Her rider didn't stop her. That made her happier still; and Jase's mechieta stayed with her.
Next switchback. "Nadiin," Jago said, riding near Bren, as Banichi came on Jase's far side. "If we come under fire, stay on. Our security is holding the road into town, and it will not be Guild opposing us, but all the same, present as low a profile as possible. There is a chance of Kadigidi partisans."
It was never hard to pick out the leaders in an old-fashioned atevi cavalry charge. It never had been. It was part of the ethic — and maybe, Bren thought, among other feaiful thoughts, that risk kept wars to a minimum, in a species where the leaders went first, not hindmost. The gun knocked hard against his ribs as the dowager let Babsidi gather speed. Nokhada was right on the front rank with Babsidi. Cenedi's mechieta was; and Jase's; and Banichi's and Jago's. As they reached the lowest part of the road they were running nearly all-out, security maneuvering only to put their bodies between their charges and the likelihood of snipers as the road let out onto a town highway.
A human might not be wired to know what passions it could touch off in the hearts of atevi instinct-driven to follow such a leader as Ilisidi was. He'd seen the maneuver in the machimi plays, he recalled that, the mad dash of riders across a landscape, a move he'd understood for a dramatic convention, but which often preceded a sort-out, a realization of atevi loyalties.
But as they came into the streets of the township of Saduri, he felt real emotion gathering in him. Hadn't the waving of a flag, the call of a trumpet meant something to humans once? They couldn't but follow. No matter whether Ilisidi or the atevi she led rationally knew what she was invoking — this human felt it.
A shot from somewhere blasted white chips of plaster from a building onto what was now black, starlit pavement ahead of them; and fire racketed back at that source from riders all around him. From another answering source more fire broke out somewhere ahead on the road. He was aware every smallish rider in their group was a target. He knew he was supposed to keep his head down and he knew that using the gun he carried and putting his head up to do it was a stupid risk — but in his heart-pounding excitement Jago's warning at the start was all that held him from such foolishness.
Do what Jago said. Listen to his security. Get through this alive and take down the ones who'd threatened him and his the way he could deal with them, not with a gun, but by getting to what they wanted before they did, and interdicting them from everything they intended tonight.
A flare went off behind them, a brilliant burst of light that threw them all into silhouette. Then he hoped the Guild workers, caught on the road above this fire-fight, had the sense to take cover. They'd stirred no random fools but an ambush. Tabini's men were not in possession of this area. They passed side streets that would lead to the harbor, each one of which could become a shooting gallery.
Then a single small light blinked ahead of them and a second red one, twice, to the right.
That might surely be signals of their own allies. Abruptly, Ilisidi took Babsidi around a corner, down a ghostly deserted street, and rode hellbent through the heart of a not-quite-sleeping town toward the harbor.
"Aiji-ma!" someone cried from a window above the street and others yelled it. But the street was dark.
"Go!" shadows yelled at them from an intersection, in utter darkness. " 'Sidi-ji! Go! Go! Go!"
The darkness of the streets gave way to open night sky and hills and the sheen of water, and they went toward that gap. A light flashed in a window above the street, near the end of the block, and when they reached that open harborside, other atevi shadows appeared with that same flashing of lights, some white, some red, in a pattern that must silently tell Ilisidi and the Guild with them what was critical for them to know.
Ilisidi stopped on harborside against a weather-shelter. A sign by the water and another on the railing said Ferry, and gave a departure schedule, but there was no ferry there for them.
A boat was coming, however. Not a ferry, if one could judge who'd only seen them on television, but a fair-sized boat, just the same.
"Is that someone we want?" Jase asked faintly, having seen it too, as mechieti all around them breathed and blew and harness creaked. One could just make out the spreading disturbance of the boat's wake, as, against a shadow of low hills well across the water, it made its way on a diagonal toward them.
"Late," Ilisidi breathed. "After all these years, every damned appointment, Geigi is still late, damn him!" She signaled Babsidi to extend a leg, and got down — a glistening dark trail was on her hand, and Cenedi wanted immediately to see to it, but: "It's a damned plaster-chip," she said. "The man's revised his arrival time three times — half an hour more, he says, and he's still late!"
