“One is hardly sure it is alwayslogical.”
“We are sure of nothing in our most basic feelings.” Geigi laughed. “And thatis what we have in common. I think we may have attained wisdom, Bren-ji.”
Wisdom it might be. But one still wished one entirely understood what was in the minds of the principals of the upcoming agreement. Man’chi—maybe. A face-to-face meeting could affect that.
And it was coming closer.
Jago came in, and he broke to receive her report that they were in contact with Machigi’s plane and that that plane was on approach to the airport. Lady Siadi was on her way to meet Machigi and escort him to the de facto embassy.
A veritable deluge of flowers had arrived at the Taisigi trade mission, Jago said, one offering from, of course, themselves, one from the dowager, one from Lord Tatiseigi—one was amazed to hear that and thought that Ilisidi had probably applied pressure. Not quite as amazing, there was one from Lord Dur, up in the northern Isles.
There was also, from the trade mission, reported receipt of a floral arrangement from, of all sources, the Kadagidi, who had certainly been behind the attempts on Machigi’s life. The Guild had informed Lady Siadi of its arrival and asked what to do, and Lady Siadi had ordered it rerouted to—one could only imagine the consternation—Lady Tiajo of the Dojisigi, with a note regarding its origin and route.
One could only appreciate the gesture, and one was sure Geigi would particularly appreciate it.
Tiajo, the replacement for her late uncle—holding her lordship over the Dojisigi with Guild at her elbow and around every corner—would not likely put that arrangement on display. Likely the unfortunate bouquet would meet an indecorous end, if the young lady knew how to read a threatening gesture and correctly interpret its message: Your clan’s connection to the Kadagidi is not forgotten. Particularly when they make a threatening and insulting move.And if Tiajo failed to interpret it correctly, it was very likely the Guild would make it clear to her andher father.
Meanwhile, the paidhi-aiji could contemplate sending a bouquet of his own to the Kadadigi. There were other than felicitous ones. He was verystrongly tempted. Two dead flowers would do.
But best Machigi do the honors, once he was back in the Marid and secure in his own residence. No sense stirring things up further.
He had included his message with the floral courtesy he had arranged this morning, a personally penned note, which said,
Felicitations on your arrival, nandi, and please be assured that representatives of the Assassins’ Guild, allied to your own bodyguard and mine, have taken direction of security at and around your residence, and that all things in my awareness are proceeding well.
You will surely have heard that the aiji-dowager is now in residence and that the signing will go forward.
Please accept these flowers and sentiments presented in your foyer as expressions of hope for this agreement.
Signed and sealed.
And to hell with the Kadagidi, who, given a chance to remake both their image and their actual record, seemed bent on the same damned course of agitation as before. The chance for peace seemed to focus now on prying the whole northern Marid out of the idea that the Kadagidi were allies. Lady Siadi, doubtless quietly consulting with Machigi, and Machigi with the advice his own bodyguard, had just taken a major first step in that effort, in rerouting, of all things, a bouquet of flowers.
He went back to the table where Geigi waited with tolerably good news.
16
There was no sign of Boji, and now there was worse: Grandfatherwas coming. Grandfather had rented quarters down in the hotel district, and he intended to stay there, and he was coming this afternoon, late, and Mother had told Cook that she would have dinner with her father.
It was grim, that was what. Just grim.
Cajeiri had watched all day, all day, for Boji to show up; and his bodyguard had been on watch, and now it was sunset, and Mother was dressing for dinner, which he was doing, too, but he was exhausted. It was amazing how tired one could get, just sitting and watching one little doorway, and having to wait, if one had to go to the accommodation, for one of his bodyguards to come in to report. Somebody had to watch the door. And Eisi, who came in to help him dress, was too uncertain. Eisi would have no idea how to catch Boji. He was not sure hedid.
And then people were going to be coming and going by the front door, and it was just going to be a lot of noise and servants opening and shutting doorschis father was off at a meeting and might not be back for supper. Which would leave him alone with Mother and Grandfather.
He had no choice about it. He had insisted on dressing in the sitting room, which distressed Eisi, but he had his way about it. He had to be on best behavior, and he knew everybody would be upset about that. He was without his bodyguard at the moment, but Antaro remedied that, coming in quietly and quietly scooping up the egg by the door.
“There will be a formal dinner tonight, Taro-ji,” he said to her.
“Yes,” Antaro said, encompassing the whole situation.
And suddenly the most alarming shriek resounded through the whole apartment.
“Damn!” he said in ship-speak and ran for the hall door, not faster than Antaro.
“Get it out of here!”
That was his mother’s voice. From down the hall.
He ran for the door, his bodyguard right behind him, and skidded on the tiles in a fast turn for his mother’s suite. Ahead of him he saw his mother’s bodyguard and some of his father’s exit the security station and head in the same direction, toward the very end of the hall, where his mother’s suite door stood open.
The bodyguard had the door and was not going to let him or his guard in, but he ducked and got under a forbidding arm. His mother and her servants were in front of the beautiful windows, by the lace-covered crib, looking up above the windows.
“Get it!” she shouted, and at the yellow top of the room, up among the lace draperies, raced a small black streak, leaping from drape to drape.
“Close the windows!” Cajeiri cried, because the tall windows were all standing wide open. “Quick, close the windows! Boji! Boji! Come!”
Boji shrieked, then turned and jumped from curtain top to curtain top, coming his way. Cajeiri flung up his hands, and a black missile hurtled through his hands and hit him right in the chest at full force, arms around his neck. He stumbled backwards—would have fallen, except for his mother’s bodyguard. Boji clawed his coat and shirt, trying to get into his collar, and he hugged Boji tight, wrapping him in his coat as he gained his balance. His mother was shouting about her lace and her nursery and that animal, which was not quieting Boji at all.
One of his mother’s guard tried to take Boji from him.
“No!” he said, holding on; the woman got hold of Boji, and Boji bit the woman. Blood spurted all over, the bodyguard reacted, and his mother yelled, “Get that animal!”
“Stop them!” he yelled at his own guard, and twisted away to protect Boji, ducking behind Antaro.
“Daja-ma!” the wounded bodyguard cried, and the whole room froze. Cajeiri stood back in shock, with blood all over his coat and his young bodyguard making a wall between him and his mother’s very senior and meaning-business bodyguard, two men and two women. “You stay back!” he shouted at them. “Mother, honored Mother, he has done nothing wrong!”