There was no likelihood that the paidhi-aiji was going to have to host a formal dinner for the signing, so Bindanda, who was sending out daily orders for this and that exotic item—mostly staples that had to be gotten from Mospheira, so as not to poison his lord—was not going to have to present a formal service amid everything else that was going on in the household. They did not want to go into the evening’s event with a heavy supper sitting on their stomachs; there was to be a little refreshment at a reception afterward, and the decision on a very light cold supper perfectly suited the kitchen.
“The boy you have engaged to assist me is intelligent and willing, nandi,” Bindanda said, arms tucked tightly across his stout frame, “and there are excellent possibilities in him, but one would not gladly undertake a dinner party as yet with only Pai for help.”
So Bindanda was off the hook and glad of it.
Narani, however, that estimable old man, was not. He had a great deal of work to do, including arranging yet another bulletproof vest—a change in brocade to go with the brown tones as well as the blue and the green—and being sure a young staff had every item of the paidhi’s court wardrobe ready not only for this evening on short notice, but for any of a number of meetings that might follow.
“One begs to urge that you need more shirts, nandi,” Narani informed him. “Five more, at minimum. And more socks. One has made a list, which one would be pleased to send to the usual supplier on Mospheira. And a session with the tailor is in order: We need one more vest, in a modest gray-green. And, nandi, one is certain one remembers the brown coat from beforewe went up to the stationc.”
One had to agree that a new coat or two might be in order. “But the brown coat is my most comfortable, Rani-ji. One wishes to keep it—for quiet, home occasions.”
“It was always an excellent coat, nandi,” Narani said, and one had confidence that his favorite coat would be safe and made as presentable as possible until it simply wore out.
Geigi’s own major d’ and staff were simultaneously working Geigi’s needs into the schedule; his wardrobe and that of his staff had to be in proper form for this evening.
And beyond that—
Beyond that, he and Geigi had nothing personally to do at this point but to exchange information and wait for events to play out, for Machigi to arrive in Shejidan, then settle into the Marid trade mission and get ready. The signing was set for the evening, and the word was out. Several lords, including Lord Dur, Adigan, and his son, were coming in by plane—by commercial plane, this time, unusual for the younger lord, but he was accompanying his father. The Edi and the Gan peoples were not sending representatives, but the new lord of the Maschi was coming. No few of the minor lords were coming in on short notice, some by train, some by plane.
Among the latter—the lord of the Ajuri. They had word of that along with the news of the others, and what the lord of the Ajuri wanted, no one was certain. He was not in the Conservative Caucus, was not speaking to Lord Tatiseigi, and had absolutely no interests on the west coast or the east. His sudden appearance on the scene roused some question, given the matters the aiji had mentioned, but that was Tabini’s problem, on a completely different front. He would not have an invitation to the event, one was quite certain, and one hoped he had a hotel reservation and didn’t plan to move in next doorcone hopednot, and one didn’t think he’d get such an invitation, no matter the situation in the city, where no few of those who wereinvited to an event on short notice were going to be calling in favors for lodging. The paidhi would have invited Dur, but he had Geigi, and no more room. Suites in hotels at any close distance were absolutely full-up where it reguarded suites. A room,possibly, could be had. But status was at stake.
So various staffs would be going mad, trying to outfit various lords for a court event, trying to assure on-time arrival, possibly from lodging clear across the city—and trying to assure their lord was decently fed before the event, which meant catering was going to be at a premium, as well.
In that thought—he did inquired about Dur’s arrangements but was assured he would dine on the flight.
So that was managed, and the new lord of the Maschi was not yet of status or seniority enough to be invited to dinner preceding so important an occasion. It was safest not to ruffle the waters of protocol; he would just stay quiet and not do anything remarkable this evening until he and Geigi had to go down to the affair, at a time decorously just ahead of the dowager’s arrival—staff would handle the timing.
He told his staff to advise him if any message arrived or any news broke.
And after the initial flurry of arranging things with staff, and with so short a time left, he felt himself incapable of focusing on any extraneous business. Geigi agreed he was in the same condition—so he and Geigi sat at the table in the sitting room and played cards, game after game. As a host, one did feel somewhat a failure in the matter of entertainment, but poker afforded a chance to occupy one’s mind and simultaneously carry on a bit of conversation—as they did, somewhat erratically. Playing poker with an ateva was calculated suicide, but he did win now and again in moments when Geigi’s attention, for his own reasons, lapsed off into the event bearing down on them.
Their sole job now was to stay out of the way of staff. Tano did pop into the sitting room to report that, yes, Machigi had reached the regional airport, had chosen to go out from there on a smaller plane, rather than go down to the larger airport at Separti, and would arrive at a good hour.
Arrangements for his protection were in place, Tano said, and Lady Siodi had requested Guild assistance to set up a proper private dinner, which had to be catered from across the street, one supposed. Machigi would get something to eat before the signing—nobody wanted to face a political problem on an empty stomach.
And the efficiency of staff contacting staff meant that by now Tabini was as unofficially in the loop as he wished to be—which was, for public consumption, not involved at all—and only Ilisidi’s staff was quietly working with Bujavid offices regarding the venue for the signing.
Banichi came in to report that set-up was finished in the downstairs reception hall and was undergoing a security check, and that the Guild was satisfied with arrangements for Machigi’s travel to and from the Taisigi trade mission.
By now, if the paidhi were playing for more than points, he would have been sunk in debt.
They tried small talk, which did nothing for one’s card-playing; by luck, the mail this afternoon had involved a report on the construction at Najida, and that carried into an engaging conversation with Geigi—and two lost hands—on the merits of native stone and wood as a theme for Najida’s new wing and the relocation of the sitting room into the new wing, with a window looking out over Najida Bay.
“A brilliant notion,” Geigi called it. “And what for the old sitting room? It was always quite convenient to the front door. One imagines the paidhi-aiji might enjoy the state of a reception hall.”
“Oh, one thinks not,” Bren said with a laugh. “One finds oneself quite content with the character of a country lord, nothing so grand as a reception hall in my house. One was actually thinking of making it another guest suite. And yet another idea was relocating my own quarters to the new wing and having the entire front hall for my guests. Guests were never a consideration in the original arrangements at Najida.”
“The old lords were never a social lot,” Geigi said. “But you are quite apt to have a cluster of associates dropping by with large staffs, never forgetting the young gentleman. You may need that new wing to extend to the road.”