Bren slid down and Haduni got down, but in the meanwhile Ilisidi was back among the mechieti, looking for more injuries.
One mechieta had taken a fairly extensive injury on the flank. Two riders had been hit, one a trivial matter, one man with a serious amount of bleeding and a broken arm, which by no means improved her mood.
"I want this woman," Ilisidi said. "Damn this fool! Damn, damn, damn! — Can someone get this man to hospital?"
"Help is coming," Jago said. They had risked the pocket corns, she and Banichi, so it seemed.
And indeed dark figures were moving on the street, figures that shouted to each other and brought timid ventures from the buildings along the way. More supporters joined them, townsfolk or maybe Guild. But by this time the victim was swearing that he could very well walk to the hospital, which was just down the street. They could see the lighted sign from here. People who called themselves local residents were offering respects to the aiji-dowager in an outpouring of support, loudly wishing to carry the wounded man and to take the injured mechieta to the doctors, too.
Haduni provided them answers and directions.
Cenedi and Banichi were giving orders to the ferry personnel, who had shown up uncertain whether their services could be of use, and very willing to support the woman they recklessly called 'Sidi-ji.
In the meanwhile Jase was safely down and on two feet, and Ilisidi was muttering about the modern age and modern leaders sitting safely in estates and offices looking at computer screens, as lord Geigi's boat cruised up to the ferry landing with a powerful slow thump of engines and a boil and wash of water.
For a fishing boat, Bren thought, it was pretty damned impressive.
Security came ashore first. Lord Geigi followed with an amazingly agile leap, as the ramp manned by the ferry personnel attempted to adjust to the height of his moving gangway.
"Late!" Ilisidi cried.
"The wind is up, nandi-ji! A hard west wind beyond the breakwater, which does make a difference! Was I to forecast intent to join you? The aiji was late, so I was late, the whole countryside is late, so the Kadigidi will be late, too!"
"You were to take the train and borrow the boats here!"
"Well, and the village of Kinsara has a carload of spring vegetables derailed on the grade on this side, so we had to take the boats all the way, and I've come to order boats out from Saduri, if I can get some of the good fisherfolk to give us a hand. — And good evening, paidhi-ji. Good evening to your associate. Come aboard! We've a cold supper if you've been in a hurry. It's a good half hour back to the breakwater against the wind, 'Siri's going to call in debts up and down the harborside. We'll get boats out there tonight, as many as you like."
Bren recognized Gesirimu among the handful who had come ashore, as shouts went out to get boats away and get the coastal road blocked.
"We have three boats out there holding off shore, but it's a dark, wide sea," Geigi said, "and I'll not say we can keep the Kadigidi from getting a boat past us. If we can intercept the rascals on the water we'll take fewer casualties."
"Some Kadigidi are here," Banichi said, "in the township. If we're unlucky we'll just have chased them to positions up the shore to warn their allies."
"Nothing for it," Cenedi said. "Sittin
g here gains us nothing. With a west wind blowing, lord Geigi, where would a Mospheiran craft come in, between here and Aidin?"
"Is it only Hanks-paidhi, all this mysterious goings-on?"
"Only Hanks indeed," Ilisidi said in disgust and, with Geigi, led the way to the heaving plank. The wind blew cold off the harbor, and the buffers squealed and groaned as the boat heaved against the shore.
"We're going looking for Hanks," Jase said faintly, at Bren's side. It was a question. It was despair. "What about any other boat? Can you ask him —"
"Take your pills," Bren said. "I'd take a double dose."
"You don't think she'd have survived the storm," Jase said. "Do you?"
"I don't know." He had resolved not to lie to Jase, but Jase had a way of going head-on to questions with bad answers. "She might not have gone out with the weather threatening. There've been planes out, and boats, all up and down the middle of the strait. Somebody could have picked her up if she did try. I don't give her up."
"Neither do I," Jase said resolutely. And added, with a desperate grip on the gangway rail. "But, Bren, the pills are gone."
