Protector: Foreigner #14 (21 page)

“Indeed,” Tatiseigi said diplomatically, nodded, and looked measurably relieved.

The bus rolled on at a moderate pace on the graveled drive, and exclamations from the youngsters said they had seen something.

Bren looked ahead, between Ilisidi’s seatback and Polano’s white shoulder.

The last time he had seen Tirnamardi, there had been shell-holes in the masonry and broken gaps in the low, ornamental hedge of the front drive.

It sat on its low rise looking as serene as if there had never been an attack from the Kadagidi. The road curved. The grass had grown over the trampled lawn, and, on the other side of the bus, the house, a rectangular stone affair of many windows, showed neither patches nor scaffolding.

“I can see the house, nandiin-ji,” Bren said, “and it is beautiful again, nandi. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Well, well,” Tatiseigi said, “it has been a struggle.” He drew a deep breath, and courteously addressed himself to Jase. “Understand, ship-aiji, our neighbors attacked us with mortars, and even our allies made wreckage of our hedges. We sought out shrubs of exact girth and age, and we have nurtured them through last summer. We have brought stone from the exact quarries, and while the match is not perfect, it will age.”

“We look forward to it,” the dowager said, as the tires rolled onto the paved part of the drive, rumbling on the brickwork. On that broad curve, the bus slowly came to a halt. The doors of the great house opened, pouring out servants and Tatiseigi’s security.

The bus door opened. Kaplan and Polano had to be the first off. One hoped security was warned.

“Now you must escort us, nandi,” the dowager said, setting her cane before her, and Tatiseigi gallantly struggled to his feet and offered his hand.

Guild had sorted themselves out by the seating arrangement of their lords, and Cenedi and his group moved out, immensely relieving the congestion back there, and Tatiseigi’s aishid after them. Cajeiri got up, and his guests did, as Bren and Jase got up.

Banichi and the rest of the aishid followed right behind them. They stepped down the far last step onto the pavings of Tatiseigi’s drive, with Kaplan and Polano waiting at the left, the dowager and Tatiseigi already headed up the steps. The two trucks with the baggage were right behind them. The white dust of the gravel was still lingering in the air along the road.

The children came down next, exclaiming in amazement at everything.

“They’ve never seen a stone building,” Jase said quietly. “Or a building, for that matter. Everything’s a wonder to them. They’ll want to know everything.”

“It’s supposed to rain tonight,” Bren said. “A few showers. That should provide entertainment. So much of the world one takes for granted. We
have
to arrange that fishing trip, Jase.”

“I’m going to do my damnedest,” Jase said. “So many textures. So many details.”

They walked up into the foyer, the hall of lilies, those beautiful porcelain bas relief tiles that were the pride of the house, and there was Tatiseigi, Cajeiri, and the dowager watching three human children standing in awe of the porcelain flowers.

“They’re cold,” Artur said, touching a flower petal with the merest tip of his finger. “But not really cold.”

Then they all had to touch, very gently.

“Ceramic,” Bren said. “Bow nicely to your host and tell him you think the flowers are beautiful.”

They did exactly that, and for the old lord, clearly anxious for the welfare of his lilies, they could not have picked a better feature to compliment. He nodded benignly.

“They are very
delicious,
nandi!” Artur insisted, as if Tatiseigi had failed to hear the compliment, and Cajeiri quickly snagged his arm and Gene’s and, Irene following, got them all up the steps and into the main house ahead of the adults.

“Wow!”
echoed upstairs, as the youngsters got a look at the halls inside, the ornate scrollwork, the lily motif repeated, the grand hall with its gilt, the high windows, the paintings and vases.

Bren said, quietly, “One believes the boy’s attempted word just now was
beautiful,
nandi. The children are absolutely in awe of the house.” Indeed the old lord had just had his precedence and the dowager’s violated, in his own front hall. “One sincerely apologizes.”

“For my great-grandson,” Ilisidi finished dourly, though Bren thought the young gentleman had been admirably quick about getting Artur upstairs before he mispronounced
beautiful
again. Ilisidi made the climb to the main floor on Lord Tatiseigi’s arm, as the high hall echoed to young voices. The children were standing in the center of the hall, revolving like so many planets as they gazed all about the baroquerie and the gilt stairway and the windows.

