections to the aiji and to the aiji-dowager can do a great deal to stabilize this district—at a time when, we both know, in events in the heavens, stability of the aishidi’tat is absolutely critical.”
“There was a time you had great reason to distrust Kajiminda; and there was a time I had a Marid wife, and there was a time when I myself trod the outskirts of the aiji’s good will. And yet you have consistently trusted me, Bren-ji. You bewilder me.”
“I have trusted you despite those things. And still do, Geigi-ji.” He added, in Mosphei’, which they had not used: “Humans are crazy like that.”
“Crazy,” Geigi echoed him, “means so many things. Now I am an aging lord, with my estate in disarray. Why have you trusted me? You cannot think favors buy favor when clan is involved. You know us far better than that, and you are above all no fool, Bren-ji.”
He smiled. “A few months ago some would have called me a fool to stand by Tabini-aiji. The odds were everywhere against him. I have this most irrational pleasure in your company and this perfectly rational trust in your judgement. You could have declared yourself aiji, in the heavens. And yet you did not, did you, Geigi-ji?”
“I love my comforts too much to be aiji. It is a very uncomfortable office.”
“You see? You saved the whole aishidi’tat, Geigi-ji. Had Tabini actually been lost—you would have held fast. And that proposition has no doubt.”
“Ha! If I had been put to it, I would have found an aiji and named him.”
“And the world, I have every confidence, would have listened. Your power is inconvenienced, but not at all in ruins. You are held in greatest respect, not alone among atevi.”
“You are very generous, Bren-ji.”
“I am accurate. Why do you suppose the aiji-dowager favors you?”
“Ha!” Geigi laughed outright. “What was between me and ’Sidi-ji certainly does not apply in your case, Bren-ji.”
“Then say we both favor her, and we both know that if we were irrelevant she would not bother with us, and if either one of us merited her disapproval, neither of us would breathe the air. She is our ultimate judge, Geigi-ji!”
A laugh, silent, and thoughtful. “’Sidi-ji. Yes.” A flicker of the eyes. “There is ’Sidi-ji. If she does not yet call me a fool, then I suppose I may indeed weather this.”
“You shall. One insists on it!”
“She came. With the young lord.”
“The young lord came to visit me. She came to see to him. Likewise my brother and his lady, who were visiting when this whole untoward situation presented itself.”
“Shall I see them all, then? I have longed to meet your brother!”
“My brother and Barb-daja will come up to dinner, very likely, which I assure you will be extravagant in your honor. One has given those orders.” He had, in fact, ordered every local delicacy Geigi would have missed all these years. “The actual accommodations I fear are cramped: Najida is a small estate, and my bodyguard now lodges in the library, and my brother and his lady stay on their boat in the harbor.”
“One trusts my nephew is by no means honored with a suite, under such circumstances!”
“Nandi, we have lodged him in a servant’s room in the basement, where there are no windows.”
“Good!” Geigi said, taking a sip of the new drink that had turned up under his hand. “I shall be extremely grateful to stay under your roof tonight, Bren-ji, myself and my staff. We may have no little work to do at Kajiminda, but I am i
ndeed feeling fortified, hearing how things are taken care of.”
“One delights to hear it.”
“The young lord, whom I saw so briefly last year—the boy must be approaching his fortunate birthday.”
“In two months,” Bren said. Nine, following the unnameable eighth, was a very felicitous birthday, and at times they had despaired of Cajeiri ever reaching that happy year. “He has grown in very many ways, Geigi-ji, even in the months since you saw him. He has lately become quite the young gentleman, with encouraging signs of keen judgement.”
5
It would have been far, far more fun to be on the new bus looking out the windows and trying out all the interesting features.
But Great-grandmother had nipped that notion before Cajeiri had even laid his plans.
“Nand’ Bren will deal better with his neighbor without a distraction present. They have distressing matters to discuss.” Great-grandmother meant about Baiji-nadi being locked in the basement and them being shot at and almost killed. He could tell nand’ Geigi a thing or two about that, first-hand.
But probably that would be pert. That was his great-grandmother’s word for it, when he got beyond himself.
So his information was not welcome on the bus.
And there was nothing to do, at present, since they were all locked in the house, nothing that was really interesting, because he could not draw back the slingshota to its full stretch, not without risking ricochets that would hit nand’ Bren’s woodwork, which had already had enough damage from bullets.
So he grew bored with that, and even when he gave turns with the slingshota to his bodyguard, his aishid—they could get no real practice at it in such limited circumstances.
They all wanted to go out into the garden, where they could really let fly—but the doors were kept locked, even when there were village workmen repairing the portico out there (one could hear the hammering all morning.)
Deceiver: Foreigner #11 Page 8
