Deceiver: Foreigner #11

by C. J. Cherryh

  Mani was not enthusiastic about going. In fact she vowed she was not going until trouble was proven to be on its way, or possibly until after trouble arrived. So all the servants were allowed to do was to get together Great-grandmother’s wardrobe and take that down. It was expensive, and bulky, and it all had to be safely hung.

  So that went down, boxes handed from servant to servant, because it would have been indecent for mani’s garments to be displayed on their way. They would be taken into storage, and they would be unpacked, and readied for wear . . .

  Granted mani ever consented to go down the stairs at all, which not even Cenedi could persuade her to do, yet.

  “You truly should, mani,” Cajeiri said very cautiously.

  “Hush!” mani said. And that was that. Cajeiri felt his ear smart even across the room.

  So he took himself and Antaro and Jegari out into the hall again to see the stairs clogged with downbound packets of mani’s baggage.

  Immediately after those, of course, all the historic pieces in all the rooms had to go down—and then all the spare storerooms were filled, so the servants had to move out all the food, boxes, and jars and sacks of it, from other storerooms and take that up into the kitchen upstairs and the kitchen downstairs, so one aisle of each was filled with supplies clear to the rafters, and canisters were set on the cabinets and the second and third stoves in the main kitchens. It was an impressive lot of food. There certainly seemed no danger of them starving.

  Then the most fragile porcelains and the hangings had to go downstairs into all the storage they had just cleared. So did all the handmade draperies, which had to be taken down, and the hand-knotted carpets, which had to be rolled up, exposing the stone and wood flooring that one never saw except around the edges: it was a whole new Najida. There was one manufactured carpet, in the dining hall, which staff said just had to take its chances. But every one of the porcelains had to be individually padded up in pillows—there were a lot of those—and bedded down with the folded hangings. The ancient tea set had to go down, specially: it had a box of lacquered wood.

  And then the historic furniture in the sitting room had to go down. Ramaso was really, really clever at telling how to stack it like a puzzle, and with padding between surfaces, so it took up far less space than seemed likely.

  Everybody had a cold lunch: Great-grandmother readily agreed that that would do for her; but Cook said he was working on hot soup for supper, along with more cold bread and some pickle: it would be an odd kind of supper, but Cajeiri personally hoped they would all get to eat it in peace and that nand’ Bren and nand’ Geigi would be back in the morning, and most of all that his father’s Guild would sort things out and kick the Marid troublemakers clear back to their own towns. He had seen enough of people shooting up places in his life: he was out of all curiosity how that went. He hoped if people were going to be shot at that his father’s men did all the shooting, this time, and that nobody from Great-grandmother’s guard got involved, and most of all that if there was going to be more shooting on Najida grounds, they did all the shooting far out beyond the gardens, where nothing that belonged to nand’ Bren would get broken.

  He wished at the same time that they would find nand’ Toby’s lady Barb, and that she would not be dead out there somewhere in the fields around the house.

  That was the worst thought, and not fortunate at all, so he tried not to think it, even if Great-grandmother called it stupid superstition to believe that thinking about a bad thing could make it happen.

  Think about bad things so you keep them from happening, mani would say.

  Well, he was thinking about quite a few bad things. He had been thinking about them all day, and he was very tired by the time he went back to watching over nand’ Toby. His bodyguard was tired, too, though all of them were trying not to show it.

  Then the walls shook. There was a deep boom from somewhere outside.

  He looked at Jegari and Antaro, who had jumped to their feet.

  “What is that?” Toby asked, and tried to sit up. Cajeiri moved to stop him.

  “I don’t know,” he said in ship-speak. “It’s all right.”

  But it wasn’t. It was high time for mani to get downstairs, was what.

  “Gari-ji, stay with him,” he said. And: “Taro, come with me.”

  They had the bus for transport—thanks to their number. Bren would have preferred something a shade less conspicuous than that ruby red bus with shiny new paint. But they had more than ten of the aiji’s men, at the last: his aishid had talked to Hanari, who was the senior of Tabini-aiji’s forces on site, and Hanari, who could perhaps have vetoed the whole idea, or wanted to confirm it with Tabini, did no such thing. He assigned ten of his force to go with them on that rolling target and they brought aboard communications and a classified lot of other gear.