"You can't have taken all of them!"
"I didn't. The bottle fell out of my pocket."
* * *
CHAPTER 26
« ^ »
Geigi had been communicating delays since the derailment of vegetables, which had happened, Geigi said, while he was at the train station at the Eli-jiri ferry dock waiting to take the train over the hills to Saduri to keep his appointment. At that point, realizing the train connection would not work, he'd made a call to his private boat, which was on its way back to Dalaigi, and advised them to come back to get him. The three neighbors who were stranded with him had called for their boats to fill the tanks for a long haul, and to come across to pick them up at Elijiri. Having crossed the Bay, their small fleet (consisting of two retired gentlemen, the lord of Dalaigi, and a middle-aged lady who had made her fortune in the jewelry business) had fueled again at the resort marina at Onondisi, so they were going to be capable of staying out.
Now, seated on soft cushioned chairs and couches, the dusty and sweaty company watched the lights of Saduri Township retreat from the stern windows. A strange way to go into a fight, Bren thought, as Geigi himself poured Ilisidi a small glass of cordial: the arm was, Ilisidi confessed, uncomfortable.
"I also have," Geigi said, "the name of the resort manager of Mist Island Tours, who says if there is a need that serves the man'chi of Sarini Province, he will publish a need for boats. The seas are rough and I would hesitate to encourage small craft tonight, but there are the harbor tour boats and their crews would willingly bring them out. They lack onboard radar, but they do have radio. I have only to give the orders."
"Do so," Ilisidi said. "I don't think we are operating in overmuch secrecy now. What the wind brings us, the wind will bring."
"May one —" Bren said quietly, "may one also request we call Dur at this point? There is more than Hanks. There's some chance that Mercheson-paidhi has fled the island, and if she's done so, it would be a very light craft. With the storm, as I remember the map — she'd be blown straight west."
"Southeast, nadi."
"I've heard how strong the current is," Bren said. "But the wind —"
"Out of the northwest. The storm and the current, nand' paidhi, one assures you."
"The storm was out of the west. It was in our faces when we were camped. Was it not, nadiin-ji?"
"Northwest, Bren-ji," Jago said. "The Mogari-nai headland doesn't lie parallel to that of the south. It faces northwest."
His whole land-sense had been wrong. He'd looked at the map and believed west.
"The cliff is weathered, nand' paidhi," lord Geigi said, "by uncounted storms that wear away the headland. By waves that dash against those rocks. It's a dangerous place in a heavy sea. But since centuries ago, when atevi made the breakwater to protect the harbor from silting, the sand has come in all along that stretch and stopped against the stones. What flotsam conies in there is washed out by the next storm, but with that blow night before this, I'd look at Saduri Beach above all else. And I'd say every other sailor on this coast would make the same conclusion."
"It's a government reserve," Ilisidi said. "Does no one on this shore respect the signs?"
"Certainly the wrecks don't," lord Geigi said. "Baji-naji, they come there, 'Sidi-ji. And so will anyone who needs to find them."
"Direiso's lot had a freighter in here two days ago," Cenedi said. "A shipment of four heavy trucks. They moved out tonight and headed up the road to the breakwater. So they are thinking in the same direction."
Lights were showing in the windows. Boats were standing away from the shore. Gesirimu had rallied the fishermen. Lord Geigi had ties to Saduri as well as to his neighbors in Onondisi Bay.
The Peninsula's north shore had joined Shejidan, this time, in opposing the dissolution of the northern provinces.
"Well, well," Geigi said, looking back over the cushion, "we shall have help." He turned and picked up his glass. "In the meanwhile, if anyone would care to wash away the dust of travel, there is a lavatory just forward and to the left."
Jase got up and went forward. Quickly.
"Excuse me," Bren said, and Banichi came with him, across a deck he didn't think too unsteady; but he feared Jase's stomach did. The door was shut.
Bren gave a weary sigh. And leaned against the wall as they waited.
"At least," Banichi said, "he's not as sick as you were with the tea."
