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.”
“Nor have I,” Great‑uncle said.
“Yet,” Great‑grandmother said, “Aseida is lord. And Kadagidi is rebuilding. It is not Aseida who is so industrious. It is his bodyguard and his staff.”
“Haikuti,” Cajeiri said.
“He was never part of the coup. He was never attached to Murini. Yet–things run exactly as they did when Murini was alive. The same rules. The same policies. One might say the Kadagidi were merely doing what worked well–but we suspect that the difference in Murini’s administering Kadagidi lands and his behavior in Shejidan is this man. And you would say that he is doing no harm, governing Kadagidi from behind Aseida’s shoulder. But we have a little more information of this man’s connections now, and this is the last man your father should admit to court.”
He thought he followed that. He was not sure. But under the circumstances, only one thing really mattered: “Shadow Guild?”
“Definitely,” mani said. “Definitely.”
Cenedi, standing to the side, said: “There was a strategist behind the coup, and we do not believe that that strategist was Murini, or even one of Murini’s bodyguard. We are now watching the contacts between Kadagidi and the outside, by means that we do not think the Kadagidi have. Your grandfather’s assassination provoked an interesting flow this morning.”
“ Kadagidi did it?” That was a lot better than learning his mother had done it. But it was not good news about Uncle’s neighbors.
“Possibly.” Cenedi walked forward a step. “Nand’ paidhi.”
“Nadi?” nand’ Bren said.
“You were briefed, nandi, concerning the Ajuri officer in the Guild.”
“Yes,” nand’ Bren said, and Cajeiri took in his breath, resolved not to interrupt. One learned nothing by stopping people. But he had to know–
“Cenedi‑nadi. Who?”
“There is an old man, Ajuri, your very remote elder cousin, a high officer in the Guild,” Cenedi said, “who may have wanted your grandfather silenced–regarding the relationship of Ajuri clan to the Shadow Guild. You are not to discuss this, on your great‑grandmother’s order, young gentleman. This is what you urgently need to know–and your aishid needs to know; but none of your guests. This man, Shishoji, or Haikuti, who would not want Shishoji exposed, sent the assassins.”
“This knowledge is worth lives,” mani said. “Believe it, Great‑grandson.”
“Shishoji‑nadi has held his office,” Cenedi said, “for forty‑two years. He has worked in secret–placing his people in various houses. We believe that some of these were on your mother’s staff, young gentleman.”
His heart beat hard. He knew these people. He had passed them in the hall. He had slept with them outside his door.
“Does my father know?”
“Yes,” mani said.
He never expected to be told the whole truth–he never was–but it seemed likely he was hearing it now.
The air in the room seemed heavy. His heart was beating unbearably.
“Understand this, Great‑grandson. This man, this Ajuri, is the stone on the bottom of the stream. He is a constant, and events flow around him. You do not see what makes the turbulence, but once you study the patterns, you can begin to see that there is a certain rock that makes it flow that way. That is how we have detected him. His agents, we suspect, have deliberately kept certain quarrels going–your great‑uncle and I have discussed that matter.”
Great‑uncle cleared his throat. “We have completely revised our security.”
“The alarm,” he said. “Did you catch anyone, Great‑uncle?”
“Not yet,” mani said. “But we are looking. Quietly. Meanwhile I rely on you to stay indoors, devise clever entertainments for your guests, and think. Think about your safety, do not be in a window once it gets dark, and take care your guests do not. You are in less danger than you would be anywhere else in the world, but only if you obey instructions and do not take chances.”