“And rivalries, nandi. They will have rivalries and a tradition of armed conflict.”
“Rivalries that the aforesaid guilds will moderate. Forcibly if need be, but by denial of benefits which will push politics into motion, nandi, and stopwars, as against the interest of this and that entity.”
“This is a dream.”
“It is the aiji-dowager’s dream, nandi, and one suspects you may have heard pieces of it long before she ever brought it into operation. I know that she has been passionate about this from far back, and I believe it has, in this precise moment, found its best opportunity. She is doing more in the East than see to the marriage of Lord Geigi’s misbehaving nephew. She will be talking to numerous of her associates and allies; hence the unforecast delay in her return. One is quite certain that she would not have left so many unresolved questions in my hands if she had had a choice, and it is with the greatest trepidation, nandi, that I have approached you in her stead—hoping to bring you current with everything, because you are so very necessary to her hopes and plans. Therefore, before undertaking any such approach, one felt obliged to satisfy the debt to your hospitality, a debt in which I feel very strongly at disadvantage. It moved me to begin by showing you, even before I bring a similar piece before the Merchants’ Guild, an example of the best of the Marid and to make it yours, in small token of my indebtedness. The work is inspired by the great pillars that stand in the Residency of Tanaja, and I hope I have not offended you in such a gift. It comes from me, not at all from Lord Machigi. I was insistent on that point. And it comes only of my gratitude for your hospitality, no more, no less.”
Oh, that was laying it on. Tatiseigi shot him a straight-on look from under his brows and said, with an increasing level of interest: “Most thoughtful. Your level of taste is quite unexpectedly high, nand’ paidhi.”
And another layer of modesty. “It comes from the hand of an artist respected in Tanaja. I hoped it would suit.”
“It is extraordinary,” Tatiseigi said, for the first time allowing passion to creep into his voice. “It is quite extraordinary. If it is truly from you, and not from that scoundrel Machigi, one may accept it.”
“It is assuredly from me, nandi, as a personal gift that I was happy to make.”
“Ha. Well.” The old man gave a little bow in place and looked as happy as ever one could remember him. “Then one is pleased to accept such a sentiment. My collection at Tirnamardi boasts an item of blue glaze. Do you know what that means?”
“That such an item is a great treasure, nandi, and very, very old.”
“It is only a single cup, but priceless, from the Saie Period.”
Thank God for a little reading—it was before the Great Wave.
“One is astonished. My meager knowledge does tell me it is a true museum piece.”
“It was a time of better relations,” Tatiseigi said. “The artist was Diadin. A signed piece. We understand there are but three in existence.”
It was an hour before he could manage an escape. Lord Tatiseigi had found an audience. And the old man’s expertise was impressive.
“Nandi,” Bren said in parting, “one has so enjoyed this meeting—and the discussion with someone of your breadth of knowledge. I shall certainly look at the Bujavid collection with a more discerning eye, now, and since the very first items in trade that are proposed under the agreement are porcelains and artworks, there can be no better advisor to whom I may refer, if you will be so kind. There is another piece, which Machigi himself ordered from the same artist, for a gift to the aiji and the people of the aishidi’tat, which will be on exhibition in the lower hall. This one I chose for you shows no difference in quality that my untutored eye can discern. The other will be on limited exhibit at first, but one would be veryinterested to hear your expert assessment of it, and therefore of Machigi’s seriousness in paying a courtesy to Tabini-aiji. If you would possibly find time to view it, one would be glad to have your expert opinion. I confess I chose this one for its beautiful greens, which I intended to honor the Atageini colors.”
“The piece will have a place of honor,” Tatiseigi said. “And I shallperhaps find time to stroll downstairs.”
It had actually gone very well, in all points. Lord Tatiseigi had found an appreciative audience and (which Tatiseigi might regret once he recalled it) had for the first time conversed with him as if he were a social equal, even an intimate.
To top all, Tatiseigi let himself be drafted as the resident porcelain expert. Which he truly was, along with Lord Geigi.
And when the business got to the Merchants’ Guild, there was no better nor more impressive expert than Tatiseigi to bring before that committee.
He didn’t dare comment to his bodyguard beyond the fact that he was happy. It seemed apt to jinx a run of good luck.
Rumors dictated the rest of the day—rumors that came shooting up to the message-bowl via the downstairs office, rumors that had to be gotten ahead of and answered or, in some cases, accommodated with an appointment. The head of the Transport Guild had heard rumors of new rail lines, and the Merchants’ Guild was even more wrought up, having heard rumors of a Marid factor opening an office on the East Coast and—greater shock—about to open one in Shejidan.
Hehadn’t said anything on that score. It was coming from elsewhere, possibly from the Marid, possibly from the Marid via the Guild.
But before he could even ask—“Lord Machigi has named his representative, Bren-ji,” Jago informed him, dropping by the door of his office. “And the Guild has in mind a safe and appropriate lodging for the mission.”
The Guild was handling it. Of course they were.
Which was a great relief, despite the surety that the Guild was shoving politics again. Finding anylodgings within easy distance of the Bujavid, considering the legislature going into session, was a miracle in itself. The hotel would be filling up. Every lodging to let was let far in advance. And the several hotels slightly farther away would be filling.