Intruder (44 page)

But that would leave his bodyguard in trouble—and leave Boji to them, and he no longer believed Boji was safe or that they would not kill him. He had no idea what to do. He had no advice. And he was more and more scared.

“Young gentleman!” one of the bodyguards shouted. “Obey your mother!”

“Not until my father comes!” he said. “Go away! Call my father or call my great-grandmother!”

“Young gentleman,” his mother said, “you are disrespectful!”

“I am careful,” he said, finding his voice shaking a little. “Guild has tried to kill us, when we were out on the coast. So tell them go away. I will open the door and talk to you when my father is here.”

“Your father is in an important meeting right now! You are not permitted to be by yourself in your suite, which is one of the agreements under which you have it at all! And you are
not
permitted to have that filthy animal tearing up the furniture!”

“He is safe in his cage again, honored Mother, being quiet and respectful. If someone had not frightened him and then not shut the door when I told her to, he never would have gotten out into the halls! So it is not his fault, and it is not mine! I have had Boji for a long time, and he has bothered no one!”

“Long time! We have only scarcely gotten into this apartment! Is this something you brought back from the coast? Is it the paidhi’s doing?”

“It is
not,
honored Mother! I have had him since a few days ago.
You
let me have the cage. It is a parid’ja cage. So I got a parid’ja! It is perfectly reasonable, and he is doing no harm!”

“No harm! You have destroyed your sister’s nursery!”
Sister
? No
one had told him it was a
sister
. It changed all the numbers.
Everything
. His mother cried, “The whole room will have to be repainted, and
I
cannot be exposed to the paint! All the lace of the curtains and crib is ruined, the work of hundreds of hours of someone’s labor! This was badly done, son of mine! It was underhanded, it was sneakery, at which you are uncommonly skilled, and I will no longer tolerate it! One hardly knows how your great-grandmother has tolerated such behavior, but certainly you have not learned the social graces in her care! You have not learned considerate behavior toward your mother! You have not learned proper behavior in a city apartment!”

“We are perfectly respectful, honored Mother! Your
servant
did this!”

“You listen to me! You are not in the wilds of Najida! You are not in the company of fishermen, farmers, and hunters who come tracking indoors with muddy boots! And you are not living in a stable, whatever your great-grandmother may have allowed! A son of mine will not bed down with filthy animals! That creature does not belong in the city!”

She had spoken ill of Great-grandmother, and of nand’ Bren. If he had been in the least disposed to open the door, that would have changed his mind. He had never suspected such bad opinions existed in his mother. He had no idea what to do, now, or how he was ever going to stay in this apartment and live with someone who was so rude about the people he most respected, and he had never been so angry with his parents in his entire life. He found himself pacing in a circle, he was so mad. It was not fair, and there was nothing he could do about it, because he was a child, and his father wanted him to be here. And he no longer wanted to be. Ever.

“Cajeiri?” his mother called out.

He could go off into his bedroom and ignore her, but he was afraid she would order her bodyguard to break down the door unless he went on talking to her.

And if she broke down the door, there was nothing he could do, short of
some action he feared would
make
his father take his mother’s side, because whatever his father did, there was politics in it.

His father had married his mother because of politics.

His father had gone on living with his mother because of politics.

He had brought her back with him from exile because of politics.

And—he had forgotten it in the confusion—his grandfather was coming to visit tonight because of politics. And Grandfather could show up at any moment.

There was nothing he could do.

Negotiation,
mani had said to him,
maintains a state of affairs in which no one is shooting.

It is also an excellent way to play for time.

He went back to the door. “Mother?” he said in a moderate tone.

“Open the door, son of mine.”

“You have frightened Boji, honored Mother. He was doing nothing wrong when he was frightened out the door. Everyone chased him. That scared him worse.”

“And I tell you that animals should not be in a city apartment.”

“He is perfectly clean. He is well mannered. And I am very sorry he bit anyone, but he was scared.”

“I will not have that filthy animal in this apartment!”

“And I
will!
” he shouted back, but that was not wise. He was so mad, he thought:
I am my father’s heir, and you are not.
And that was the truth. It was truth enough to stiffen his back.

But if he said that, things could go very badly very fast. He said instead, quietly, negotiating: “One respects one’s mother, but it is also needful to respect one’s father, and I have gotten both permission and instruction from him regarding Boji. If a servant had not violated orders, he would never gotten loose. Now he is back in his cage and doing no harm. Please accept my apologies, honored
Mother, for what was done, but it was done. It will not be done again.”

There was silence from outside, a very long moment of silence.

Then: “We shall have a word with your father. You were wrong to have sent to him.”

“I believe I was not, honored Mother.”

“You are being unreasonable.”

“I believe I am not unreasonable, honored Mother.”

“Your grandfather is arriving this evening. I had intended to show him the nursery. I am quite, quite upset about this, son of mine.”

“One is very, very sorry about the nursery, honored Mother. And one promises it will not happen again.”

“We shall be
sure
it will not happen again,” his mother said, and then she went away. He heard the footsteps retreating, and his bodyguard was still out there, or might be.

“Jegari?” he asked. “Antaro?”

“I am here,” Jegari said. “Antaro is here. Lucasi and Veijico are down the hall in the security corridor.”

“Is it safe for me to open the door right now?”

“Yes,” Jegari said, and with several efforts he hauled the table out of the way, unlatched the door and let Jegari and Antaro in.

They both looked worried, as well they might.

Jegari said: “That was not a good situation, nandi.”

