Machigi looked at his minister, and looked back again, head tilted. “Convenient.”
“Convenient, nandi. Your rule over the Marid becomes an asset to all associated powers. And the advantages available in that alliance are far more than any you would cede in the process.”
“Allowing Edi piracy to operate unchecked.”
“No. That will be another consequence of negotiations now underway. A strong Marid and a strong association on the coast can be better neighbors than that, considering the dowager’s potential influence with both. Even the aiji in Shejidan will be behind you in your rights on the shipping lanes, I can state that. Realistically, there may be some resistence to this on both sides. We both know that. But less and less, as both districts become sure of their benefits.”
“We are naval powers. We do notaccept armed ships in our waters.”
“The dowager has no interest in the whereabouts of your ships. Your interests in that matter have no possible point of contact. Nor does shehave a navy. I would be beyond my instructions to recall that there isone decent harbor in the East, never more than a fishing village. But it is a broad bay. A far sail, for the Marid. But who knows, for the future?”
Machigi was silent for a moment, then looked briefly at his minister, and back to Bren, saying nothing, but thinking. Clearly thinking.
It was the way atevi association worked. A network of alliances, each dictating the relationship to other networks. Alliance to a power so remote, so generally landlocked, so tied to a neighbor’s network—
Could it be of advantage to Machigi?
Would it provoke others in Machigi’slocal associations?
“We have reason to talk,” Machigi said, “nand’ paidhi. I do not say paidhi-aiji. You arespeaking for another power at present.”
“Yes. In this, I am. I am not in conflict, in doing so. If I am mistaken, I may end up resident at Malguri with the aiji-dowager. But I do not think I am mistaken in this, nandi.”
“You have a certain reputation,” Machigi said, “as dispassionate. I see it is justified.”
Dispassionate. That was an odd assessment. But, he supposed, being immune to certain atevi emotions, or picking them up only in theory, intellectually—he could seem dispassionate, by some standards. Certainly he had no territorialhistory.
“I am fascinated,” Machigi said further, “by your accent. Less Padi Valley, more of the classic South.”
Southern. It could be analyzed that wayc recalling that the South had been preeminent in the classic period, and that thatwas the origin of the South’s refusal to bow to the Padi Valley-based Ragi as leaders of the aishidi’tat. He bowed in acknowledgment of what was actually a compliment, with the southern conservatives. “My aishid’s accent,” he said, “is more southern. One is certainly aware of the ancient and honorable traditions of this region.”
“I find myself continually amazed that that accent comes out of your mouth. And you do not stumble over kabiu.”
“One is gratified by your notice, nandi.” Yet another bow.
“We shall speak in the morning, nand’ paidhi. Sleep soundly tonight, upon the thought that the dowager is a very wise woman.”
Did Machigi mean the dowager was right? That Machigi wasbeing challenged?
“Nandi.” He rose, and despite the brandy, despite the fact the pain of bruised ribs had settled to a certain level and stayed there—it didn’t stay there when he got up. It was with the utmost effort he kept his breathing even and his voice level—he feared his face had gone pale. “One is very grateful for your hospitality.”
One of Machigi’s guards received Machigi’s signal and opened the door. He left, with Banichi and Jago close by him, and the first of Machigi’s men, and another, proceeding outward, escorted them to the stairs.
He wasn’t sure he could climb those steps. It wasn’t poisoning, he was relatively sure of that. It wasn’t the brandy. He’d been moderate with that. He set his hand on the bannister and paused at the bottom.
“Your patience, nadiin,” he said to the guards in the lead. “One had a minor mishap this morning.” Deep breath. He’d at least alerted Banichi and Jago to the likelihood the paidhi-aiji was apt to fall. But if he did—
If he did he could alarm the two in front, who were armed and hair-triggered. “I am feeling quite short of breath, nadiin. Be it understood it was in no wise the fault of the dinner or the brandy. It has just been a very long day. A moment to catch my breath. A bruised rib.”
“Nandi.” There was a little concern from Machigi’s men, who watched from above, and might have no wish to have a problem on their watch. “Please attend him, nadiin.”
Jago’s hand arrived under his arm. He waited. Took a step upward. He had his wind. He finished the climb with Jago’s hand at his elbow, and got a deeper breath.
“Nadiin,” he said, “I shall be fine once I have had some sleep. Please be assured so.”
“Nandi.” A bow as the two reached the apartment door, and knocked on it. It opened in short order, doubtless that Tano and Algini had been communicating.
“Nandi,” Jago began to say, “Barb-dajac”
“Bren!” The cry came from inside.
He was stunned, walking in on the sight of Barb, in atevi dress, standing there in the sitting room.
He was not prepared for Barb to rush toward him, arms spread.
Barb was not prepared for Tano to whirl about and interpose an arm. It knocked Barb backward to the floor.
Damn, Bren thought. Barb was half-stunned, lying in a puddle of russet voile, hurt, though Algini quickly knelt down to gather her fainting form up from the tiles. She had hit her head. They had scared hell out of Machigi’s guards, who had drawn weapons; and Banichi had interposed his body, blocking the door with an arm against the doorframe, so neither of Machigi’s men had a target; and Jago was simply holding on to him for safety.
Damn.
“A misunderstanding,” he said, for Machigi’s men. “She meant no harm. She was frightened.”
Guns went back into holsters. Thank God Banichihad not drawn. Nor had Jago. Bren found himself shaking in the knees. His breath hurt. Thank God Barb hadn’t gotten to his ribs.
“Is the situation safe?” Machigi’s men were in the odd position of having to ask Banichi, and Banichi, carefully removing his hand from the woodwork, answered: “Safe, nadiin. She was, as the paidhi notes, moved by man’chi. She is, we hope, uninjured.”
“We apologize,” Jago said, “for the startlement. You will have known by now, nadiin, that the lady is excitable.”
“Nadiin,” the other said with a nod, and with a bow: “Nandi.”
“We are glad to have recovered her,” Bren said with what aplomb he could muster. “Please say so to your lord.”
“Nandi.” Another bow. Banichi moved inside and carefully shut the door. Barb, meanwhile, was moaning and hiccuping, and Algini was very carefully helping her to her feet.
“One regrets,” Tano said.
“You were perfectly justified, Tano-ji,” Bren said, thinking of his ribs. “Can we not sit down? Is there tea?” It was automatic when things grew chaotic. And he wanted more than anything to sit down. Soon. And to get the vest off, and see if any ribs were broken.
“There will be tea, Bren-ji,” Tano said. “The staff has brought us supper.”