  Sixteen of the aiji’s men were staying with Geigi, to augment his small staff, and meanwhile the subclan had sent a representative up to Targai to offer its assistance, since all the Guild serving the Maschi had either died in the firefight or vanished toward what border one could guess.

  “We have uncovered a sorry mess here, Bren-ji,” Geigi said, at the steps of the bus as they were loading. “And one understands the need for haste, and one understands why you have involved yourself, but you are already injured. Take greatest care.”

  “One hopes to.” Bren earnestly did hope to. And he hoped to stay out of any firefight. But one understood the technicalities of why he had to be with the team. With him on the bus, the responsibility was his, and it was not the aiji taking action. It was the paidhi-aiji moving on a personal grievance, which, with his presence in the field of action, did not require the formality of a Filing of Intent with the Guild. Filing that paper would have taken hours—and if granted, it would expose his household to a legitimate counter from the Marid. With Barb in the hands of kidnappers, it was still the rule of hot pursuit, and they could even cross a border region without breaking the law. So yes, he understood that part.

  He didn’t understand what they were going to do once they ran down the kidnappers, which, the more they delayed getting underway, the more likely would not happen on Maschi land. That part was still a little hazy.

  But he had a nape of the neck suspicion that the aiji, well aware what was going on, was going to politick hard with the Guild to act on the aiji’s personal Filing against Machigi—a campaign that would gather urgent moral force once some Marid agent actually took a shot at the paidhi-aiji. He might have to cross that border on personal privilege. He was taking with him Guild who had a very different reason for crossing that border, and a very different target.

  It was so good to be of service.

  “You take most extreme care, Geigi-ji. And should this not work out auspiciously—”

  “Say no such thing, Bren-ji! But be sure that I am your ally in this and I shall bend every influence I have to secure your holdings coastward as well as my own. These rascals have annoyed us long enough!”

  Geigi’s influence, on earth and in the heavens, was no mean commodity, and Geigi’s wit and persuasion and the extent of his connections were nothing at all to disparage. Bren bowed in deep courtesy as the bus engine started up. “My estimable ally. One will not forget this. And keep that waistcoat on, Geigi-ji, at all hours, one begs you! Stay safe!”

  He wore his own bulletproof vest. He was so damnably sore and bruised he could hardly make the first atevi-scale step onto the bus, and had to have Geigi push him up from behind. At the next step, he had Jago’s help from above, and he got into his seat with the thought that, God, it hurt, and it was going to be a very long and bumpy bus ride. He had a folded silk scarf between his ribs and the vest at the sorest spot. The skin was not broken, and he was relatively sure the ribs were not broken. The general support the vest afforded was welcome enough, but its weight was scaled to atevi strength, it was hot, his head hurt from the fall—he’d hit a chair on his way down, he was relatively sure of it,
he was dizzy, and it was a moment after he sat down before he could get his breath just from the climb into the bus.

  Banichi and Jago were in the opposing seat. Tano and Algini and their gear were in the pair of seats across the aisle. And that considerable and formidable force, ten of Tabini’s finest, was with them.

  Not to mention a very quiet young Guildsman sitting midway on the bus, allowed to be with them—but not included in the deliberations. Lucasi no longer had information to give—and he only entertained the hope that they might locate his sister, and Barb-daja, and maybe be in a good enough mood to give him another chance.

  Had they had no more force than the paidhi’s own to carry on the search, they would have parked the bus still in Sarini province, on reaching that border region, and used their position to try to attract attention—and an approach from Barb’s kidnappers, a far, far more delicate operation.

  With the aiji’s men supporting the operation—they were in a position to make a stronger demand in negotiation: give her back, or we open the doors of this bus and let ten Guild agents into Taisigi territory. The Taisigi at that point might see an advantage in restoring the status quo ante, meaning giving Barb back and getting a mobile Ragi base out of their territory.

