“One has requested the same for Jago-nadi,” Koharu reported with a little bow. “One hopes this was intended, nandi.”
“Indeed,” he said. He was exhausted. He was assuming things, leaning on his staff to do his thinking. The distress of an argument with Banichi had rattled him. But his bodyguard was taken care of. The youngsters, his brother, Barb, and now Jago—all were settled.
He was going to ache in the morning. Amazing how fighting the wheel had taken it out of him. Maybe it had been the death grip he had maintained on it throughout, to and from.
Things were better now, much better.
Koharu provided dry slippers, then, clear of the slosh zone, he headed back to his room to dress informallyc informally, that was, by Bujavid standards: one did notvisit the aiji-dowager in one’s bathrobe, not by a mile.
“One is so glad, nandi,” Koharu ventured to say as they entered his rooms.
“How arethe youngsters?” He had not inspected them for bruises and injuries, but news of such would fly fast among the staff. “Are they well?”
“A few scrapes, nandi,” Supani said. “And a few blisters— the young gentleman particularly. But no more than that.”
Cajeiri had been at the tiller, managing the boat: likely he had been, the whole time. Brave kid: he’d done all right, past the initial flurry of young, overconfident mistakes. He’d done just all right. And hadn’t said a word about the blisters. Probably hadn’t felt them until he’d warmed up.
So the young gentleman and his aishid had gotten out with blisters and probably were going to be just as sore, and the aiji-dowager was, meanwhile, waiting, with her bodyguard, in the sitting room. He gathered himself together, put on a proper indoor coat, and went out and down the hall to the study, where the dowager waited, to give his accounting.
He entered, past one of the dowager’s young men, who stood guard. Cenedi, Ilisidi’s chief of security, rose from his chair as he came in, a warming token of respect to the house, in lieu of Ilisidi rising, which the aiji-dowager did not. She sat, cane in hand, and Bren came and gave a deeper than usual bow.
“Nand’ dowager. One is extremely regretful—”
“Oh, posh. The Guildcannot track the boy. How could you?”
“All the samec” He had his facts assembled. He was ready to give his account.
“We have heard the entire tale, nand’ paidhi, the promised sailing trip, the phone call from the islandc Barb-daja’s distressc”
He feared he blushed. He earnestly tried not to, and bowed again. “One is extremely sorry, aiji-ma, that things under my management went so very wrong.”
“Oh, sit down,” Ilisidi said with a move of the cane. So he sat, which meant Cenedi could sit down, and Ramaso and staff, frozen until now near the doorway, could move in with the dowager’s requested brandy. Ramaso gave a bow, the servants served the brandy to the dowager, to him, and to Cenedi, in that order, and Bren caught Ramaso’s eye and nodded a dismissal for all staff.
So the first several sips of brandy went down in genteel silence and composure. It was fire on a raw throat, and then comfort, all the way down.
“We have decided we shall stay a few days,” Ilisidi said, then, “and escort my great-grandson back to the capital in person. We shall not deprive him of his promised holiday, despite this disgraceful behavior. But we shall not place such a burden on your staff. It is a pleasant venue, what little we have seen of it. We look forward to its garden and its views.”
“You honor this house,” Bren said, which was pro forma, but it was also true: the household staff would be extremely excited to host the aiji-dowager. “Any hospitality we can offerc”
“Oh, just carry on, nand’ paidhi, carry on as you would have, with your kinfolk and all.”
“Nand’ Toby will possibly be here the week,” he said, “but he has received word his daughter of another union is injured, and he may opt to sailc one has no idea.” It was in his head that, under changed circumstances, he ought to ask his brother to leave—one needed to concentrateon a guest like Cajeiri, and not have another incident. “One has not had an opportunity to speak to him.”
“One believes you were discussing this very matter when my great-grandson chose to go boating.”
“The aiji-dowager is, as always, very well-informed.”
“One gathers Barb-daja is not pleased at your kinsman’s contact with the prior union.”
God, the aiji-dowager loved romantic scandal, every morsel of it. Of course she had heard, and she was interested.
“That would be understatement,” he said ruefully, and Ilisidi looked pleased. He could only imagine the disaster if the dowager chose to convey her amusement to Barb, and offer advice.
“Pish, pish, your brother should stay. We are acquainted with him and Barb-daja, and shall have no objection to sharing accommodations. No more of this.”
“Yes, aiji-ma.”
“And Lord Geigi’s nephew, this nand’ Baiji. We understand he not only aided in the search, but actually provided the first sighting of my great-grandson’s boat.”
“He did, aiji-ma.”
“Inconvenient.”
“Aiji-ma?”
“He has notpresented himself at court.”
“His predecessor died during the Troubles, aiji-ma: there may exist some confusion in the house. One understands he is youngc”
Ilisidi waved a thin hand and took another sip of brandy. “Excuses. But the fact, nand’ paidhi, is the fact. Geigi’s house, during the Troubles, presented no respects to the assassin of my grandson’s staff, true, but has paid none, either, since my grandson’s return. There is a list of persons who have not come to court nor contacted my grandson. It is a scandal that the nephew of our trusted associate should be on it, but he is. Geigi has promised that Baiji will attend the coming session—but that is not now.”
“One completely understands, aiji-ma.” It was not the law that a new lord had to come to court, but it was unusual, and foolish, given the importance of contact with the aiji, for a lord not to take advantage of that opportunity. “Lord Geigi still being lord of Kajiminda, the nephew never having received a face-to-face appointment from his uncle, perhaps, aiji-ma, he feels that his uncle’s frequent contacts with the aiji are the valid ones.”
The dowager nodded, reached, and began to refill her own glass. Bren started to get up to do so: Cenedi was faster. She had her sip and everyone settled.
“That, certainly, is an unusual circumstance,” she said, “and we would overlook his reticence, nand’ paidhi, but under other circumstances, notably the situation in the South, we cannot, officially, initiate contact. It would make a very unfortunate precedent that others could use to offer insolent behavior. In point of fact, Lord Geigi does suffice, for my grandson’s satisfaction with his house; but in terms of an official thanks to this young lord in Kajiminda, we are distressed to say we cannot pay it.”
“The paidhi would willingly do so. One is scheduled to meet with him in a few days. We might change the schedule and call on him tomorrowc should the dowager find that useful.”
“If you should chance to express our favorable sentiments,” Ilisidi said with a slow nod, “that would be appropriate. Baiji. Certainly more enterprising and useful in his performance this night than the reports of him have said. And you will urge him to remove himself from the list of those who have not contacted my grandson: it is very unbecoming company. My great-grandson will go with you tomorrow. He will not express thanks, but being a child, he can at least honor the house that aided in his rescue, and not enter into their debt.”
An important technicality: if there was a debt, it could notbind a child who would be aiji. It had to be paid in courtesy, but being the visit of a child, would never be at issue unlessthis young lord someday became a true lord and delivered his man’chi to an adult and seated young aiji. Thenthe event might be remembered with some meaning.