He'd forgotten that.
Mercifully.
"Have we," he asked Banichi, because it was the first chance he'd had since they'd made contact with Geigi, "any difficulty at Patinandi?"
"No, no, no," Banichi said softly, "Geigi could hardly put on tight security, as if he had any reason to fear his good neighbors. But certainly if the dowager has requested lord Geigi's assistance here, with smugglers, Tabini has to provide support and security." Banichi flashed a grin. "How did you and Jago get along?"
Banichi caught him utterly by surprise, and speechless.
The door opened. Jase was there, water soaking his face and the front of his hair, which strung mostly loose.
"Can one go out on deck?" Jase asked. "I want to look at the water."
"One can, but you might fall in. It's quite deep. And it's dark out there."
"I want to go outside," Jase said.
Bren looked at Banichi, who slid a glance toward the door not far removed from where they stood. It let out on the deck and a narrow walk to the fishing deck at the stern or the foredeck in front of the bridge.
They were in the middle of the harbor and it was cold out there in the wind, he fully anticipated that; but he nodded, and went back to the group in the salon to catch Jago's eye.
"We're going outside a moment," he said. "Jase needs air."
"One does understand," Jago said, and joined him in his going back to the door and out onto the deck.
Banichi and Jase had gone to the foredeck. Jase stood at the very point of the bow, in the wind and the spray. He'd be soaked, Bren thought. Banichi was out of his mind, standing by him like that.
He and Jago walked up to the rail.
"How deep is it?" Jase asked, over the rush of water and the noise of the engines.
"Oh —" He had no real idea. He guessed, since security didn't come up with the answer. "About thirty meters."
"We're high up, then."
It was an odd way of looking at the ocean. "I suppose we are."
"If you fall in, do you go to the bottom?"
Now he knew the direction of Jase's thoughts. And didn't like it.
"The waves bring you to the shore," he said, and didn't know how to explain that fact of oceans to a man from space. "Jase? Don't give up on her."
"I'm not giving up," Jase said. "I won't. I couldn't be sick, Bren. I thought I was. But it's better at night. You can see the stars."
One could. The land was bl
ack on either side of them. The water shone. There was a black line reaching far out across the harbor mouth; a light stood at the end of it and a line of light shone across the waves. That was the breakwater, extending south from the cliffs. That was where the beach was,
"There are boats out there in the distance," Jago said, she of the sharp eyesight. He couldn't see them.
"Beyond the breakwater," Banichi said, and lifted an arm. "We'll go out and around, paidhiin-ji. The road is running beside us at the moment, at the foot of the cliffs over there. If we'd dared rely on Saduri or the Atageini lord, we should have left you both in the township."
"No," Bren said. "I'm glad we're here. Just — how are we going to get in to shore in this boat, nadiin? We can't beach it."
"A good question," Banichi said, but didn't answer. Bren tried again.
"Can we get ashore, nadiin-ji?"
"We will go ashore, Bren-ji," Jago said. "If we have to go in, which is by no means certain yet."
"With us, you will!"
"Listen to your security, Bren-ji. Always listen to your security."
"Damn it, I was with you at Malguri, I was with you at Taiben."
"My partner," Jase said. "Nadiin, my partner and Hanks-paidhi. Out there."
"Bad numbers," Banichi said. "No."
"You're not a 'counter," Bren said, "nadi. I know you're not. Four is a perfectly fine number."
Banichi laughed and looked at the open sea ahead of them.
"You need translators, if it's humans involved."
"Jago-ji," Banichi said, "you stay with them. Felicitous three."
"No," Jago said.
"Your duty, Jago-ji. Someone has to keep them aboard."
"I am going," Bren said.
"No," Banichi said, "you are not, nand' paidhi. But you can watch."
He fell silent then, dejected, telling himself it was not fair of them, but neither was he of any use if he took Jago away from her partner simply to watch them.
"Then trust, Jago-ji, that I can remain safe with the guard aboard, and I will not risk Banichi's life by holding you here. You saved him at Malguri and again in the Marid —"
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