  It was going to be dicey, if it came to that. But added force, and the aiji’s already Filed Intent, offered a real chance of success, both in retrieving Barb, and Lucasi’s partner.

  The bus rolled into motion, and jolted, and that was just the way the next number of hours were going to go, Bren said to himself. Jago and Banichi spread out a map, discussing it with Tano and Algini, who got up to have a look. Bren couldn’t personally see what they were talking about, which apparently involved points of hazard and potential ambush, and the point at which Sarini Province melded into the Marid lands.

  At the moment he was content to breathe, and questioned his sanity being here.

  Machigi did not have a reputation as a fool. There was that.

  Machigi either knew by now or was going to find out very soon what had happened to a Marid operation in Targai.

  And what happened next would be up to Tabini and Machigi: Machigi’s advantage, to conduct a cold war with impunity, was evaporating with every bus-length they advanced toward his district, and Machigi would be up against it—with four other Marid lords watching the outcome and measuring their own chances of making a power grab if Machigi went down.

  Atevi politics at its finest behaved in a moderately human way.

  He didn’t bet this action wouldn’t see someone else attack Machigi in this little window of opportunity they provided.

  One shouldn’t bet on that at all.

  Mani was not budging. Mani’s guard on the roof said that the explosion they had heard had been out on the main road, and they said it involved a truck, far up toward the intersection with the Najida road, and she did not need to go downstairs.

  Cenedi was not happy with mani not budging from upstairs.

  Cenedi was not at all happy, either, with three young fools being upstairs finding out what was going on. And Cajeiri felt guilty about leaving nand’ Toby downstairs just with the doctor, seeing nand’ Toby could not talk to the doctor, but it was clear something was going on—something that had mani upset and Cenedi furious.

  Cenedi had sent men outside and up the road to find out what was going on, and evidently some of the Edi who were guarding the road had gone out to find out what had happened, because then there was a phone call from the village. Najida was sending the village truck up to the accident, and Cenedi told them drive overland and stay off the road.

  Then Cenedi headed for the operations center and shut the door right in their faces, so that was unusual.

  It was clear no information was coming out of there.

  And they had none even when Cenedi stormed out and down the hall to meet the returning truck under the portico. Villagers showed up at the door with injured people from the accident.

  Cenedi whirled about. “Escort your lord downstairs,” Cenedi said to Antaro and Jegari, with no courtesy at all. “And tell nand’ Siegi we need him up here immediately.”

  “Please,” Jegari said, tugging at Cajeiri’s sleeve. “Please, nandi.”

  “Now!” Cenedi said.

  It was time to move, and upstairs did need nand’ Siegi, urgently. Cajeiri headed for the stairs without argument, ahead of Antaro and Jegari, and ran the distance to nand’ Toby’s room, to pass that word to nand’ Siegi: “Nandi, there are injured people. Cenedi asks you come. Quickly. We will be with nand’ Toby.”

  “He should sleep, young gentleman. Keep silence here.” Nand’ Siegi was on his way out the door, and shut it.

  And there they were. Something had blown up on the road, and Guild and non-Guild were hurt. And nand’ Bren was out there somewhere, and mani was upset and Cenedi was acting as tense and upset as Cajeiri had ever seen him, not even when bullets were flying.

  It was more than a little scary, and it seemed like things were not going at all well. Cajeiri looked about him, somewhat at a loss, and then did take the chair by nand’ Toby’s bed, and Jegari and Antaro sat down in the other two chairs, and there they stayed in silence for a moment.

  Then Cajeiri signed, Guild-sign, “Go upstairs, Taro-ji, and find out.”

  “Yes,” she signed back, and was up and out the door.

  Toby stirred, and opened his eyes a bit as the door shut.

  “It’s all right,” Cajeiri said. “Hush, go back to sleep, nandi. Everything is fine.”

  “Heard an explosion.” That was what he thought Toby had said.

  “No problem.” Cajeiri lied as cheerfully as he could. “All finished. Cenedi took care of it.”

