Betrayer: Foreigner #12 (10 page)

There. He had gotten it all out, in decent order, sounding saner than it was. And if the dowager now called him a lunatic and burst the bubble, he was in a great deal of trouble.

Another silence followed.
“We will take all these matters under advisement, nand’ paidhi.”

He hardly expected instant agreement. He said, one last clarification, one plea for a crumb of progress: “The premise of personal association, nand’ dowager, between yourself and Lord Machigi underlies the initial section of the proposal. One would hope that exploring that, at least, is not out of reach.”

“We have counterproposals,”
Ilisidi said crisply.
“We can restrain the aishidi’tat
and the Guild
from proceeding against the Marid. When he can claim the same from his side, he will hold sufficient power, and we shall then be favorably disposed toward these proposals.”

Fly to the moon, that was. Control the Marid.
Nobody
could control the Marid. A thousand years of history had said
nobody
could control the Marid.

But in principal, she hadn’t disagreed. She hadn’t come back with the microfocused specific he’d hoped for. She’d offered Machigi a sweeping counterproposal.

Become the head of the Marid.

Then talk.

He felt numb all the way to his fingertips.

But he represented Machigi. He had to
represent
Machigi’s interests.

“May one infer, nand’ dowager, that you will persuade your grandson to view Lord Machigi’s moves as self-defense?”

Silence for a moment.

Dared
one remotely suspect she was getting all the aishidi’tat’s enemies down to one vulnerable neck?

No. It wouldn’t work like that. Machigi might dominate the others, but every district would still have its lord. Kill him, and the whole structure went back to chaos.

“We have stated our position,” Ilisidi said. “What happens within the Marid will not greatly concern us, until it has issue.”

Us. Who was
us?
And what was she up to? He’d honestly
tried
to structure a peace deal. She hadn’t repudiated what he’d done—she’d just made a counterproposal.

She’d promised the Edi a lordship and a seat in the legislature. She’d declared Machigi should take over the Marid. Not a shred of reference to her grandson. Had he somehow gotten
ahead
of her next step? Ilisidi was finally, after half a century, making a serious bid to dictate a solution to the old issues that had dogged the aishidi’tat from its founding—things
she
had backed God knew how long ago.

“And how do
you
fare, nand’ paidhi?”

Give me information,
that was. He didn’t dare mistake it for sentiment.

“We are in Tanaja, comfortably housed in very fine hospitality. You will soon have a direct report of that, nand’ dowager. Lord Machigi found Barb-daja on Taisigi land, along with Veijico-nadi, and delivered both persons to my care in good health. I have just sent my bus back to Targai with them aboard, as well as the Guildsmen your grandson sent with me. I have asked the two be transported on from Targai to Najida, possibly arriving at your door late this evening.”

That,
at least, was warmer. “We have also had confirmed, nand’ dowager, that the aiji your son has rescinded the Filing against our host. This is welcome news in this quarter. Is there news on the other matter?”

Thank God. And thank Ilisidi. “I shall, aiji-ma.” Damn. He couldn’t blame that
aiji-ma
on the pain pills. It was so automatic. He hadn’t the hard-wiring to feel it, at least not in the same way.

And since Taisigi agents were recording every word, he couldn’t mend it. The information had been relayed, in effect, and the dowager certainly knew that.

“For the rest, nandi,” he said, resuming his more objective stance, “we hope our access to phones will remain open.” He dared not report what else they knew, that his bodyguard was evidently in direct communication with Machigi’s bodyguard on issues only the respective bodyguards knew.

And there was one thing he ached to know. Toby’s welfare. But it had no place in official business.

“Tell Lord Machigi,”
Ilisidi said,
“that we shall be interested in his response to our small notions.”

“I shall tell him so, nand’ dowager.”

That
was a personal kindness. A signal. She was not upset.

“One is
very
glad to hear so, nand’ dowager.”

But, given the constraints of his position, he compromised himself if he expressed personal gratitude.

The dowager surely understood that. She said, coldly
, “Keep us informed, paidhi-aiji.”
And hung up.

Well, it was a performance. And both sides would have heard it.

He had shamelessly complimented his host. He had indicated to the dowager and to Cenedi that they were not exactly free . . . that they had lost their armed escort, they were down to their own resources, but were not panicked . . .

And he had, he hoped, conveyed that it was not time yet to call Tabini and admit that the paidhi-aiji was being held hostage in Tanaja. Toby was getting better. He was beyond glad about that news.

And he had managed to advise the dowager that the bus
should
arrive and with whom. If it didn’t—well,
she
would have no doubt they had a problem, whether or not he ever had a chance to know it.

The legislature had declined to make her aiji in her departed husband’s stead—partly because her proposals about the west coast had scared hell out of them . . .

So it was round two.

Or round three . . . she’d outlived her son and was down to her grandson.

And for one reason and another, her great-grandson had now spent more time in her hands than in Tabini’s.

Now she was kingmaking in the Marid.

Now
he began to understand it. She’d been watching Machigi. She’d been calculating.

And she’d made her move.

Hadn’t Tabini warned him, when he’d first sent him off into Ilisidi’s domain—beware of my grandmother?

He felt just a little light-headed, and stood there a moment quietly and deliberately redistributing blood where it belonged.

He had great confidence in Ilisidi. He knew her. He understood her impatience with war and waste . . . and her utter contempt for special interests that had gotten their fingers into the legislative process. He knew her resources, and he had known he had to work within what she had, not what she could obtain.

So his creative lies on her behalf were not off the map. He’d stayed within possibility, and she was going to back him.

Whether or not she ultimately intended to follow through with the alliance in any way, shape, or form, or whether her aim was to create the possibility and paralyze the Marid in internal conflict—he was still alive. So were his people. There was a good chance the bus really was going to get through.

