“One would wish to speak, yes, aiji-ma,” Geigi said, still seated. “And one can only regret the mismanagement of my nephew in his care of Kajiminda, and one must say—my own acceptance of his lies as the truth. He has been dismissed from his honor and remains under close guard. He will not return to Kajiminda under any circumstance and only remains in this district because he may still hold useful information. Tell me, neighbors, nand’ Aieso, is there any news of my staff? Are they safe? One understands this may be a veiled matter, but one earnestly wishes to hear good news. One would instantly offer them their jobs back, if they could be persuaded to return. Certainly, for those who may have retired during my absence, under a reprehensible administration of the estate, one foresees issues of recompense and pensionc all things I would wish to see to.”
“Regrettably,” Aieso said, “certain ones have died violently, Maschi lord. Others have gone to Separti Township. Some few are in Najida village and some will reside in your own village, when you go there. Certain ones, indeed, have grown old in your service and have not been fairly dealt with by your nephew.”
“Tell me these cases and ask them to come to me for redress, nandi, one earnestly asks this.”
A nod from the lady, a lengthy and meditative nod. “You have a good reputation, Maschi lord. Your clan has not, at the moment, and your sister and your nephew have not. Your surviving staff is waiting for word, waiting for the Ragi to clear out of Kajiminda. When you go to your own house, you will have staff and you will have protection enough in the fields round about. Dare you rely on it?”
“One is greatly relieved to hear so,” Geigi said. “And one has no hesitation in relying on it. These four Guild will still attend me. These men—” He indicated the Guildsmen in the corner. “These men are attached to me, of long standing. Never be concerned about their man’chi. It is to me.”
A long, slow intake of breath on the Grandmother’s side— a difficult issue, and one would suspect the Edi would like to detach Geigi from any Guild presence at all, but Geigi’s firm statement indicated this would not happen.
“The matter of an Edi house,” Geigi said further, “I strongly support. One assumes the Grandmother of Najida would be in charge of such an establishment—and should you, nandi, at any time wish to be my guest in Kajiminda until this is a reality, you are welcome. Kajiminda estate will welcome you as resident. Kajiminda will remain Maschi, so long as the treaty stands, but will cede all the peninsula south of the brook, all those lands and the hunting and fishing in them—it does this unconditionally, looking forward to the construction of an Edi estate.”
It was an astonishingly generous offer. It stripped Kajiminda of all income except a little hunting and a little fishing, and, most importantly, put Kajiminda village itself under Edi control. There was a quiet buzz of interest in the room.
And the paidhi asked himself—was it legal? CouldGeigi do that, without the authority of his clan lord? Never mind he was the holder of Kajiminda—did he have the authority to sign part of it away?
Muted tap, from Ilisidi’s cane.
“We also support Lord Geigi’s offer.”
More comment in the room, people perhaps asking themselves the same question. And two more taps of the cane.
“Cenedi,” Ilisidi said sharply, and Cenedi walked from behind her chair to the midst of the gathering.
“A word from the Guild that protects the aiji-dowager,” Cenedi said, “and from others of the Assassins’ Guild involved here at Najida, regarding our intent and purpose. We will bring armed force where necessary to protect the lords of the aishidi’tat. We will notmove against forces that may be defending Edi territories. We count such forces as allied to the lord of Kajiminda according to a treaty approved by the aishidi’tat. Our Guild supports Lord Geigi’s decision to rely on local force, and will cooperate.”
Technical, but that was major, even speaking only for Guild presently in the area. The Assassins’ Guild had historically taken a very dim view of militias and irregularsc and Ilsidi’s chief of security promised cooperation with the Edi.
“Nadiin,” Cenedi said then, and four more Guild walked to mid-room: Geigi’s, from the station. “Nand’ Geigi’s bodyguard.”
A little bow from Haiji, the senior of that association. “We are here withour lord. We will work with Edi staff and with Guild here at Najida. Cooperation with the people of the region is our lord’s standing order.”
With which, with quiet precision, the five Guildsmen separated and went back to their places, leaving a little buzz of talk behind them.
“We invite the Edi to choose a building site,” Geigi said. “Anything is negotiable. We are at a point of felicitous change. Baji-naji, there will be adjustments and perfection of our understandings, but let us establish that there will be an Edi seat in this district, whether or not the lordship is declared this year or the next. You will begin to make it inevitable, and havinga place to which communications may come and from which statements are understood to be official—the aishidi’tat understands such things as important. To what degree you use this place for your purposes, or in what way you use it, or how you sanctify it—that will be Edibusiness.”
There had been a lukewarm response up to that last sentence. But Geigi, whose whole business on the station was maintaining a smooth interface between atevi and humans, and making things work, had just delivered something that did matter, deeply, with that last how you sanctify it. Old Aeiso rocked to and fro and finally slapped her stout hands together, twice and a third time.
Feet stamped. Faces remained impassive, but the racket had to be heard throughout the house; and it went on until Aieso got up and wrapped her shawls about her.
“Will it be agreed?” she asked, and at a low mutter from her people, she nodded, folded her arms tightly and looked at Geigi and at Ilisidi, and straight at Bren. “Kajiminda will be under our protection, the same as Najida, and our hunters range as far as Separti Township and report to us. Guild are welcome under the direction of our allies Lord Geigi and Lord Bren and the Grandmother of the Ragi.”
That was a damned major concession, and rated an inclination of lordly heads.
“Najida hopes to be a good neighbor, nandi,” Bren said.
“So with Kajiminda,” Geigi said.
“The Grandmother of Najida knows our disposition,” Ilisidi said, and Aieso nodded, rocking her whole body.
“So. We will walk,” Aieso said, “we shall go walking seaward of the brook on Kajiminda, Maschi lord, and see if there is a spot the foremothers favor.”
“Indeed,” Geigi said. Bren only remotely construed what Aieso intended, but one recalled the monuments of the Edi on the island of Mospheira, the monoliths incised with primitive, slit-eyed, slit-mouthed faces and the hint of folded arms: the Grandmother Stones, left behind—one could only imagine the trauma. Such stones stood on an isle to the north, in Gan territory. Ragi atevi, inveterate tourists, who would undergo amazing hardship to view something historic or scenic, were not welcome there, and, in turn, pretended no such stones existed. They were noton the official maps.
One thought of those stones, in territory where no outsider was welcome.
One gathered the old woman would, indeed, go hiking about the peninsula, likely with a contingent of her people—testing Geigi, among other things. Maybe establishing lookouts and arrangements of their own, for future defense.
It would be a far walk for the old woman. And a hard one. By the placement of such statues, the Edi favored difficult places.
“Najida would lend the bus for transport,” Bren said, “should you wish, nandi.”