“Will you sit this session,” Bren asked, “or will he take the seat, himself?”
“My father has declared he will,” young Dur said. “Which is good for the bills. He carries far more weight than I do.”
“His support is very welcome,” Bren almost had time to say. Cajeiri arrived, with:
“ Nandi! One is very glad to see you!”
Reijiri, he meant. Reijiri was one of Cajeiri’s favorite people in the whole world.
“Young gentleman,” Reijiri said with a bow. “Delighted. One wondered if you would be in attendance this evening.”
“Oh, one is obliged to be here,” Cajeiri said. He had yet another fruit drink in hand–a charge of sugar, instead of the sedation steadily progressing in the company. “One is so bored already with being shut in! Did you come with your plane? Might you possibly, possibly persuade my father to let me go up over the city, just once? Seeing the city from the air would be very educational!”
“Alas, though I do have my plane here, young gentleman, I fear your father would never consent to that, under current circumstances.”
“I am a prisoner in the Bujavid, nandi! I am bored!”
“Are you indeed, young gentleman?” Ilisidi had come up uncommonly silently. “Come, come, a pleasant face, Great‑grandson. Smile. And good evening, nand’ Reijiri. We are so glad to see you.” She laid a hand on Cajeiri’s shoulder, turning him to face the sparser center of the room. “We wish to introduce our great‑grandson to his second cousins.”
“Cousins?” Cajeiri asked, wide‑eyed.
The dreadful cane, only slightly elevated in the press, pointed across the room. A contingent of strangers, two of them younger folk–a girl and a boy, accompanying a father, as seemed–held a corner. They all were Eastern in their dress.
“Calrunaidi clan,” Ilisidi said, which explained everything, even to Cajeiri, and certainly to Bren. He wondered for an instant was one of the two younger folk Maie‑daja, who was now married to Geigi’s nephew.
But no, the girl looked much too young . . . very early teens, closer to Cajeiri’s age.
“We shall introduce you, shall we not?” the dowager said. “Take your leave of Lord Reijiri and nand’ Bren, young gentleman.”
The Calrunaidi had not been at the dinner. That was a piece of delicate footwork, Bren thought. They had not been invited to mix in western politics, but it was mandatory that these people receive careful attention now.
“Nandiin,” Cajeiri said obediently, with a glance at Reijiri. “One has to go.”
“Young gentleman,” Reijiri said solemnly, and bowed, amused.
“Just a few days short of fortunate nine,” Bren said, regarding Cajeiri’s age, and watched Ilisidi maneuver the boy into a meeting.
“Quite a youngster,” Reijiri said.
“He is that.” Bren had an eye on Damiri‑daja, too, who was, yes, entirely aware that her son had been drawn by the dowager into a meeting with relatives of the dowager’s association. Damiri had a smile on her face, but it was thin.
And one did not want to be caught noticing that fact.
“So,” Bren said cheerfully, glancing at Dur, “one wishes you might join us on the train tomorrow, when we deliver Lord Geigi to the spaceport. Might we hope for it?”
“Alas, nand’ paidhi, one would far, far rather, but I have to meet my father at the train station in the city and get him safely to the hotel. He will come in tired and out of sorts, one would never say, confused, and I have all the requisite papers and authorizations and keys. He will never let the major domo have them, and he is bound to be overtired.”
“Indeed.” One less piece in motion tomorrow morning was likely to the good, though he and Geigi would have enjoyed the company. “Ah, but I shall be giving dinner parties this season. A formal card will come when I have a date established; but please, both you and your father, do save room for me on your schedule, sometime before the session ends. I should much enjoy it. And I should be happy to have a quiet evening with you both.”
“I shall answer for my father, in greatest confidence. Consider such an invitation accepted.”
“Excellent.” It was very certain, given the situation with the Ajuri, to the east of Dur, and to the north of Tatiseigi, that those two had an urgent need to establish contact. If he could succeed in managing Tatiseigi at dinner once, with the dowager in attendance, he might try twice, with Dur. He dared not promise anything–but he hoped. “Well, well, I had best go do my job tonight, should I not?”
“Nand’ paidhi.”
A courteous bow, on either side. He and Reijiri broke apart to wander. He targeted a convenient pair of committee heads he had to deal with. He needed those votes on the tribal bill. And he had them reasonably happy on his change of vote on the cell phone bill.
“Paidhi‑aiji.”
Tatiseigi wanted his attention.
Tatiseigi with half a brandy in hand, and several glasses of wine taken at dinner. Overindulgence was not the old man’s habit, but he was in a rare mood, tonight.
“One notes,” Tatiseigi said, “that you are conspiring with the west coast again.”
A joke, a slightly barbed one, but he was sure it was a joke this time. “Arranging guests for yet another dinner, nandi. Dare one hope you will actually consider my invitation? I am quite serious. I would be very honored. And getting together with Dur–I had you in mind in inviting them–if your first trial of my hospitality with the dowager persuades you.”
“Two opportunities to savor Bindanda’s dishes,” Tatiseigi said, and dropped his voice to a confidential tone. “I shall be hosting a festivity of my own soon, be it known, to which you are reciprocally invited. One assumes you will be free on the twenty‑third. Perhaps we shall include Dur. He is bordering Ajuri’s association, a provisional member. One considers you may have that fact in mind.”
The gesture amazed him. “One is very highly honored by your consideration, nandi. Might one ask what occasion the twenty‑third marks?”
“One might indeed. You have inspired me, paidhi. I have had a grand notion. I shall be bringing certain of my own collection in by rail.” Porcelains, the old man meant. “You need to talk to the subcommittee on imports, in the dowager’s cause, and you will have my support in the effort. She has explained her plans to me, and this new Marid trade initiative is a very bold move on her part. A very bold move, paidhi. And I shall support it. My exhibit will put porcelains in public view which have not been seen outside Atageini territory in two hundred years. It will mark the connection of this profound art with the southern Marid trade. I have no few pieces of that origin.”
God. Amazing. The old man was a shrewd campaigner, and he was a passionate collector of an item the south had produced from ancient times. The paidhi‑aiji had, trying for something relatively non‑controversial, proposed the south’s famous porcelains as an opening trade item in the new agreement with the Marid. And in vague hope of at least appeasing Tatiseigi, he had gifted the old man with, as he increasingly suspected, a very special piece. “One would be profoundly grateful for your support, nandi.”
“I have also told the aiji my views. We should follow up on our advantage in the south. We also shall open trade talks. We shall bolster the dowager’s agreement with this young lord–Machigi– and we must assure he reciprocates in his acceptance of all guilds from outside his province.” Aha , Bren thought, pricking up his ears a bit–the old man lived for agendas, and nothing regarding the guilds and their ancient prerogatives was entirely disconnected from the conservative platform. “That was certainly a part of your discussion with the aiji.”