“Understood,” Toby said. “Best coat, best manners, and all.”
“Best,” Barb said.
“Rely on the servants. Rely on the servants to cue you. And Tano and Algini. They will. If they ask you to do something, please don’t even question. Just do it.”
“I swear we won’t embarrass you, Bren.”
“I know you won’t,” Bren said, “or I wouldn’t leave you here, because it is that important, Toby, Barb. You both take care, will you?”
“Sure,” Toby said. “We’re pretty well done eating. Can we excuse ourselves out? Or should we sit a while?”
Bren turned to Ilisidi. “They consider the honor you offer extravagant, are very grateful and will of course be at luncheon. They ask, too, if they may gracefully retire now—atevi portions are somewhat generous for us, aiji-ma, and one believes they have become somewhat over-full.”
Ilisidi waved a hand in good humor. “Well enough, well enough. We look forward to the event.” Her expression instantly became businesslike, Ilisidi suddenly bent on a point she wished more urgently to carry. “One expects a full report on your return, nand’ paidhi, on this nephew of Geigi’s. One believes Lord Geigi himself would appreciate a report.”
“One will pay greatest attention to details, aiji-ma.”
“Then you, also, will wish to proceed, to be back in good season.”
“Yes, aiji-ma.” That was a dismissal from table, an urging to pursue his day’s business without worry, and he meant to do exactly that. He rose, bowed, leaving the table, and the remnant of the excellent breakfast, to the dowager.
He had, first, of course, to gather up Cajeiri and the Taibeni youngsters, pass on their attire—which proved far better than he had hoped. The servants informed him that all three—actually, probably Cajeiri, to do him credit—had had the foresight to pack something decently formal, in case manners were needed. Everything in the duffle had surely been crushed, but the staff, having wasted no time putting things in order, turned them all out quite nicely, given the situation.
“So,” he said as they gathered in the hallway, near the front doors, “we shall drive over to the neighbors’, pay our respects, have tea, and be back in time for supper. We shall not likely dine there tonightc possible, but unlikely.” If it had been Lord Geigi, no question he would have expected dinner, but Geigi was just that sort of fellow—nobody escaped his hospitality. Baiji was—so report said—an unenergetic fellow, and given the irregularity of his relations with the aiji, and given the fact he was leaving Toby and Barb in the dowager’s care, there seemed no likelihood at all of sufficient reason to overstay their intentions. There might be further exchanges: there might even be a reciprocal visit, if the dowager would agree to receive Geigi’s nephew: that would be socially dicey. A phone call from Baiji to the aiji’s secretary could straighten some of that out—but it hadn’t happened. It was a peculiarly sluggish young man—who just had not stirred out to secure his fortunes, trusting, one supposed, in his famous uncle’s relationship with the aiji, and his uncle’s ability to do business as needed.
But Baiji had, he chided himself, scrambled right quickly to save Cajeiri’s life—so perhaps it was just a reluctance to make moves that might cross Geigi’s. He had been fast enough last night. Picking up anylittle boat had been chancy in bad weather, and Baiji had at least ordered Geigi’s yacht out. One wondered if it had been Baiji at the helm last night—by what he had heard from the dowager, that seemed less likely; but if it had been, the young man was a very good yachtsman. And it hadbeen Baiji who had advised him on the radio where to look for the youngsters. So he had been out there.
So he certainly owed the man. They all did.
Banichi and Jago showed up, and they went out under the portico just as the bus came trundling up the cobbled drive. Iscarti was driving, one of the younger staff, a competent, cheerful fellow who also specialized in mechanical repairs and plumbing, jack of several trades.
That meant Banichi and Jago could settle back to be passengers as they boarded. The youngsters took the third and fourth seats, Antaro sitting up with Cajeiri, right behind the seat Bren claimed, as senior present; and Banichi and Jago across from him, behind the driver. They started out, a little rough over the ancient cobbles, and then more smoothly as they reached the drive.
Bren got up and leaned on the seat railings, with the attention of that young trio, and most especially Cajeiri.
“You know certain things, nandi, nadiin: that Lord Geigi has served the aiji for years as the aiji’s representative to the space-faring folk, an inestimably valuable and clever associate. He appointed a lady, his sister of the same father, to be lord of the estate: she died. Now her son, nand’ Baiji, has been governing the estate in the lady’s stead—and we do not know this man. We have scarcely met—though we are greatly in his debt for his assistance last night. But here is the delicacy in the matter: Baiji has not officially paid respects to your father the aiji, and he held neutral during the Troubles. This does not mean he was ever an enemy to your father. It was a strategy which preserved Kajiminda from attack, giving it a low profile, and probably incidentally preserving myestate, on its little peninsula, from any concentrated attack, so it was not badly done. The rebels were quite busy with people who wereresisting them, we were away in deep space, I presented no threat and had no influence on any large scalec in short, because Baiji kept Geigi’s estate politically quiet, and because Geigi, up on the station, concentrated on relations with the humans and was not making any great noise about it, either, myestate at Najida remained insulated and safe. So I owe him a debt for that. Second point: the people of this coast are largely Edi. Lord Geigi and his relatives are Maschi clan, ruling with Edi consent. The usurper’s Southern allies are historic enemies of the Edi. Geigi’s absence would easily have been an excuse for them to come up the coast onto this larger peninsula and pay old grudges. But they did not. The reason appears to have been their preoccupation with the capitaclass="underline" they may not have wanted to open a second war, while they were busy with the first. As for where Lord Geigi himself stood during this period, he was laying plans and building a network, should your father have died, young lord, to raise a war against Murini in the north, and his Southerner supporters. Geigi would notlikely have claimed the aijinate for himself: in my own estimation, he is not a traditional person, nor would he enjoy being aiji. He likely would have backed your great-uncle Tatiseigi, young lord, who would have ruled in the hope of your eventual return. Geigi was responsible for the robot landers. He was responsible for the network of communications along the coast. He was responsible for very many things that made your father’s return to power easier. Therefore, your great-grandmother is much more tolerant of nand’ Baiji’s lapses in protocols, so we shall not mention them, agreed?”
Cajeiri listened to this with more apparent attentiveness than he gave most lectures. It involved him, and his father, and things Cajeiri did understand far better than most eight-year-olds.
“So,” Bren continued, “Baiji. Baiji has been quiet here. He has not visited the neighbors, including my estate. He owes my estate money, which he has not paid, but one does not mention that, either. He seems to be the sort of man who does exactly what he has to do and no more.” This with a look directly at Cajeiri, who should understand that this was not an ideal state of being. “But you are not to say I said so nor are you ever to say so outside your own house: this is an opinion taken in council, and should be left there. This man saved your life, and the simple thanks for that is what we are dealing with today.”