“ Love to you,
“ Bren.”
He folded the note, didn’t even use the wax seal, just handed it to the boy.
“Forgive my asking this of you, nadi, but go back down; and if there should be gunfire, fall down, get under the bushes and stay there. Someone will come to rescue you. The letter inquires into nand’ Toby’s situation and says he is welcome under this roof, but the situation up here is still hazardous and I personally cannot come down to the dock. He may be safer to remain in the harbor, possibly offshore. There may still be snipers. If he chooses to come up here, he will have the safety of the house. Advise persons guarding the dock exactly what I have said, and wait for a written reply from nand’ Toby if he chooses.”
“Yes, nandi!”
“Samandi is your name, is it not?”
“Yes, nandi!” A second bow, a bright, so-innocent look. “Thank you, nandi.”
“Please. Please be careful.”
“Yes, nandi.”
The boy was off like a shot.
And twice damn!
No calling the law in the district. He wasthe law in the district.
The two that attacked had been high-level Guild, no question, and on the highest levels, the Guild all knew one another. Algini in particular, who had served the last Guildmaster, likely knew their affiliations, and probably there was a host of other questions about the attack that his bodyguard would be discussing in detail. It was a discussion in which no non-Guild was welcome, not even the aiji.
Meanwhile his brother might be on his way up, most likely, with Barb; and God knew what “damage” meant. Or how incurred. Toby was a good sailor. A very good sailor.
He went out to the hall, down into the dining room, and went to the kitchens himself, or nearly soc he had reached midway in the serving hall before he met a servant, and he had only reached midway to the turn to the kitchen before the cook came hurrying out.
“Nandi! We are nearly ready to serve. One has your message, your staff and the dowager’s men—”
“There is more, Suba-ji. My brother and his lady have just put into dock. He may or may not come up to the house—be warned that there could be two more. At very least we shall need to send supper down to them.”
A bow. Suba carried a towel, and wiped his floury hands with that, looking somewhat satisfied. “Nandi, we have cooked enough for a seige. Every dish can be reheated, saved, served, or added to—nothing grand, but nothing to disgrace the house.”
“Every credit to the house, in your forethought, Suba-ji. One should never have been concerned. Excellent.”
“We shall be serving momentarily. We have rung the bells.”
Up and down the servants’ halls, that was: staff was advised of breakfast in the offing.
“Thank you. Thank you, Suba-ji,” he said, and walked out into the dining room, down the hall. He got no further than the intersection when the dowager emerged from her quarters with a grim-faced Cenedi in attendance, and the young gentleman and his two attendantsc the dowager disconcertingly resplendent in morning-dress, and from some source—possibly clothes the dowager had picked up in Shejidan when she refueled—the heir was himself kitted out in an impeccable blue coat. The paidhi was far less elegant.
“Aiji-ma,” Bren said, encountering them, and gave a little bow.
The dowager said, with a little inclination of her head: “The paidhi’s house is set in disarray this morning. One hears the lost are found. How are your people?”
“Well enough, aiji-ma, with thanks for the attendance of the physician.”
“One regrets the situation, nand’ paidhi.”
“On the other hand, aiji-ma, the stir did thoroughly beat the bushes. We know now things we had not known. One only deeply regrets the cost of it.”
“Indeed,” Ilisidi said grimly. “And my grandson has work to do, a great deal of work to do.”
“Our staffs should consult, aiji-ma.”
“Our staffs will consult,” she said. “Meanwhile my grandson will be making inquiries in Dalaigi. But enough business. We are here. We are alive this morning. Things might have gone differently.”
They had reached the door of the dining room. Bren stood just to the side to let the dowager and her escort, and Cajeiri and his, enter.
In that moment he caught a motion from the tail of his eye, Koharu and Supani coming fast.
He could not forbear a smile. Staff would not let him be caught at disadvantage. Supani whisked his day-coat off, Koharu helped him on with the jacket, just that fast, and he entered the dining room with the honor of the household assuaged, before his guests had more than reached their chairs.
He had noted a tableful of place settings. It turned out to be sufficient for all present, Cook’s sense of protocols, including their guests’ personal staffs. Suba thoughtfully stood in the service doorway to receive initial compliments, thus signaling he expected no further formal notice for this informal breakfast: only serving staff would interrupt them.
So Cenedi sat by the dowager. Therefore the Taibeni might sit with Cajeiri, Bren sat to himself, and there was hardly a word exchanged, while the initial serving—eggs—diminished.
“A bit of news. My brother has returned to dock,” Bren informed the dowager. “The report is that his boat has suffered damage. He may elect to come up the hill. One has advised him of hazard up here.”
“Damage,” the dowager said.
“One has no idea, aiji-ma, of extent or nature. One is concerned. But there is no word as yet.”
“The paidhi should remain here,” Ilisidi said firmly, “and let staff ascertain this.”
“One has sent a note down. We may hear during breakfast, aiji-ma.”
Tano and Algini might agree to go down: they could communicate. Most of the staff could not. But they might elect not to leave him. And Ilisidi was right: he had become a target.
Trust staff. Believe that his staff would not leave Toby and Barb unattended or their needs unguessed.
“Well, well, one hopes the damage is slight. No injuries?”
“Not that I have heard, aiji-ma.”
“Good, good.”
After that, and properly so, not a word of business else. The dowager put away a healthy breakfast, drank three cups of tea—Bren managed one helping and a half.
“We need not wait for removal of the dishes,” Ilisidi said. “We have business to undertake. Young gentleman, you may retire.”
Cajeiri’s mouth opened in dismay.
And silently shut. The head bowed. The young lord rose. His companions rose, and they all bowed in near-unison. “Yes, mani,” Cajeiri said.
That, perhaps, won redemptive points for the young gentleman. Bren sat still as the youngest left the table together. He did suffer a second’s concern, that it meant Cajeiri and his companions were now loose and unwatched, but there was a sort of rhythm to the young gentleman’s bursts of energy, and the youngsters this morning looked to be at a low ebb.