Peacemaker (22 page)

“Is that a threat, nandi?”

“By no means, nandi. I have asked you here because I
have
consulted with others of the Conservative Caucus on the matter of the Kadagidi lord, and clearly you are part of that caucus, equally deserving of the information the others are being given, or may already have. Guild administration has changed. Information is being passed from the Assassins' Guild to various houses regarding that change and other matters. And realizing that your own bodyguard may not be tapped into that source, and that you have expressed concern about various events, I called you here to give you that information, for fairness' sake. Appearances will be preserved, I swear to you, and there will be no news of the topic of our meeting. That we two have business could involve a dozen things—the railway and the southern route, among others—perfectly logical for us to discuss.”
There
was bait on a string. “But most urgently, nandi, let me state the real business, which you need to know—to have
proved
to your satisfaction: the action at the Kadagidi estate was entirely lawful. My bodyguard was fired upon and wounded. My Guild senior is at present lying abed injured, and as you see,
I
was not exempt from attack.” He lifted a hand toward the cut on his cheek. “A minor scrape. There were, however, six holes in the bus in which I was standing.”

“That is no proof. It says nothing as to who provoked the incident.”

“I agree. It is no proof at all. But proof exists. First, a document delivered to the Guild last night contains the confession of two members from the Dojisigin Marid, who were coerced to lie in wait for Lord Tatiseigi, in an unFiled assassination which provoked our visit to the Kadagidi—since, at the time of the incident, Lord Tatiseigi had guests who were put at risk: the aiji-dowager, the aiji's son and heir, myself, one of the ship-aiji and three young folk from the space station.”

“Humans!”

“Indeed, the three innocent human
children
, nandi, guests of the aishidi'tat, in a diplomatic maneuver
important
to the aishidi'tat. In the thought that perhaps Lord Aseida, who aided the two Dojisigi to gain access to the Atageini house, might not have
known
about the foreign guests, who were indeed under deep security at the time—I and a ship-aiji, a former paidhi-aiji—undertook to go personally over to the Kadagidi estate to advise Lord Aseida privately of the situation, and to ask for an apology, in the name of the dowager, and the heir, and Lord Tatiseigi. Had Lord Aseida appeared, heard me, and simply given a verbal apology, that would have settled the matter and relieved Lord Tatiseigi's honor and his of the burden in private, in such a way that would have ended the incident. The ship-aiji and his bodyguard were there to witness the Kadagidi response in the interests of
their
aijiin. And whenever a ship-aiji's guard deploys in a situation, they make a recording to prove what happened in the exchange. That is their custom. And that recording, which I am prepared to show you, shows our action and the Kadagidi response.”

Expression touched Lord Topari's face, difficult to read: skepticism, one was certain.

“And this will be entered in evidence?”

“Nandi, it is to be filed with the Guild today. The confession of the two Assassins is already filed. And being informed that you
are
first to ask into the facts, as someone
should
ask—I have asked you here to
see
what happened, to see exactly what the Guild Council will see, should you wish to do so. I do not say you will be the last to see it—but you will be the first.”

A suspicious look.

“It will be relatively brief, nandi.”

“Television.”

“Not precisely television, nandi,” Jago said, moving forward, “but this viewer.” She pushed a button and an image flashed up on the bare wall to the left, larger than life. Algini immediately dimmed the lights, and without Lord Topari precisely consenting—the images appeared.

Bren watched Lord Topari, whose face, in the reflected light, was grim and apprehensive, not pleased by what was simply a confusion of shadow at first, then the interior of the bus. It was the moment Jase's guards had put on their helmets.

“We are beginning,” Bren said, “at the point at which the aiji's guard commenced recording.”

On the wall, the view swung about, became the driveway, the still-distant house, the porch.

“Those are ship-folk notations superimposed on the image,” Bren said, regarding the numbers at the edge.

That drew a sharp look from Topari.

“What do they say?”

“They are a signature, indicating the name of the guard, indicating the date and time. This is from a camera inside the armor of Jase-aiji's guard. Jase-aiji's bodyguards were on duty, as of this point, wearing protective armor.”

