Perhaps they had no idea Great-uncle had come home. But there had been a lot of noise and dust at the train station, and along the road. It was hard not to be noticed, if there had been anybody paying attention.
If they were prowling around because they knew who Great-uncle’s guests were, they were stupid, and bad things could happen, and if people started shooting he was going to be really mad.
But he could not be scowling and making his guests worried. They had had the alarm. They had been escorted upstairs. Then they had Jase-aiji with them—Jase-aiji was sitting in a chair, commiserating with them about Boji escaping, being pleasant otherwise, and casual. But Kaplan and Polano had come in not too long after, and sat over across the room, wearing sidearms, which of course his own bodyguard did, too—but it was just not that usual with the ship-folk. He knew it. His aishid didn’t. But his guests had certainly given their presence an uneasy look.
Now Antaro and Jegari had come in from the hall—Lucasi and Veijico were already with them, over near the window, keeping a watch there; and straightway Antaro went over to Jase and Jegari came to him.
“Your great-grandmother’s bodyguard’s word, nandi. She wishes you to go to the sitting room.”
Him. Only him. In Ragi it was perfectly clear.
“Why?” he asked. “Is my father all right?”
“As far as we know,” Jegari said, “everyone is safe.” He added, “One of the house staff says she saw Boji, nandi, right when I was outside. I could not see him, but she says he was up on the haystacks. And there is water in the mecheiti troughs. There is every good chance he will stay where he is. We cannot go out there during the security alert. But we may be able to lure him down if he gets hungry.”
“If a mecheita does not step on him,” Cajeiri said, rising to his feet. “Nadiin-ji,” he began, then decided on ship-speak. “Mani wants me,” he said to his guests. “I have to go. Back real soon.”
“Nandi,” Gene said and got up and gave a proper little bow, much more than he really was obliged to do, but the others did, too, and Jase nodded.
Jegari was with him. Antaro joined him. Lucasi and Veijico looked at him and he thought if there was anything mani had to tell him it could well be about Grandfather, and that was Guild business. It would be a good idea for his entire aishid to go. He gave a nod to them, they fell in and they were not the only ones out in the hall. Nand’ Bren and his aishid were headed down the stairs, and his aishid, Antaro and Jegari foremost, headed downstairs right after them.
Not a question of going down to mani’s suite, down the hall, then, but downstairs, onto the main floor. He quickened his pace, and arrived at the door of the sitting room not far behind nand’ Bren and hisbodyguard. It was Banichi and Jago who took up guard outside, and Tano and Algini who went inside with nand’ Bren, which was unusual in itself.
It made him think fast about his own aishid: Jegari and Antaro were seniormost in his household, and they knew the Padi Valley up and down; but Veijico and Lucasi were senior in Guild rank, and he reversed the usual order of his bodyguard, too, said, “Taro-ji, Gari-ji, take the door,” straightened his coat, and went in with Lucasi and Veijico.
Mani was there, no question. So was Great-uncle. And nand’ Bren. And he was the last piece, he decided. He paid a quiet to bow to mani and to Uncle, and a lesser one to nand’ Bren, and picked the chair beside him.
There was tea. So it was not an outright emergency and nobody else was dead. He took a cup that the servant offered him, and they all sat and sipped tea awhile, until he was not breathing hard, and his heart had settled. And he was being included with the adults. That was something. Things were serious, but they called him to tell him what was going on. He was a few days short of felicitous nine, and he was being taken seriously, more than ever in his life.
So he put on his best manners, and drank at the rate everybody else did, and when mani set her cup down, he set his down, finished or not; and everybody else did.
Then Great-uncle said something very unusual. He said, “Only bodyguards may remain. Clear the room, nadiin-ji.”
The servants left, all of them.
“Paidhi,” Great-grandmother said, “for convenience of language and accuracy, we leave Jase-aiji to wait for your briefing. You may relay to him the nature and content of what we say—be somewhat sparing of detail internal to the Guild. You have been briefed already by your aishid.”
Nand’ Bren said, “Yes, aiji-ma.”
“Well,” Great-grandmother said, “Great-grandson.”
“Mani.” If he were littler he would have stood up at that tone. He was nearly nine, and twitched, but he stayed seated, and only gave a polite nod.
“You know that your grandfather was one reason for the security surrounding your birthday celebration. You know that since this morning he is no longer at issue.”
“Yes, mani.”
“You also know that your great-uncle, while he has reached agreement with his neighbors to the west, has not been at peace with his neighbors to the east.”
“The Kadagidi, mani. My father banned Lord Aseida. He is Murini’s cousin.”
“There is another man of that clan,” mani said, “who is more worrisome than the lord of the Kadagidi. Lord Aseida’s chief bodyguard, Haikuti. Pay attention, and I shall tell you a little story about this Haikuti.”
“Mani.”
“He was born Kadagidi, he trained in the Guild. He and his team reentered Kadagidi service some five years before the Troubles—Aseida’s bodyguard, which had been with him from his youth, had been removed.”
That was a scary thought. Bodyguards did not get removed.
“They were reassigned to a Dojisigi house. We would like to know more about their current whereabouts. Murini was in the Dojisigin Marid—more than once—prior to his attack on your father. Aseida stayed at home. He was a student. He and several others of the Kadagidi youth were frequently in the Kadagidi township, frequently drunk, frequently a difficulty for the town Council, and an ongoing expense for his father, who died under questionable circumstances.”
That meant—possibly he was assassinated.
“Kadagidi of various houses have been a nuisance for years, quarreling with your great-uncle over land—several times with your father over complaints from their neighbors. They have five townships, seventeen villages, and they dispute the possession of a hunting range with the Atageini. They have overhunted. They have founded one village without license, and attempted to attach it to the disputed range. They have a sizeable vote in the hasdrawad and they have weight in the tashrid when they are not banned from court, which has happened three times in my own memory. They have connections in the Dojisigin Marid, and of course—they are Murini’s clan. Exactly. They are one of the five original signers of the association of the aishidi’tat, and a permanent ban would be politically difficult—not to mention a disenfranchisement of a large number of farmers and tradesmen who have committed no fault but to be born to a clan whose ruling house has multiplied in numbers and declined in all social usefulness.” Mani’s voice was clipped and angry. “Which adequately describes that nest. Murini had some intelligence. He made contacts in the Marid—made a marriage with Dojisigi clan, another nest of trouble—which formed an alliance that greatly worried his neighbors and any other person of sense. All this while, Aseida and his fellows were living their useless lives, showing no enterprise in the things they should have been doing. Staff saved them. Things were done, efficiently and well—give or take a little dispute with your great-uncle.”
Great-uncle looked angry just thinking about it.
“Murini came in. Things changed—one would have said, for the better, if one were a town official needing action. The staff grew larger. Aseida and his useless associates no longer came to the township. Security tightened. Murini, back and forth between the Padi Valley and the Marid, was planning the coup. When your father was overthrown by conspiracy, and nearly killed, Murini left the Kadagidi estate and established himself in Shejidan—never surrendering his lordship over the Kadagidi, but not devoting much attention to it, either. When we drove Murini and his lot out—the ruling house of the Kadagidi clan was nearly wiped out. But not all. This obscure man, this useless man, Aseida, turned up in the Kadagidi lordship, writing numerous apologies to your father for the actions of his cousin. Your father is not deceived about his quality, and has not forgiven the clan.”