  “Where’s Bren?”

  “With Geigi-nandi. All safe. All fine. You sleep.”

  “Doctor gave me something,” Toby said, and his eyes drifted shut again.

  Which was evidently what nand’ Siegi intended, and probably nand’ Siegi had given him something to make that happen. But nand’ Siegi was busy upstairs, and there were wounded people and they had no information at all.

  It took forever before Antaro came back and opened the door very quietly. She signaled them to come outside to hear, and Cajeiri beckoned Jegari to confirm that he should come, too. So they all three stood outside the door and Jegari shut it very carefully behind him.

  “It was some of the aiji’s men coming up the Kajiminda road in a truck with some of the local people,” Antaro said in a low voice, “and somebody put explosives in the road where anybody could hit it, which is illegal. And there is an Edi camp over in Kajiminda, and Guild in uniform came in with guns and kidnapped a five-year-old boy. Cenedi has called the Guild and asked them to call a Guild Council meeting.”

  “So can they do anything about it?” Cajeiri asked.

  “He is asking the Guild to outlaw these Guildsmen.”

  “File Intent on them?”

  “Outlawry is worse than Intent,” Antaro said in a voice that all but vibrated with shock. “Much worse.”

  “If you are outlawed from the Guild, nandi,” Jegari said, “the Guild will hunt you down. The illegal Guild used this, in their time in power. They outlawed any Guildsmen that supported your father, during the Troubles. And they would hunt them down and in any shelter, even places they had no business going.”

  “None of the hunters that got into Taiben got out again,” Antaro said. “Taibeni took care of them. Our woods are our woods.”

  “Some of your father’s Guild who were outlawed came to us,” Jegari said, “and we got them safely to the north, and to the mountains. We young people are not supposed to know that,” Jegari added. “But we did know.”

  “So if they outlaw these people, Guild will go into the Marid to get these people? How is that different than Intent?”

  “It is different,” Antaro said, “because it is not just our Guild against their Guild. It will be the whole Guild. Everybody against the lord of the Taisigin M
arid and his Guildsmen.”

  That was a scary concept. The lord and everybody.

  “But what about Lucasi and Veijico?” he asked. “One needs to know where Lucasi and Veijico went! I no longer trust them, but maybe they were kidnapped, too! And one needs to know who is out there blowing up trucks, nadiin-ji!” His voice had risen somewhat and he quickly lowered it. “Cenedi will get angry, Taro-ji, if you go on asking. So Jegari and I will go up. He will have to start all over with being mad if he catches us. Stay with nand’ Toby. If he wakes and asks a question, say this: ‘Cajeiri is upstairs asking questions.’ ”

  “Cajeiri is up-stairs. Ask-ing—”

  “Questions.” That was not an easy word to pronounce. Cajeiri paused on one foot. “Just say ‘asking.’ He will know.”

  He left, then, with Jegari hurrying close behind him. It was important to get upstairs and, if they could manage it, into mani’s suite, before things changed upstairs. And with Cenedi in a bad frame of mind, and mani upset, things upstairs could change in the blink of an eye.

  They reached the top of the stairs. There was a trail of blood right down the hall, and nobody had cleaned it up, though there were servants hurrying the other way. Guards stood at mani’s door—but one was Nawari, so he just walked up, said, “Nadi,” bowed, and grabbed the latch before Nawari could say a thing.

  He got through. Jegari did not.

  And mani was in the room with a young Edi villager, clearly doing business, which was not good to walk in on.

  He stopped still and bowed, Great-grandmother paying him no attention whatsoever, and after a second Nawari let Jegari on through to stand by him.

  “You shall do so, nadi,” mani said to the young man, who bowed deeply and took his leave, passing Cajeiri with a bow.

  Not a good moment. Great-grandmother picked up a teacup and had a sip of tea, not even looking at him.

  So probably the better part of common sense was to quietly inch back out that door and disappear for hours. But the second best thing to do was to stand very, very still until Great-grandmother, quite slowly, had finished that cup of tea and the servant, standing near the fireplace, had poured her another.