Action proceeded. The bus stopped. Banichi got off and hailed the house.

“The paidhi-aiji and the ship-aiji have come to call on Lord Aseida,”
Banichi's voice said distantly, addressing the Kadagidi guard.
“They are guests of your next-door neighbor the Atageini lord, and they have been personally inconvenienced by actions confessed to have originated from these grounds. These are matters far above the Guild, nadi, and regarding your lord's status within the aishidi'tat. Advise your lord of it.”

“That is my Guild senior,” Bren said quietly, “advising the Kadagidi of our approach and our request.”

Kaplan and Polano got off, a confusion of images of the bus door and the side of the house, then a jolt resolving to a steady image of the house door, which had opened. A knot of armed Kadagidi Guild held the porch.

“This is the point at which I exited the bus,” Bren said. “I descended behind the cover of the two ship-folk bodyguards and in the company of my own aishid, hoping to speak to Lord Aseida.”

Banichi stepped again into camera view, rifle in the crook of his arm.

“Are those alive?”
the other side called out; and now bright squares flicked here and there and showed shadow-figures within the walls, and one square flicked to the movement of a weapon, on the porch.

“These are the ship-aiji's personal bodyguard,”
Banichi answered.
“And the ship-aiji is present on the bus. Be warned. These two ship-folk understand very little Ragi. Make no move that they might misinterpret. The paidhi-aiji and the ship-aiji have come to talk to your lord, and request he come outdoors for the meeting.”

“Our lord will protest this trespass!”

“Your lord will be free to do that at his pleasure,”
Banichi retorted.
“But advise him that the paidhi-aiji is here on behalf of Tabini-aiji, speaking for his minor son and for the aiji-dowager, the ship-aiji, and his son's foreign guests, minor children, all of whom were disturbed last night by Guild Assassins who have named your estate as their route into Lord Tatiseigi's house.”

“We will relay the matter to our lord,”
the Kadagidi said.
“Wait.”

A man left, through the door to the inside of the house. And thus far there was absolutely nothing wrong with the proceedings.

Except that targeting squares now flickered on shadows inside an apparently transparent building.

Another Guild unit came out onto the porch.

“Banichi!”
that unit-senior shouted with no preface at all, swung his rifle up in a flicker of square brackets, and fired.

The scene froze. Stopped.

“I shall advance the image slowly at this point,” Jago said.

It was hard to watch. Banichi fired,
clearly
the second to fire. In a series of images, Haikuti went backward as Banichi spun and went down, bullets simultaneously hit the bus, and a flash of fire and white cloud obscured their view for a few frames.

“Grenade,” Jago said matter-of-factly. “Theirs.” A fiercer blaze of light enveloped the porch, lit by green brackets.

“Jase-aiji's guard has fired,” Jago said.

Bren had not seen that happen. He had been on the ground, trying to pull Banichi into cover. Then everybody had poured off the bus, through the smoke still lingering. What the camera showed was appalling.

Shadows ran past the camera—his bodyguard, and the dowager's men, headed for that porch, which was now a shattered, smoke-obscured ruin.

The image froze again, and went dark.

“This,” Bren said, a little shaken himself, recalling the shock that made the ground shake, the smell, the stinging haze . . . “This is the point of law, nandi, that everything was proceeding in an ordinary way, and the Kadagidi guard had not panicked at the appearance of the ship-folk guards. Everything was proceeding quietly except that that second unit was moving to the door, which none of
my
guard knew. The Guild senior of the Kadagidi unit exited the building and opened fire on me and my guard. My Guild senior took the fire and fired back. Someone on that porch threw a grenade, and at that instant Jase-aiji's guard responded with their own weapons.”

Topari sat silent.

“We also extracted, from that house, nandi, evidence of a connection between that Guild unit and the recent upheaval in the south. In the confession of the two Dojisigi Guild involved in the same incident, we have their routing from Murini's folk in the Marid
through
the Kadagidi house to attack the Atageini. We also recorded our interview with Lord Aseida, as we transported him to Lord Tatiseigi's house to give his account to the aiji-dowager. All these records are to go to the Guild, and will be available to Guild members, and ultimately to members of the legislature. The aiji wishes to find a suitable resolution of this matter, as quietly and expeditiously as possible.”