“Lord Tatiseigi is bearing up with extraordinary patience,” Bren muttered to Jase as they walked up together, his aishid walking quietly, and Jase’s pair with servos whining at every step.

“Beautiful!”
was the word from above. Safely in ship-speak, this time.

They reached the main floor to effect a rescue.

But, unprecedented sight, the old man stood beside Ilisidi with a smile dawning on his face, watching the children so admiring his house. She smiled, pleased as well. “Well, well,” he said. “They are certainly appreciative.”

Cajeiri saw them, cast a worried look at his guests, and hurried over to give a sober, harried bow. “Mani, Great-uncle! Shall we be lodged together? May I take them upstairs?”

“As the dowager permits,” Lord Tatiseigi said, and nodded toward the handful of servants lined up by the stairs. “They will guide you. Do tell the servants, young gentleman, they should open the white suite for Jase-aiji and his bodyguard. —Ship-aiji, my staff will make suitable arrangements, and if there is any need, do ask my staff. —Nand’ paidhi. You will have the blue suite. I am confident it is ready for you.”

“Nandi,” Bren said with a little bow, and to Jase—not sure Jase would have understood, since when he spoke to his own, Tatiseigi used the regional accent: “The white suite is adjacent to the blue. We’ll have time to catch up before—”

About that time there was a sudden bang and a considerable clatter and sound of wheels on the marble floor downstairs.

Lord Tatiseigi looked alarmed.

A shriek echoed up from the foyer, ear-piercing and echoing.

The human kids froze in alarm. Ilisidi simply said, with a sigh, “The parid’ja, Tati-ji.”

Tatiseigi drew a large breath and said, “There are no antiquities in the suite assigned to the young gentleman and his guests.” He signaled and snapped his fingers for staff, who stood looking downstairs. “The young gentleman’s suite, for that.”

No breakables seemed an excellent idea, in Bren’s opinion. He had no idea how they were to get the cage upstairs but to carry it. There were no lifts in Tirnamardi, most features of which predated the steam engine.

But they were safe. They were within walls, inside a security envelope that three clans, the paidhi’s security, and ship security were not going to let be cracked. He had worried all the way. But what Cenedi had had moved in here was not just the presence of younger Guildsmen, and more of them, it was surveillance. And, he was sure, it was also armament to back it up. Nothing was going to move on the grounds without their knowing.

And count the mecheiti in that camp as a surveillance device right along with the electronics. Surveillance
and
armament: one did not want to be a stranger afoot with mecheiti on the hunt.

•   •   •

Uncle’s house was just the way Cajeiri remembered it—only without the shells going off outside—and his birthday was absolutely certain now. Uncle had been patient, mani was not unhappy, Jase-aiji was a happy surprise for nand’ Bren and for him, too, and it was what he had dreamed of, having Gene and Artur and Irene with him.

They all trooped along with the servants who guided them up the main stairs, and by the time they got up to that floor, there, making a huge racket, and silhouetted in the light of the windows at the end, came Boji’s cage, and his servants, Eisi and Lieidi, and two of Uncle’s, pushing it up the hall. Boji was bounding around, terrified by all the rattling and the strange place and the strange people, after the train ride and the truck, and he let out shrieks as they came, right to the middle suite on the floor, while he and his guests waited.

The servants nodded a polite respect, and rolled the cage right through the door, into a suite with big, wonderful, sunny windows, tall as a man, and filmy white draperies that blew in the breeze from the open windows. It was a beautiful room. Nippy from the breeze, but after all the traveling, even that felt good.

“Put him near the window, nadiin,” Cajeiri told the servants. Nand’ Bren’s servants had wired the cage door shut for the trip, and there was no way Boji could get loose. He was bouncing from one perch to another and looking very undone, panting, once the cage stopped, and staring at him with pitiful white-rimmed eyes, with his fur all messy.

“Poor Boji,” he said, putting his fingers through the grillwork, so Boji could smell them and be sure it was him. “Poor Boji. I am sorry, I am sorry. —Close the window, Eisi-ji. They have spilled all his water.” It was in a glass jar with a tube, and it had emptied with the bouncing about. He was
sure
Eisi and Lieidi had kept him watered and fed on the train. “Get him water. And an egg. Poor Boji.” Boji was crowding close to the grillwork, up against his hand. Boji put his longest finger out and clamped it on his finger. It was very sad.

