Cenedi was outside. Bren didn’t know what to say to him, about the youngsters; and the ancient rule—one didn’t, in a crisis, ever discuss anything delicate with Guild not one’s own—seemed to cover the situation. He ducked his head and got down the steps, letting Jago guide him.
As her feet hit the cobbled ground, however, she stopped them both, and said, to Cenedi and Nawari, “One had no choice, nadiin-ji. The young lord is at lord Geigi’s estate—in what situation, by now, we are unable to determine.”
“Details,” Cenedi said shortly, and they stood stock still, facing the gray-haired senior of Ilisidi’s bodyguard.
What followed was what Bren called, to himself, Guild-speak, a lot of information freighted in a few words and a set of handsigns.
“Positioned at the door, bus coming. Shots from the right, wing of the estate roof, bus exposed. I took my Principal, Banichi took the lord, the young lord’s party moved apart, taking cover.”
Was thatit? Man’chi, in crisis, moved emotionally-associated elements together. What moved apart might be allied on a different mission; might be hostile. Man’chi was situated somewhere in the hindbrain, in the gut—Mospheirans would call it the heart. It moved people in certain directions, and Cajeiri’s man’chi hadn’t been to a human, never mind Cajeiri was a minor child. If he’d followed his aishid, that would have been a topsy-turvy response, a fault in his character; and if he’d led his aishid—he was emotionally in charge; but he’d instinctively leftthe paidhi and his guardc going in his own direction, getting under cover. It was crystal clear—if you were wired that way from birth.
He, personally, wasn’t wired that way. But his bodyguard was. Right now Tano and Algini were taking a man of his house to somewhere the doctor could work on him, and Jago was making sure Baiji stayed put, and Banichi—Banichi was facing down his old ally Cenedi’s justified anger, protecting the paidhi. Cenedi, their old ally in a hundred crises, was absolutely expressionless—not happy—and probably assessing what he and hiscould do about the situation that had developed.
He wished he had an answer. He wished he understood half the undercurrents in the situation he’d let develop.
“We stand ready to go back ourselves, Cenedi-nadi,” Bren said. “We shall get the boy back. We do not intend anything less.”
“In the meeting with nand’ Baiji,” Banichi said to Cenedi. “We were dealt half-truths and equivocations. This lord knows something more, and will tell it to us and the dowager’s guard.”
Cenedi glanced toward Baiji with the first gleam of inner heat in his impassive facade, but said nothing.
“One needs urgently to speak to the dowager,” Bren said, “if she will see me.”
Cenedi gave a jerk of his head, said: “Nandi,” and turned and led the way.
Toby had showed up at the door. Barb, thank God, had not. Toby made a sudden move to grasp his arm that sent hands to pistol butts—a motion restrained as Bren lifted a hand and then laid it on Toby’s shoulder, sweeping him along with him. “Toby, this is very serious. Get back to your suite and stay there. WithBarb. Assassins made a try at us. Cajeiri’s missing. Go. Nobody’s in the least patient here. Ask house staff if you need anything.”
“Any way we can help,” Toby began.
“There isn’t. Not at the moment. Just go. Stay low.”
Toby had that basic sense; and he trusted Toby, at least, to stay put—even to sit on Barb, for her own protection.
One of Cenedi’s men, Kasari, had now moved in to take charge of Baiji. Bren headed down the hall as far as the door of the dowager’s suite of rooms, and Cenedi and Nawari, in the lead, opened the door.
The dowager was on her feet, waiting, leaning on her cane.
Her eyes flashed sullen gold as they took in the bloody spectacle that confronted her.
Bren bowed his head, met her eye to eye with: “Our driver was shot, aiji-ma.”
“Cajeiri separated himself from the paidhi, aiji-ma.” Cenedi said in a flat tone, “seeking cover. He was left behind.”
“How?” Ilisidi snapped, and the cane hit the floor. “What occasioned this?”
“We were about to board the bus,” Bren said, having gathered the atevi-wise salient facts from Jago’s initial explanation. “Shots from the roof, the driver fell, Jago grabbed me and took the wheel. Banichi took Lord Baiji into keeping, aiji-ma. He is here. Cajeiri is there.”
Ilisidi actually, astonishingly, relaxed a little, hearing that set of facts. “In their hands?”
“Uncertain, nand’ dowager,” Banichi said. “One saw no such thing. Nand’ Baiji was addressing nand’ Bren, pleading to go with us to Najida. Shots met us outside. And the young people separated from us in the confusion of motion.”
The cane hit the floor much more gently, twice. The dowager was thinking, and her jaw was set.
“You have Baiji,” she said.
“The young gentleman moved toward cover,” Banichi said. “The young companions were between me and him.”
The Taibeni youngsters—an untrained guard—had moved between Banichi and their young lord: Banichi would have had to flatten them to reach Cajeiri. That might have taken one precious second, and two more to bring Cajeiri back to the bus—a time in which Jago might have been shot and the whole situation unraveled. Their bus in jeopardy, unknown man’chi around them, and Cajeiri andhim to protectc Banichi had saved what he could, and picked him.
The dowager nodded slowly, grimly. “The paidhi is the more valuable,” she muttered.
He understood it all right down to the point Ilisidi said that, regarding her precious great-grandson. He was appalled. Didn’t know what to say.
And Ilisidi turned and walked away into the inner hallway of her suite.
“Cenedi-ji,” he said. He thought maybe, under the circumstances, Cenedi might not favor the familiar address, but he knew the man, and did it anyway. “I will personally move the heavens and the earth to get Cajeiri back safely. One begs you let me and my staff assist you in what we do next.”
Cenedi nodded shortly in the affirmative. “We shall begin,” Cenedi said, “by asking nand’ Baiji what he knows about this. Will the paidhi wish to question him? The paidhi heard his prior responses.”
“Yes,” he said, and looked at Banichi and Jago, who gave him no sign to the contrary. “Nadiin-ji, I shall have to call the aiji.”
“One believes ’Sidi-ji is doing so at this moment,” Cenedi said. “There will be reinforcements within a few hours, asked or unasked.”
“Baiji’s household is suspect,” Banichi said grimly. “We did not recognize the men with him. Not a one. And we did not see all of them. Nor do we know about the servants.”
“Number?” Cenedi asked.
“Four uniformed, downstairs. The shots came from the roof.”
Crack. Tap. Ilisidi came back outof her room down the hall and said, with perfect and terrible calm, “We shall have a personal word with Baiji. I will spare half an hour. Come dark, we shall go get my great-grandson.”
Diplomacy might be his job. But security was wholly Guild business, and Guild was going to be in charge when they moved tonight. Dangerous enough, that they’d apparently just called Tabini to respond to the situation. Communications were a leaky business ever since the new technology had taken hold; and the Messengers’ Guild, in charge of the phones, had never been wholly reliable. The matter had gotten noisier and noisier, and if the lines were compromised, there might be more moving than a handful of Assassins over in Kajiminda.