“Good for both of you,” he said, and meant it fervently.
“Just so damned glad you sent Banichi and Jago.”
“I assure you, you and whoever else went with you would have been under watch the whole route down to the boat, but you don’t have my skills at falling flat in the dirt on cue.”
“I’ll be faster at it, after this,” Toby said. “ Banichishoved me flat. I think I’ll remember that fact tomorrow morning.”
Bren laughed, well familiar with that sensation, which involved the relocation of every vertebra in one’s neck and back, not to mention the meeting with the ground.
And just then a knock at the door heralded the servant with the tea service, the very historic tea service—the others must be elsewhere disposed—the cups of which Toby and Barb took with dirty fingers, ever so carefully.
“This is beautiful,” Barb said, looking carefully at the cup. Barb had an eye for assessing things. “But my hands are shaking.”
“They won’t, in a moment. Thirteenth century, that service. Best the house has. —Thank you, nadi,” he said to the servant. “Please wait.” And took his own sip of tea. “Your boat will be safe. Someone is checking out both the boats, yours and mine, just to be sure.”
“So grateful,” Toby murmured. “You think of everything, brother.”
“I have no few brains working on problems for me,” he said. “So I don’t have to be brilliant.”
“I never appreciated a house like this,” Toby said. “I’m starting to understand it. In all senses. It’s not all tea and cookies, is it?”
“It’s a village of its own,” he said. “It defends itself pretty well, and we all take care of each other. Staff smuggled most every stick of furniture and set of china, even whole carpets, out of my Bujavid apartment when the Bujavid was being taken over. They got it on trains right under the opposition’s noses and had it and key staff members collected here at Najida before Murini’s people knew they were missing. And some of my staff, Murini’s people would particularly have liked to lay hands on, but they weren’t about to come in here to get themc Najida being part of Najida Peninsula, which is part of the west coast, which is Edi territory, Murini didn’t want his agents cracking thategg, for fear of what might hatch and raise holy hell. But you know that, Frozen Dessert.”
“Even the Marid,” Toby said, “was scared to take on your staff.”
“I think so. They’d organized. That was everything. Favor Ramaso for that. Ramaso and his connections. No small advantage to me, in all this.”
One cup gone, and Barb stifled a yawn. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry, Bren.”
“That’s the intent,” Bren said. The sedative was hitting his system, too, and he set the precious cup aside on the desk. The attending servant, part of the furniture until that moment, instantly collected it, collected Barb’s, and Toby finished his in a last swallow and handed the cup over.
“Nadi,” Bren said, delaying the servant a moment, and gave him the incidental instruction to inform Geigi’s nephew that his uncle was annoyed as hell and would talk to him in the morning.
“So we’re downstairs,” Toby said.
“Two of the youngest servants will have given you their quarters,” Bren said. He could guess the names. “There’s the servants’ bath, down there, servant’s kitchen, where you may find snacks at any time of night—but just ask the staff. They’ll be happier to provide it for you on a tray.”
“Better than Port Jackson’s best hotel,” Toby said, and then realized: “I don’t have my shaving kit. Or either of us a change of clothes, what’s worse. Everything’s on the boat.”
“Trust staff. They’ll see to you. Pile your clothes outside the door and they’ll turn up clean by dawn.”
“God,” Toby said. “Thank the staff for us.”
“I have,” Bren said, and got up, as Toby and Barb levered themselves up with considerably more stiffness. “Soak in a hot tub, mandatory. Atevi manners. Then bed. You’re sleeping in a fortress. Let staff do the worrying tonight, too.”
“Good night,” Toby said, and hugged him, and Barb did, sister-like. Brother-like, he wanted to ruffle her hair, he was so pleased with her at the moment, sedative tea and all, but Barb was perfectly capable of building that gesture into a fantasy, and he didn’t want to upset the sense of balance they’d found, at least for the night.
“Good night,” he said, and showed them out into the hall, and pointed them the way to the downstairs, down by the dining hall, before he headed for his own room, and found his two valets on his track before he got there.
“Nadiin-ji,” he said, feeling warm and cared-for and very, very lucky. He let them rescue his clothes, and flung himself into bed on the aftereffects of the tea, eyes shut immediately.
Jago would come to bed soon. Her sleeping with him was the arrangement that let his staff fit into the library with their equipment. But he was too sleepy to wait for her.
7
« ^ »
Lord Geigi might have interviewed his nephew in his nephew’s room downstairs, and Bren had expected he would do so. But that venue would have been a bit cramped for the interested audience it turned out to have drawn—himself among them. Geigi had indicated the dowager would of course be welcome; and of course the paidhi-aji, and then Cajeiri had managed to attach himself to his grandmother, and they all came with their requisite security, six persons—Tano and Algini were on active duty with Bren this morning, while Banichi and Jago, avoiding formal uniform after a long day yesterday, stayed at the consoles in their station.
“There is the sitting room,” Bren said to Geigi, so the sitting-room it was, a natural enough retreat after a good breakfast—in which Baiji did not share. Geigi did not let anticipation hurry him at all. They quietly took tea once they reached the sitting room. They waited, and chatted about affairs on the station.
The mood was jovial, even—so pleasant that when the dowager’s guards—her personnel being in greatest abundance for such duties—escorted Baiji upstairs and into the sitting-room, Geigi scarcely paid him attention, savoring a last cup of tea, apparently indifferent.
Baiji was in a sad state this morning—sweating, as pale as an ateva could manage, and abjectly down of countenance. He gave a very deep bow to his uncle, who did not so much as acknowledge the fact, and quietly subsided into the chair the servants had placed central to the arc the other chairs, made the potential focus of all attention, if anyone had looked at him.
No one said anything for a moment. Baiji kept his mouth shut. Then:
“What happened to your mother?” Geigi asked directly and suddenly, and as Baiji immediately opened his mouth and started to stammer something: “Be careful!” Geigi snapped at him. “On this answer a great deal else rests!”
Baiji shut his mouth for a moment and wrung his hands, which otherwise were shaking.
“Uncle, I—”
“Who am I?”
“My uncle, lord of Sarini province, lord of Kajimindac”
“I am less than certain you may call me uncle,” Geigi said mercilessly. “I have not yet heard my answer.”
Baiji bowed his head over his hands. “Uncle, I—”
“My answer, boy! Now!”
“I fear now—one fears they may have killed her.”
“Do you, indeed? And is this a recent realization?”
“Only since I came here. Nand’ Bren said it, and I cannot forget it. Day and night, I cannot forget it! I am sorry, Uncle! I am infinitely sorry.”
“You disrespected your mother. You disregarded her good opinion when she was alive. You ignored her orders. You did everything at your own convenience or for your own benefit, with never a thought about her wishes or her comfort, or her respect. Am I mistaken?”