A lengthy silence, while Baiji studied the carpet in front of his feet.
“I regret it. I regret it, honored Uncle. I wish she were alive.”
“So do I,” Geigi said grimly. “But I would not wish her the sight I now have of her son, nadi.”
“Uncle, —”
“Do not appeal to me in her name! You used up that credit long ago. Muster virtue of your own. Can you find any to offer?”
“I see my faults,” Baiji said weakly. “Uncle, I know I am not fit to be lord of Kajiminda.”
“No, you are not. Have you any interest in becoming fit for anything?”
“The aiji-dowager has suggested—”
“I know what she has suggested.”
“One would be very glad of such terms.”
“I daresay you should be. Liberty there will not be, not until we have unraveled this mess you have made. Have you any excuse for yourself?”
One sincerely hoped Baiji had the intelligence not to offer any. Bren sat biting his lip on this untidy scene and watched Baiji bow repeatedly.
“One gave the papers to nand’ Bren. One saved every shred of correspondence with these people in the Marid.”
“Self-protection and blackmail hardly count. Had you attempted to use such things from the position you had made yourself, you would have been dead by sundown. You hardly have the courage to have taken them to Shejidan and given them to the aiji. Did you attempt that?”
“One feared he would not view them in any good light.”
“One doubts there is a light in which to view them that would cast you in any credit whatsoever. I shall offer you several suggestions, the first of which is that you abandon any illusion you ever will rule anything.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“The second is that you do not attempt to negotiate with anyone in secrecy from me and from the aiji-dowager, who has offered a handsome marriage for you, and the saving of your life.”
“One would be grateful, Uncle.”
“Did you hear the first part of that? Do I need to break it down for you?”
“I shall never deal with any other people, Uncle.”
“The third is that you take pen and paper to your room and begin a list of every name you know in the Marid, every person you have had contact with directly or indirectly, including subordinates and Guild. Have you had any message from my former wife?”
“No, Uncle. Not directly.”
“Indirectly.”
“She—she vouched for the first person to contact me.”
“Who was?”
“Corini of Amarja.”
“How good is your memory, nephew?”
“I can remember the names, uncle.”
“I suggest you go do so. The marriage that will be your sole salvation depends on the output of your memory and the speed and accuracy of your writing. Do you understand that? Make every connection clear. Provide us your best estimate of these connections and differentiate the ones you know from the ones you suspect. Provide us a list of the things they offered you, and the dates so far as you can reconstruct them, and no, you may nothave access to the documents you provided to nand’ Bren. Let us see the quality of your memory and the functioning of your wit. It may be instructive for you.”
A deep bow, clasped hands to the forehead in profound apology. “I shall, Uncle. I shall. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“What have been your dealings with Lord Pairuti of the Maschi?”
“None.” A deep breath and shake of the head. “He commiserated with me about my mother and wished me well on my taking up Kajiminda. That was all. He never helped me. He never came to call.”
“Nor did you call on him? It would have been courteous.”
“I intended to, Uncle.”
“Appalling,” Geigi said with a shake of his head, and looked toward Ilisidi. “Does the aiji-dowager have any questions for this infelicitous person?”
“One believes you are setting him on a useful program,” Ilisidi said, and looked at Cajeiri. “Great-grandson, this is a bad example. Have youany advice for this wretch?”
“He should obey his uncle,” Cajeiri said.
“Good advice,” Ilisidi said. “Very good advice. —Do you hearit, nadi? One recommends you hear it!”
“One hears it,” Baiji said faintly. “One hears it, aiji-ma.”
“Go,” Geigi said with a wave of his hand. “Go downstairs! Begin your writing! Immediately!”
Baiji gathered himself up and bowed three times, to Ilisidi, to Geigi, and to Bren, then headed to the door—Guild instantly positioning themselves inside and outside to make sure he made it to the door without detours. Ilisidi’s young men gathered him into their possession in the hall, taking him back to his cell in the basement, and Geigi let out a long sigh, shaking his head.
“Time has not improved him. One hoped, during the time we had no communication. One hoped, having no better choice when the shuttles were not flying—but that I believed his unsubstantiated reports that things were in order—it was my fault, aiji-ma. I left him in charge too long.”
“If you had come back to Kajiminda while he was in charge, you would surely have died,” Ilisidi said, “whether or not your nephew was in on it. About that, we make no judgement—yet. One only offers belated condolences for your loss, Geigi-ji.”
“It will be my highest priority, aiji-ma, to find out what happened—starting with my staff. There is no word of them? No word, perhaps, from the Grandmother of Najida? One hopes she is not too put out with me.”
Bren started to say he had had no word. Ilisidi said, crisply: “After lunch, one believes.”
After lunch, Bren thought in some disquiet. Ilisidi had done more than take over the estate. She had taken over communication with the village. And, one hoped, security for the coming and going involved.
“I shall go to my rooms and have my thoughts in order, then,” Geigi said. “One will expect the Grandmother of the Edi at whatever time she chooses to visit. My gratitude, aiji-ma, nandi.” He gathered himself from his chair, moving slowly, looking, at the moment, very sad.
One wished one could do something. But what could be done—seemed out of the paidhi’s hands at the moment.
So for the next while, they had one very worried Baiji down in the basement with a stack of paper and a pen. They had Geigi relaxing in his quarters with a plate of teacakes and a pot of tea. They had the dowager busy phoning Shejidan and sending messages to Najida andover to Kajiminda, apparently couriered by the village truck.
Soc it was a chance for the paidhi-aiji to get to his office and do some fast research in the massive post-coup data files he had gulped down months ago and had only moderate time to sort throughc what lord was currently in charge of what province, since the Troubles; what was the situation of the clan and family, and what were the affiliations and associations— all these things—notably regarding the west coast and the Marid. In a land that knew no hard and fast boundaries, among people who viewed overlap of associational territories as entirely ordinary, allegiances shifted in total disregard of physical boundaries.
Impossible to draw any meaningful atevi map except in shades of those relationships, in which the likelihood of various families having ties outside, say, a province, increased markedly as one approached a quasi-border—and so did the likelihood of various families having bloodfeuds on the other side of the almost-border.
The west coast was a case of shells within shells within shells, all overlapping circles of territory and past agreements. The whole district had a long history of warfare, sniping, assassinations, political marriages, and simple trade-marriages, where two families made arrangements for business association in the only coin that lasted centuries: blood-ties. Marriages.
Exactly what Ilisidi proposed for Baijic and what Geigi was interested in, not only for Kajiminda, which he ruled; but also for Maschi clan. The current head of Maschi clan was Pairuti. That, Bren knew.
Records confirmed that Pairuti had come to formal court in Shejidan during the days when Murini was in power, paying the expected visit to new authority, and probably really worried about getting back home alive.