Wasit the deliberately open door?
It was pretty stupid of his father to have left mani and him sitting in it, if it was.
Except his father and mother were having another baby.
He really did not like that thought. The stupid rebels had robbed him of his birthday party on the ship. He really, really looked forward to his ninth, which was very close now.
Dying and giving everything to the new baby was not at all what he intended to do. The renegades were very inconvenient.
“So the Senji and the Dojisigi are going to try to make the Guild come here,” he said, “And they are not going to fight by Guild rules.”
“One believes you are very right, nandi,” Veijico said.
He was not as much scared as he was mad. The renegades were interfering with him, and they were hurting bystanders, and aiming at mani and nand’ Bren, and everybody. And if his father was not already sending help here, then he was going to be very mad at his father, because his father was not stupid, and it meant bad things if his father failed to do that.
“My father will send help,” he said firmly.
But then he had an even scarier thought, and he wished he were more confident his father could actually make the Assassins’ Guild move where he wanted them to move, right now.
***
Jago stayed gone. Tano and Algini hadn’t shown up. Banichi was off looking for a way out of here. It was a very lonely wait.
And it had gotten to that hour of the morning when the small life of the high plateau had just begun to stir into the sun’s warmth. Bren watched a living-leaf crawl up the branch of a shrub, among last year’s leaves that looked just like it. He heard a clicking that was a rockhopper greeting the day.
Then a movement scraped the rocks above him, and a booted foot and a plummeting body landed right by him.
Jago. Landing on her feet, as if it had not been that great a drop.
Time to move, then, was his first thought. They’d overtake Banichi, who’d be waiting for them.
“Tano and Algini are coming,” she said and added, frowning: “They have the boy with them.
Stay down, Bren-ji.”
Thatwasn’t as arranged. It wasn’t what Banichi had told the boy to do.
He stayed where he was and waited, letting Jago guide the others in.
And sure enough, Tano and Algini came in from around the stony shoulder of the hill on the same track they had used. And just behind them was Lucasi. Lucasi was moving under his own power, limping, with a fairly substantial splint around the afflicted leg and leaving, one was certain, a clear trail behind him, even on the rocks.
Maybe it was pity that had made them bring Lucasi with them—but he didn’t believe it. Tano might have a soft heart. Algini wasn’t so inclined.
“Nandi.” Tano arrived a little out of breath. “One apologizes. The place was being overrun.
The boy knows too much.”
Cancel any thought that things were going smoothly back there. Whatever they had blown up, the explosion had drawn in more trouble, and they’d diverted themselves back to pick up a liability who would spill a dangerous truth: that there was a high-value target wandering around out here, in convenient reach.
“One apologizes to you, nadiin-ji,” Bren said. “We should have taken him with us in the first place.”
“By no means,” Algini said. “Nor will we slow you and Jago. The boy leaves a clear track.
They will surely find us.”
Lucasi looked mortified, head mostly down. “One asks,” the boy said, “let me hold this place.
One will notbe a liabil—”
Algini gave him a single, hard shake, and didn’t have to say a thing. Lucasi bit his lip and ducked his head.
“Jago-ji,” Tano said. “Go. We are not now in the path of incursion, but we are much too close to it, and our trail is so obvious they will be cautious following it.”
“Yes,” Jago said, and, businesslike: “Bren-ji.”
Move, that meant. Now. And Bren didn’t object. Their best chance, under the circumstances, was his doing exactly what Lucasi was finally learning to do: shut up when Algini expressed an opinion and stick very close to whichever of them had him in charge at the moment.
What they hadn’tsaid, doubtless out of politeness, was that Jago already had her hands full and didn’t need two problems.
Jago headed out, and Bren followed.
And he was sure beyond any doubt that the area and the enemy had more to worry about in tracking Tano and Algini than Tano and Algini had in being tracked.
***
Things were beginning to stir around the house now that the conference was over. Mani and Lord Geigi and Cenedi had had their breakfast, so Jegari reported, which had turned out to be more of a lunch. But nobody was interested in talking to a boy.
So Cajeri, having thoughts of his own about what needed to be done, and with nobody listening to him except his aishid, said, “We shall go downstairs, nadiin-ji. We have business of our own.”
He led the way straight down to the basement from the vacant dining hall, not caring whether or not the servants reported it, since both Cenedi and mani were too busy to bother with him.
He had his excuse, besides: nand’ Bren had told him to take care of nand’ Toby, and by a slight stretch, he was still doing that.
He led his aishid straight to nand’ Toby’s door, and Antaro knocked.
Barb-daja answered the door. The smell of sandwiches and spiced tea wafted out. She and nand’ Toby were having lunch in their room. That was a little disappointment.
But humans had different manners. He traded on that.
“Sorry,” he said with a little bow. “Can we talk, nandi?”
“Come on in,” nand’ Toby said, past Barb-daja’s shoulder. Nand’ Toby was looking immensely better today, now that Barb-daja was back. He was still wrapped up in bandages, of course, and he was having breakfast with his shirt unbuttoned, but, then, nand’ Toby was not on mani’s orders, was he? Cajeiri edged into the room. Nand’ Toby and Barb-daja had a little table with only two chairs, but there was the bed to sit on, and Barb-daja quietly relocated onto the edge of the mattress, collecting her tea and her plate, motioning for their guest to take her chair. “There’s plenty, if you want, nandi,” she said. And more doubtfully, as his aishid slipped quietly into the room to stand along the wall and he remained respectfully standing: “Or I’m sure we could send for more.”
“We ate, nandi.” They had, twice, actually. And using nand’ Toby’s name in the human way just was not right, and ship-speak sirwas too general, besides hard to say. Cajeiri settled for a mix of ship-speak and Ragi.
“So what can we do for you?” nand’ Toby asked.
“You can hear news, nandi.”
“Tea, Barb,” Toby said, and Barb picked up a spare cup from the little service—it was a seven-cup set—and poured.
Cajeiri sat down and took the teacup with a proper little nod/bow-in-place. Nand’ Toby offered that atevi courtesy, too, being polite and proper, so one had to take at least three sips before saying anything. Mani had thwacked that into his skull.
And he ought to wait. It was terribly rude to discuss serious things over somebody’s food.
And in proper manners he needed to wait until they were through with their lunch.
Humans did not observe such customs, however. Even adults thought it was perfectly fine to talk business over food. At least that was true on the ship. He cautiously began to break mani’s rules.
“Mani and Lord Geigi and Cenedi-nadi have talked. A message came. The Guild is attacking enemies in the Marid.”
“A message from Bren?” nand’ Toby asked.
“Not from nand’ Bren, no, nandi. I think it came from the Guild to Cenedi.”