“Is he all right?” Artur asked.

“Just scared.” He kept his hand where it was. Artur reached out, but Boji moved away.

“He’s a
monkey,”
Irene said. “Just like in the archive.”

“Sort of. He’s a parid’ja. They eat eggs. They climb after eggs, for people.”

“Climb
after eggs.”

“Some. Two kinds.” He could not remember the word for dig. The baggage was starting to arrive, and with it, there would be eggs. He kept soothing Boji, and Lieidi came back with the water bottle filled and put that in place. Then Eisi found the right bag and came back with an egg.

“There is one egg left, nandi. He has had five, on the trip.”

Five. They had stuffed him. He looked exhausted and mussed, but his little belly looked round. “Well, he may have one more. Arrange for eggs, Eisi-nadi. But, Eisi-nadi, Lieidi-nadi, these are my guests I have told you about. This is Irene-nadi, Artur-nadi, and Gene-nadi.”

“Hi,” Eisi said.

“Hi!” Gene said back, looking surprised.

Cajeiri grinned. “My aishid knows more words.” Antaro and Jegari were back in the bedroom, arranging things, and he thought Veijico and Lucasi had gone out a moment ago—possibly to check in with house security. That was what they were supposed to do. “They have a few words.” He nodded, so that Eisi and Lieidi could get to work. “You hold the egg, Gene.”

He handed the egg to Gene, then unwound the wire so he could open the door.

But the moment the door was open, Boji launched himself at him, chittering, and held on—which was going to ruin his collar lace. He calmly reached for the egg Gene was holding and held it up so Boji could see it.

Boji just reached out one arm and took it.

“You do not eat that and hold on to me,” he said, and moved his arm to make Boji shift toward the cage. “Go on. Go back in your cage. You can take your egg. Good Boji.”

“Does he understand?” Irene asked.

“He understands a little. He has had five eggs already. He is not that hungry. But he always wants an egg. There.” He was able to transfer Boji to a perch, with his egg, and to shut and latch the door. He brushed off his sleeves and front. “He loses fur when he is scared.”

“Look at him!” Artur said. Boji had opened his egg his way, tapping it with his longest finger until he could make a little hole, then widening that hole until he could use his tongue.

“Amazing!” Gene said.

The egg was empty, very quickly, and Boji, much relieved, began grooming himself, very energetically. His guests were fascinated, watching every move, but staying far enough away not to scare him. Soon Boji, very tired from all the excitement, fell asleep, and
they
fell to exploring the sitting room, and the bedroom. He showed them the bath and the accommodation, too, which were down the hall.

When they came back to the room Boji woke up and set up a moderate racket, rattling the cage and wanting out. Cajeiri went over to quiet him.

“Can we take him out of the cage?”

“Very excited. He climbs. Not a good idea.”

“There’s a house down there,” Gene said. He had looked out the window, moving aside the filmy curtains. “Lots of rails. Look! There’s one of the mecheiti.”

He already had an idea what
could
be there, and he immediately came and looked out. Uncle’s stables had been set on fire last year, in the fighting. And it was all rebuilt as if nothing had ever happened. That was a wonderful thing to see. “Those are Great-uncle’s stables,” he said in Ragi. And in ship-speak: “Mecheiti live there. If mani lets us, we can go there.” Back to Ragi. “Maybe they will let us ride.” And ship-speak: “Go on the mecheiti.”

There were apprehensive looks. He had told them about riding up on the ship. They had thought it would be a fine thing. Now—

“They’re awfully
big
,” Artur said.

“I can show you. Even mani and Uncle may go. We can go all around inside the hedges. If they let us.”

They were far from confident about that.

“What do you do if they don’t want to do what you want?” Artur asked.

“Quirt,” he said, and slapped his leg. “Doesn’t hurt. They just listen.”

They all looked, for some reason, at Boji.

“We try,” Gene said then, in Ragi. “We do.”

“We try,” Artur said, not quite so confidently.

“We try,” Irene said last. Irene was scared of a lot of things. She was never sure she could do things. Irene had always said her mother would not let her do this, and her mother would not let her do that. Whatever it was, her mother would not let her do it. Cajeiri remembered that, and he found he understood Irene, now, a lot more than before.