And even if all she currently intended was to create a mess in the Marid to ensure a time of tranquility on the west coast, she was an opportunist: if he presented something she wanted, she would listen.

So there was nothing for him to do now but sit down with a cup of tea and think through just what else he had to propose to Machigi. Once Machigi had heard the report of that conversation, with all the understanding another ateva could bring to the issues, he was going to have questions, objections, and points to raise.

And did Ilisidi know about the situation with the renegade Guild?

What Algini had learned from Machigi’s bodyguard was ominous, and there was no way he could have told Ilisidi what they had learned. That would have blown everything. But the Marid situation was possibly more worrisome than Ilisidi knew; possibly more than Tabini knew . . .

The entity that
might
know was the Guild leadership itself, who might or might not want to share that knowledge with members not under its administrative roof.

Maybe there was a reason the Guild had leaped at the chance to outlaw Machigi. And he had put himself in the middle of that situation.

Well, he had gotten it stopped.

But was the epicenter of the renegade problem here
,
in Tanaja, or was overthrowing Machigi the aim of renegades based elsewhere?

That left the Senji or the Dojisigi, or both, as the base of renegade operations.

The Farai, a subclan of the Senji, with strong ties to the Dojisigi, had snuggled close to Tabini, tried to establish residency in the Bujavid in Shejidan, right next to Tabini’s apartment, on the strength of an ancestral claim to that residence. It was one thing if it was ordinary Marid mischief afoot.

But if it was not the Marid itself pulling the strings . . . if it was an operation aimed at letting renegade Guild into the Bujavid . . .

God.

They could have a problem. They could have a
serious
problem.

He needed to do his job here and get back to Najida where he could get contact not only with Ilisidi but also with Tabini, on an urgent basis. He had to hope Machigi could be persuaded, and could become useful in solving the renegade Guild problem from inside the Marid.

He had no references. He had none of his accustomed, familiar maps. He had what he had in his head. And he had what maps Machigi would be willing to provide, of whatever vintage or accuracy.

“Nadiin-ji,” he said to his bodyguard, “I shall sit down and take a few notes until the maps arrive.”

T
he
bus
was coming in. Everybody in Najida had known for sure the bus was coming since afternoon, when it had dropped off people at Targai and picked up people and set out for Najida.

The bus coming back meant a lot of things.

It meant everybody must be all right, but things were still dangerous: Cajeiri had that figured. Great-grandmother almost never showed worry, but house staff did: they were in a dither.

And Great-grandmother had been just a little sharp with him at lunch, when he had come up to get lunch for nand’ Toby. He had asked if he should tell nand’ Toby that Barb-daja was coming back.

“Never promise what you cannot personally swear to, Great-grandson !” Great-grandmother had snapped at him. “Think!”

Well, he
had
thought, had he not? That was why he had asked, and it was not fair of mani to have spoken sharply to him. He was only infelicitous eight, and he made a few mistakes, but he was making far fewer lately.

Still mani had chided him.

Mani was worried about nand’ Bren, and worried about the whole situation. That was what he picked up.

But if she was
that
worried, why had she sent nand’ Bren and Banichi and all over there in the first place?

He saw no sense in what mani was doing. Lord Machigi was the same Lord Machigi who had caused holes to be shot in the woodwork at Najida and who was responsible, Cajeiri was still relatively certain, for doing in Lord Geigi’s sister and corrupting Baiji, who was still locked in Najida’s basement, just down the hall from where he took care of nand’ Toby.

But on mani’s orders, nand’ Bren was a guest of this lord, along with his bodyguard, and they were all in danger. Nand’ Bren had phoned to say he was all right, but that did not make anybody less worried about him.

So Great-grandmother, who had ordered him to go there, and who was being nervous, also thought things could still go wrong.

Machigi’s people might have attacked nand’ Bren’s bus and all those Guild aboard before it even got out of Taisigi land. That had been the first concern when they knew nand’ Bren had sent the bus back.

But it had gotten safely to Targai, over in Maschi clan territory, and Targai had phoned and said it was coming on to Najida.

With Barb-daja and Veijico.

And now it had really, truly almost gotten here with nobody shooting at it.

So Cajeiri felt more and more anticipation—and still a little dread, because nobody had said whether Barb-daja was entirely all right, that was one thing.

But the other passenger—

Veijico.

Veijico was
his
problem. Vejico and her brother had deserted
his
aishid, run off into the night, drawing nand’ Toby into an ambush and getting nand’ Toby shot and Barb-daja kidnapped.

And then she had run off, following Barb-daja, maybe to undo what she had done, but to no great good, and they
still
had not found Lucasi, who was lost somewhere in really dangerous territory and maybe dead.

He would be sorry if Lucasi should turn out to be dead. But the two of them going off like that and causing all the trouble they had caused was behavior he, being their lord, even at infelicitous eight, had to say something stern about. They had broken Guild regulations. Cenedi was mad at them. Everybody was.

More, what he felt about them was complicated, because he was glad Veijico was alive, but he was not sure he wanted Veijico and her brother back in his household at all, and there was nobody, with everything else going on, who had time to tell him what to say or do if he wanted her to go back to Shejidan. Those two had been nothing but trouble since his father had assigned them to him, and they had been constantly rude to Antaro and Jegari, who were only apprentice Guild, but who were in their way.

Antaro and Jegari had volunteered to be his bodyguards from when he had come back to the earth, and they had been in very serious situations and had people shooting at them and always protected him. Antaro and Jegari had risked their lives keeping him safe—and were still with him, did what he wanted, and would throw themselves between him and a bullet, he had no question, while Veijico and Lucasi had gone off and left him.