A small moment of silence, even Cajeiri not daring move a muscle.
“Make peace with Taiben,” Tatiseigi muttered in disgust, shaking his head. “Ask them across our borders. How in all reason can we do this?”
“Courteously,” Ilisidi said, in a voice dripping with triumph.
“Abominable woman!” But this came quietly. Tatiseigi took up his refilled cup and gulped.
“Do we then sit and wait for an attack, Lord of the Atageini?”
“Well, well, you send for them! Send your own staff, none of mine, on this foolish venture! Plague take the necessity—which is altogether your fault, woman, and say nothing more to me about foolishness and sinking into sloughs! Who was it went traipsing off to the stars to settle quarrels among a pack of renegade humans while the association fell apart?”
“Ah, there is the brave Tatiseigi we knew in our youth. Young again. An inspiration. Confusion to the Kadigidi.”
“Ha!” Disgust. Defeat. “You make up your message to Taiben, woman. I shall add to it.”
“Courteously.”
“Courteously, always courteously. When are we anything but courteous?” The teacup, fragile as eggshell, clicked down on the table with considerable force. “So write this cursed message. And we shall see how to send it.”
“Our young kinsman can compose the request, in his own words, in his own hand, and attach our appropriate sentiments. Can you not, great-grandson?”
“Mani-ma?” Wide, alarmed eyes.
“The boy is not yet nine!” From Tatiseigi.
“If he wishes to see nine, he knows what must be done, and how to do it. A force from Taiben must arrive here, as soon as possible, to counter Kadigidi mischief. We shall add our bit to this missive, Tati-ji, and it may go out under our seal, but we have taught this boy to write, and to express himself with appropriate courtesy. Let us see this letter your grand-nephew will write. There is a desk, boy. There must be pen and paper in this elegant house.”
Cajeiri was uncharacteristically subdued as, at an insistent wave of Ilisidi’s hand, he rose, bowed correctly to his elders collectively, and went to the desk.
Not yet nine. Not yet nine going on a hundred, he was. Bren was humanly appalled, watching that stiff carriage, that proper straight back as the boy sat down, opened the desk, and located pen and suitable paper with the same dignity his father might have shown. The paidhi simply kept his mouth shut while the boy wrote. Ilisidi and Tatiseigi calmly discussed the harvest, and whether the invading Kadigidi would be so barbaric as to threaten the fields and towns to the east, or whether they properly ought to bring the populace into this. There was at least a need to advise the people in that quarter to melt aside from any incursion. Brave local folk, underinformed, might undertake to hold off a rapidly moving force which might otherwise ignore them, and there was no hope of their resisting the skilled, well-equipped agents of the Kadigidi, who were just as likely to employ southerners as homegrown agents. The Guild might not budge, officially, but the Guild’s inaction did not restrain Guild members in service to various houses from specific actions, directed by their lords. Among atevi, Guild actions, however desperate, were Guild actions, and farmers and tradesmen had no reasonable place taking up arms so long as their towns and fields stayed sacrosanct. Taiben, many of whose people were Guild, and who had long been attached to the aiji in their peculiar service, were somewhat another matter… and involving Taiben inside Atageini territory escalated the potential for general, bloody war far, far above the usual measured sniping of Guild of one house for advantage against Guild members employed by another.
Bren took another cup of tea. It was the only use for himself he could possibly conceive under present circumstances, to sit and absorb facts as they floated past, to listen to the surmises of these two ancient and knowledgeable atevi until the immediate issues resolved themselves or, if only, if only, some brilliant notion occurred to him. He by no means liked the disposition of his last such inspiration. He wished he had never said the word Taiben.
Pen scratched audibly on paper for several minutes intermittently. Perhaps five minutes. Seven. Flurry of scratches at the end. The desk shut. The chair scraped softly on the marble floor.
Cajeiri walked back to face his elders with a second proper bow, paper in hand.
“A letter,” he announced, like a schoolchild reciting, and squared it in both hands to read.
“Cajeiri son and heir of Tabini-aiji to nand’ Keimi of Taiben. We are guests of Lord Tatiseigi. The Kadigidi are planning to send assassins to kill us and our great-grandmother, also Bren-paidhi and Lord Tatiseigi, perhaps tonight. We need help very badly. Great-grandmother thinks it is a good idea if you will come. Lord Tatiseigi says he will be courteous. I shall always remember your help and hope for you to send help here as soon as possible. The aiji-dowager and Lord Tatiseigi both asked me to write to you.”
“Hmmph,” from Tatiseigi.
“Perfectly fine,” Ilisidi said, and asked Tatiseigi, “Does it suit?”
A scowl. “Well enough.”
She drew her ring from her finger. “Seal it without comment. Tati-ji, he will do the same for you.”
Tatiseigi drew off his own seal ring, and gave it into Cajeiri’s hand with a scowl.
The boy walked back to the table, lit the wax-jack, and in very short order produced a properly furled missive, liberally done up with heavy wax and two ancient personal seals.
He returned each ring, his great-grandmother’s first, then Tatiseigi’s, and both rings went back onto fingers.
“So. Which of your staff will you spare for this errand?” Tatiseigi asked. “I will not subject my staff to Taiben’s insolent behavior.”
“My great-grandson himself has the means, and the best messengers we could send.” Ilisidi waved a hand at Cajeiri.
“Dispatch your message, great-grandson. Your grand-uncle will clear the way for them. He will take the western defenses down for an hour and give them free passage.”
Cajeiri’s face had a rigid look as he looked at the old man. Go tell his young followers to undertake what might be an extremely dangerous ride, if Kadigidi had gotten into Atageini territory? Cajeiri surely realized what Ilisidi was asking, and Ilisidi herself had not volunteered a protective escort. Nawari, who had watched over the young folk, was nowhere mentioned in the equation.
“Go, go, boy.” Tatiseigi waved a dismissive hand. “All these things. Granted. Enough!”
Cajeiri bowed stiffly, took the message and left the room.
“A damnable situation you put us in, nand’ Sidi,” Tatiseigi said.
“Is it not?” Ilisidi said. “But in the meanwhile, our three staffs need to consult closely together, Tati-ji, with perfect accord and frankness. And who knows? The Taibeni may even respond favorably to the approach. They know I am here. They know we are your allies and that we may secure your benevolent cooperation… ”
“And thereby open our defenses to illicit incursions, people who will likely make holes in our fences. You let them scout us out, and lay us wide open to their own mischief, to exercise what they call their hunting rights, damn them, which will be more trouble to us in future than the Kadigidi ever have been! You will not, I say, not give them our access codes.”
“Your secrets are absolutely your secrets, quite firmly so, Tati-ji. We are certain the paidhi will agree, too, that what you tell us in confidence will remain as secret as within your own staff.”
Bren gave a deep nod to that proposition. “With utmost appreciation of the sensitivity of such information, nandi, we have no hesitation to issue reassurances. My staff would not breach such a confidence, and they are no minor members of their Guild. I assure you, nandi. I have been a target no few times, and I am still here.”
That chanced, unaccountably, to amuse the old lord. “So have we all, paidhi-aiji. And we are all still here.”