“One sees,” Topari said after a moment, and did not look happy. Then: “For whom are you speaking, nand' paidhi?”

Entirely civil question, entirely reasonable question.

“In this, I speak for the aiji, nandi. As for my own opinion, for what it matters, despite our differences, I deeply respect your leadership of the Cismontane, which has never acted except in reasonable protection of its natural interests. And, may I say, on the aiji's behalf, you never accepted Murini as aiji, either.”

“We have not that enthusiastically accepted the aijinate,” Topari muttered, blunt truth, and certainly not to the man's benefit. He
was
forthcoming with his opinions, one could say that. As to discretion—one was less sure.

“It is, alas, the old conflict,” Bren said, “the old division between north and south, the guilds and the principle of out-clan assignment.” One was very definitely conscious of the non-Guild status of Topari's two bodyguards, standing over to the right, opposite Jago and Algini. “But then, the aiji's maternal clan has only this month made peace with the Atageini after two hundred years of warfare—so the aiji does understand districts that, for some local reason, prefer local security and wish to settle their problems in their own way. Dissent from his administration will never be silenced. Likewise we have been assured that Assassins' Guild will make a fair investigation. That guild's former leadership, set aside by Murini, has returned, which is also not yet general knowledge, and you may now have at least as much confidence as you had in the Assassins' Guild prior to the coup.” He shifted his hands to his knees, signifying an end to the interview. “I thank you for coming, nandi. You have been very courteous. And I shall not urge you to regard anything but what you have seen, which is the same as what others will see within a few hours. I know you have extreme reservations about me and my office, but you have met me courteously in the past and I hoped we could talk. You and I are bound to meet again in this Marid railroad affair—and I am encouraged to hope we can talk, then, too, and do so productively.”

“When you will represent the dowager?”

“She has her views. I shall represent them at her request. But likewise if you have any message for her, I shall certainly carry it. Or to the aiji, either one.”

“Then tell the
aiji-dowager
that the Cismontane is
not
pleased with her cursed self-serving agreement. The legislature never appointed her aiji, not in two tries!”

It was worth a diplomatic smile, a diplomatic nod. “I shall
not
remind her of
that,
nandi, but if you have observations on the railroad matter, I should be honored to represent you to her and her to you. That
is
my office.”

Lengthy silence, this time. Then a gravelly: “I shall consider it.” With which, Topari gave a parting style of bow. “Nandi.”

“Nandi.” Bren gave back the same, and Topari gathered his bodyguard and left . . . with Jago both opening the way for them, and escorting them out, because otherwise Topari and his guards could not get downstairs through the lift system . . . and
that
would tip the situation toward war.

Did we win or lose? Bren wondered, hearing the outer door open and shut. Did I accomplish anything—or open up a worse problem?

The adrenaline and the strength quite ebbed out of him with that thought, and the headache was—had been for several minutes, perhaps, ever since the lights had come back on—back in force. He thought about going to his bedroom, but the adrenaline of the interview wasn't going to leave him alone. He sank down in the nearest chair, light-headed. “Tea,” he said. “The
strong
tea, nadiin-ji.”

Servants moved, quickly. Hot water and tea met over at the buffet. He could smell it. His senses felt sandpapered raw, at the same time the room seemed a little blurry.

“You are quite pale, Bren-ji,” Algini said.

“Tea will help. How did that go, Gini-ji? I have no good reading of him.”

“He is a suspicious man,” Algini said, “and verbally reckless. He went further than he expected to go. He
was
affected by what he saw—I was watching him. He saw your justification, and that, conversely, upset his resolve. He will likely try to reconstruct later
how
the railroad became involved in the discussion. But that mention has him thinking and wondering if it is a proposed trade. Now he will very likely want to test what you said and be sure he is not being led astray. He is a pessimist by reputation, never ready to assume he is being offered anything good. You have, one believes, made some headway with him.”