“Not ‘nandi!’” he said, vexed. He so envied nand’ Bren right now, the way he managed his bodyguard, the good feeling there always was in that household. It had been very much lacking in his father’s house. He was sure of that now. He had thought it was that they had all been crammed up together in Great-grandmother’s apartment. But now he knew that that feeling had been there for as long as he had been home. “Especially now, nadiin-ji! I shall be called Jeri today, if you please. I wish to be called Jeri.”

“Jeri-ji,” Jegari amended himself, and after a deep breath: “Lucasi and Veijico did report to your father’s security staff, and one of them has left; the other is maintaining silence, and his only instruction is to wait. Your mother’s guard is with her. Your mother’s bodyguard has ordered us to stand down or be arrested and reported to Guild; Lucasi and Veijico have refused on grounds of security, and they recommend to us to take orders only from you until there is some other order. We are trainees. We two are safe from Guild action. But they are not.”

“And,” Antaro said, “they recommend that should there be violence offered by your mother’s bodyguard, we resist and make an extreme issue of it. They are not armed. But they will resist. Extremely.”

“One is very grateful,” he muttered. “It is brave. One is very glad you are not hurt.”

“Your mother’s guard is more than upset with us,” Antaro said. “Your honored mother is not at all in a good mood, and they feel it personally.”

“Nadiin-ji, this is serious, and one is worried. Where is my father? Do you know? Why will he not come here?”

“He is downstairs. He is in a meeting.”

“Are you
sure
of it?”

Antaro said, “Your father’s guard is talking to him. The senior aishid is with him.”

He let go a breath then. He wanted that to be so.

“And mani and nand’ Bren are all right?” he asked.

“They are all right. Lord Machigi is arriving this evening to sign the agreement with your great-grandmother, and the whole Bujavid is under special rules right now. Your father and his aishid are in a meeting with Lord Tatiseigi, going over the agreement your great-grandmother is offering to Lord Machigi.”

“He is going to be so mad at me.”

“You
told
the servant to shut the door, nandi,” Jegari said.

“I did,” he said. “I did tell her. Why was she here? Why was she here in the first place?”

“We have no idea, nandi. Jeri-ji.”

“Do you know when my grandfather is coming?”

“Kitchen is preparing a big dinner,” Antaro said. “Your mother ordered it.”

“One suspects,” Jegari said, “your esteemed grandfather may have decided to come visit because of Lord Machigi. But he is not invited to the signing. Veijico found that out. Only invited people can get in. So he is definitely supposed to be here all evening.”

“So my grandfather is a—” He was not sure he had a word for his grandfather.
Coming here to throw salt in the pot,
was what Great-grandmother would say he was doing, meaning trying to take over without consulting the other cooks in the kitchen. Or in this case, coming to visit to get right in the middle of things without an invitation.

“My grandfather is not here to help,” he said. “He always shows up when things are going on. But he is not an ally of my great-grandmother.”

“The young lord of Dur is coming in,” Antaro said. “If he is not already here. So is the new lord of the Maschi. All sorts of people who
are
allies of your great-grandmother are coming.”

“Lord Tatiseigi is a close ally of my great-grandmother. But he does not approve of the Marid. And
he
is downstairs with my father.”

“One has no idea,” Antaro said. “He is head of the conservatives.”

“Except my grandfather. My grandfather is a conservative. But one does not have him and Uncle in the same room. Do you think Grandfather coming here might be because of that meeting my father is having with Uncle?”

There was a moment’s silence. “It could be,” Antaro said. “It actually could be. Your great-uncle has an invitation. Your grandfather, nandi, does not.”

“Grandfather will not be happy at that,” he said. “And my mother—” Mother was all upset with the baby coming. Everything was
the baby. And Grandfather was supposedly all excited about the new baby, and calling Mother a lot. And ordinarily Mother had no patience with Grandfather. But now she was defending him and anxious to show him the new nursery and invite him to dinner…

And Uncle Tatiseigi was in residence again and making up to Great-grandmother, and making peace with Lord Geigi, and both of them sitting drinking brandy with Great-grandmother and nand’ Bren, and all interested in Lord Machigi coming in, and this new agreement that was supposed to stop wars with the Marid…

So Grandfather was coming for supper, and Grandfather had no invitation to the big event this evening.

He wished he could ask Great-grandmother what his grandfather was up to. Or why Mother was being nicer to him than to Uncle. It had a very upsetting feeling.

And maybe it was not all about Boji.

And now Mother was mad—and upset. The pretty yellow and white nursery was destroyed—though all he had been able to see was one curtain a little askew and an unfortunate accident on the wall, and he did not think Mother really had to repaint the whole nursery or throw out all the lace curtains and all.

But Mother was upset: that was what he had heard in her voice. She was very, very unhappy, and he was not that sure now that it was all about Boji at all.

And his mother was sounding more and more like Grandfather. That upset him. Mother was not behaving well at all lately. Not since the baby. Not since—well, Mother had not been wholly nice to him since he had gotten back from space.

And there was nobody more grownup to make grownups behave.

But—there were people. There were people who were downright scary and other grownups were scared of them for very good reasons.

He had an idea. He had a very good idea. It was scary. But in his opinion, certain
people, particularly his grandfather, deserved it.

He went back into the hall, to his desk, sat down, and laid out a sheet of formal note paper, shaking the lace of his cuff out of the way as he took pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote.

He thought honesty was probably a good thing, because his mother was going to blame him for everything.