“Walked in,” Algini said. “From the Kadagidi township.”
A hesitation. But geography made it obvious. “From the Kadagidi estate, nadi.”
“When?”
That was the question, Bren thought. How?ran right beside it.
“Five days ago. We were directed simply to get into the garage, substitute ourselves for the garage staff—and wait until Lord Tatiseigi arrived at the train station and called for his car.”
“Give us the detail,” Algini said. “How were you to accomplish this?”
“It was all laid out. We were to come onto the grounds by the back gate, keep well to the north hedge until we had passed the stables. We were to find an iron plate under the vines, in the corner near the arbor, and that would get us to the water system—we should work behind the pump housing, and follow the pipe to an access.”
“Which access?” Banichi asked. “Where?”
“Beside the hot water tank.”
“Go on,” Banichi said.
“We were to deal with the staff,” Momichi said. “We did notwant to kill any of the staff. We were prepared to keep the garage crew drugged and confined. But when we got in—there was no one there. So we thought—they are on leave; they will come back when their lord advises them he is coming. We just need to wait. Our information said the garage staff used its own kitchen, rarely mixed with the rest of the staff—that it was very likely no one would come to the garage at all, except the garage staff when they came back. That was the plan. But there was no one there. We never used the lights. We never used the stove. We just waited.” Momichi drew breath. “Then two days on, the house began to stir. And grew busy, as if there was something going on. We caught some voices, and we began to realize there was a great deal of construction going on in the house and on the roof. We went out through the trap, onto the garage roof, that night, and we saw a patrol, Taibeni, on mecheiti, on the front grounds; we saw a glow against the hedges, lights moving. We had no idea what to think—whether Taibeni had occupied the Atageini lord’s estate, or whether theywere preparing an ambush— We stayed very quiet. We thought, if they kill Lord Tatiseigi, the garage staff may not come back. But everything had changed. We decided to stay to find out what was going on—but then we began to realize it was more than Taibeni, that there were other Guild about. And nothing made sense. We thought—we might take the car, claim we were on some errand, and drive out the gate—granted the Taibeni would not know the regular staff. But we decided we might still accomplish what we were sent to do; and even if we failed at that—if we could find out what was going on at Tirnamardi, we might be able to trade that information to the rebels.
“Then we realized Lord Tatiseigi had come home without calling for his car—that the aiji-dowager was in the house. That was the point at which we decided we were in something so far beyond our understanding—it could bring the whole north and East down on the Marid. We thought—we even thought of simply calling on the house phone and reporting ourselves. But we thought—the rebels would get the news. So we opened the same access and tried to leave. Going straight forward, we immediately set off an alarm on the premises. We had used up our only defense against the mecheiti—to keep them from finding the access. We decided to make a second try, but we knew we would never make it on foot if another alarm sounded and the mecheiti were let loose. We thought of taking the car—but doubted we could ram the gate. We thought then—if not afoot—then we might use the mecheiti native to the grounds. If we could bridle two of the leaders while they were settled for the night, we could loose the herd, ride for the east gate and hope the mecheiti would create enough confusion with the Taibeni riders for us to get through the gate. Well, it was a foolhardy idea.” Momichi sighed and shook his head. “We no more than opened the door when some night creature bolted across the rails setting up a racket, the mecheiti all rose up in a panic—and a shot went off. At that point—we ran. We just ran.”
Boji, Bren thought. Boji.Of all damnable things.
“We expected,” Momichi said, “the Atageini would immediately loose the herd on us. We headed for the trees. We made it a distance into the woods, and since we had not had the Atageini herd behind us—we were expecting the Taibeni riders. They cut us off. We climbed for it. We had our rifles. They had theirs. We shouted back and forth a while. We exchanged views—they were upset about the black powder. We granted their point. And we knew the danger should the report about us get out to the south—we told them about that. They said that we could present our case to the aiji-dowager and Lord Tatiseigi, and you, but that they had no sympathy. So we said—if we could talk to you, nandi, we would surrender. And we did.”
If there was bad luck to be had, Bren thought, these two had found it at every turn—bad luck their security had arranged, true. But bad luck that had come full about. These two had come back alive.
And, damn, the expressions looked sincere. They were exhausted, they had spent days in a situation progressively going to hell, and their story made sense, step by miserable next step, so that he was almost inclined to believe them. They’d had rifles. They’d had a chance to use them. They saidthey’d come for one target, only one—strictly regulation, give or take the lack of a Filing. They had not harmed anybody on staff. At the end, they hadn’t shot it out with the Taibeni or aimed at the mecheiti—which had probably persuaded the Taibeni to stand back and talk them down.
He hopedhis aishid could figure them out: he looked at Algini, and at Jago, who gave no offender any grace.
“You posed us quite a difficulty,” Algini said to the pair in an easier tone. “You are notvillage-level.”
“No, nadi.” No hesitation in that answer. A little return of spirit.
“Where assigned?”
“We served in Amarja, nadi,” Momichi said. “In the citadel.”
“In whose man’chi?” Algini asked.
“In the aiji’s,” came the curt answer. “But not thisaiji.”
Thislord of Dojisigi clan, and aiji of a quarter of the Marid at the moment, was a fifteen-year-old spoiled brat of a girl, who had once expected to marry Tatiseigi’s nephew. She was twice lucky—first that the nephew had been packed off to the East, and second, that she was alive, and thus far getting her own way, where it regarded personal comforts and the illusion that she was in charge of the district.
But was young Tiajo likely to remain in office another year? Bets inside and outside the Marid ran counter to that. She was lord only because she was next in line, though under house arrest. She might have been a convenient rallying-point for the remnant of the Shadow Guild, but evidently even theyhad found her more liability than asset.
“Does your partner have a voice?” Banichi asked.
“Nadi,” Homuri said. “Yes.”
“ Whywere you in your village?”
“We were dismissed from the citadel,” Homuri said, “when the Shejidani Guild took over. We were told, all of us, to go separately back to our home districts, our own villages, and maintain order. We went to Reijisan. We both came from there. Our partners went another direction. To Meitja.”
“And with your skills, you could not protect this village?”
“Nadi,” Homuri said, “we could not. They took our weapons.”
“Who took them?”
“The Shejidani Guild. They confiscated all our weapons, all our equipment. When they sent us out, we went afoot, with nothing,nadi, from the point the truck dropped us, a day’s walk from our village. We had no communications, no weapons, no equipment, not even a canteen or a folding knife.”
“In the night,” Momichi said, “when the rebels drove this truck into the center of the village—we were called out. They said in the hearing of the whole village that it was full of explosives, and that if we did not come meet with them, they would set it off. So we did. They gave us their proposition, that we undertake an easy, limited mission, one man, and when they had news Lord Tatiseigi was dead—they would leave the village and we would never see them again.”