Maybe he’d surprised Machigi a little, informing him that the four bodyguards he had trusted would get authority—an authority that was only going to increase, as the Guild found Tema and his men had the brains and the guts to bethe bodyguard of a lord of the aishidi’tat. And the Guild would find exactly that. These four knew their district as outsiders did not. They, working practically solo, had kept their lord and their district out of the hands of Guild that they had, on their own, decided were up to no good—they’d been entirely right— andthey’d organized a resistance to that movement that had kept their lord alive and free, while the Guild in Shejidan delayed taking action.
Brains. And guts. They’d become a major target of the shadow Guild, right along with their lord, and they’d stayed alive.
What he hadn’t said was that that very smart foursome had decided, long before Machigi had, that if push came to shove, they would have to link with the Guild in Shejidan, and hope.
That probably had happened one particular evening when he had arrived in Tanaja the first time. The Guild in Shejidan had likely told Machigi’s bodyguard to talk to Algini—and they’d done it, possibly without a real clue what Algini actually was.
He’d love to have thatstory out of Algini. But the Guild buried such details; and just knowing what the channels had been at any given time was more information than one normally ever got out of the Guild.
He’d been entirely accurate in what he’d just told the ministers, however. He was sure of it—as he was sure Tano and Algini had been talking to half of Machigi’s bodyguard while he’d been having brandy with Machigi.
He was veryglad to see the rest of his bodyguard in good spirits as they reached the suite. Hand-signs flashed. That sigh and relaxation as Banichi sank into a comfortable chair and leaned back said everything.
They were in. They were safe. Machigi was going to survive this and have the Guild behind him if Machigi used half the sense that had gotten him this far. He was protected by four very remarkable men—and the aishidi’tat owed those four a debt it probably never would repay.
Algini sat down, too, in a state of relaxation. Tano generally looked pleasant and cheerful. When Algini let a sparkle get to his eyes, it was outright celebration.
Jago—Jago just took his coat, and said, in prim formality, “The household servants wish to attend you, nandi. Shall they start the bath?”
Mmm, yes. They were bugged. Anybody in this room was bugged. Maybe now it was Shejidan Guild doing the listening. Or maybe it wasn’t. Any great house was complex.
“One understands,” he said. “Yes. That will be good, Jago-ji.”
The servants came in, bringing a rolling cart with a small buffet for his bodyguard. They had had neither food nor drink yet under this roof. And they would still enjoy it two at a time.
A servant went into the back hall to start a hot bath running. And he could take off the damned protective vest and relax. All indications were that their follow-up mission was going well, so far.
Oh, that was good. That was very good.
“Work it out,” was all Tabini had given him in the way of instruction, aside from what Ilisidi had told him. “If you can make this mad scheme of my grandmother’s work, do so.”
His job was onlyto bring an eighth of the continent under a central authority it had resisted for centuries.
His job was, besides that, to nudge the very traditional, generally backward Marid into the current century, and get all the Guilds and their regulations accepted in the south, which had no habit of education outside the parents’ trade at all, and no institutions of higher learning except the esoteric college of kabiu.
One step at a time, he told himself. It was miracle enough that they were here and that Machigi had just figured out that he did actually command the Guild, if he only used it creatively within Guild regulations.
First somebody had to educate Machigi in what those regulations were—and that would have to be Tema and his men, once theyfigured out the figurative rule book as it now existed in Shejidan.
All of that was somebody else’s job. Tano and Algini, not to mention the Guild assigned here by the Guild in Shejidan, might have already made a start on it.
Meanwhile, the paidhi-aiji was going to take a long, soaking bath. And go to bed.
Morning came none too soon, in a discreetly solitary bed and with far too much to think about to lie there for long. The servants had arrived—it was an even earlier start to their day—and one was very glad to get moving on what was, however it turned out, going to be a long day’s agenda. One hoped it was going to be a day ending in Shejidan. But that might depend on how breakfast went.
It was at least not the formal dining room for breakfast, with ministers and spouses and all. It was an intimate breakfast room decorated in white porcelain tile and a table set, thank God, only for two.
Machigi came in, which signaled the kitchen, and for a time thereafter it was a conversation confined to the dishes, which were numerous and delicate, though small, and every dish considerate of a human’s dietary restrictions.
One had to do the meal proper courtesy.
“Your remarks about the Guild,” Machigi said at last, over tea.
“Nandi.”
“My aishid reports an encouraging expression from the Guild this morning.”
“Excellent news, nandi. One hopes to see a good outcome. The center of local Guild authority will be here, in this building— in the architecture one hopes to see established. But that will be yours to establish. The Guild, quite naturally, prefers notto see its members set at each other when there is a more reasonable answer.”
“We want to see the final draft of this promised document, nandi. And mind, we shall not tolerate last-moment surprises, especially in public.”
“It will be exactly as you have seen it, nandi. And once that all-important association exists—and this is the best news from Shejidan, which I have particularly wanted to tell you in some privacy, nandi—”
“Say it.”
“Tabini-aiji will recognize the new Marid association as an official region of the aishidi’tat. That will require a realignment of Guild structure and a formal agreement with the new regional structure—that is to say, you,nandi. The various Guilds will each present more papers, which you may or may not sign, but which the dowager will strongly suggest you signc”
“A region.”
“Just so.”
“What do youadvise, paidhi?”
“One advises you sign them as they are crafted. These will be organizational and routine, recognizing you as the aiji of the Marid Association: it is all the same language as the ordinary agreements, nandi, but words in this case that have power to revise reality. As the executive of the Marid, you will be the channel for all Guild applications, down to every scrap of paper. One recommends the establishment of clerical offices to deal with it. One recommends, in fact, computers.”
“Computers. We do not have phonesin the villages, paidhi.”