c or in this case, to receive the Lord of Najida and his guests the aiji-dowager and the heir of the aishidi’tat, to which they belonged mostly in name. The doings of the aishidi’tat rarely touched the doings of the village, or rarely did so in any official way; and no member of the aiji’s household, including the paidhi-aiji, had ever darkened the door of the village hall, not in all the time it had stood.
They were here to change that.
People of the village—mostly women, young folk and children—were standing about the entry, and came to watch as they disembarked, an immediate flood of Guild in black leather uniforms, and then, with great solicitude, the dowager, who did not take kindly to being lifted down from the truck bed in the arms of her young men, and wanted to climb down, but that itself was an undignified process, and a very chancy little thin-runged ladder, so down she came, and set her feet on the ground immediately with a solid whack of her cane.
Cajeiri scrambled down on his own, steadied at the last by Jegari and Antaro, his new guards standing by in commendable deference.
And Bren climbed down and met up with Jago at the bottom, Banichi appearing almost immediately and making shift to get them all inside and under at least the cover of a roof.
So in they came, in a surrounding flood of black uniforms and with a distressing lot of firepower, but there was reason for it, and he by no means protested Guild precautions. They walked down a broad hallway, wooden-floored, and into open double doors at the end, where the village dignitaries waited somewhat informally, standing among their orderly tables.
There were bows, not as deep as country folk might ordinarily make in meeting the aiji-dowager or even the paidhi-aiji, but it was not a discourtesy, rather the situation, that they were in the place of their own authority.
“Nand’ dowager.” The speaker was an old woman, a seam-faced and weathered woman wearing her go-to-meeting best, a black shawl with years of service, but it was an excellent garment, no matter the era, beautifully embroidered with vines. A deep bow, then. “Nand’ paidhi. I am Aieso, eldest of Najida village.”
“We have come to listen, Aieso-daja. In all courtesy, I shall speak briefly. But in the main, considering the situation, we believe we should be advised before giving advice. We have come to ask.”
The old woman nodded, bowed again, all around, including to Cajeiri, then walked to the head table and rapped on the wood with her gnarled knuckles.
A silence gradually fell. People sought chairs, and two young men came offering chairs at the head table to the dowager, Cajeiri, and him.
They took those places. It was no polished historic conference table, but it had its own history, evident in the scratches and digs and occasional wounds in the rough-finished surface. The chairs likewise were age-smoothed, neither stained nor polished.
“Nand’ Bren says he and the dowager and the young gentleman have come to listen tonight,” Aieso said. “But he has a few words of his own, nadiin. Listen to him.”
A little final settling, a last couple of people in place. Guild stood about the walls, bristling with weapons. But the assembly they watched were all old men and women, the business owners and tradesmen of the town, people of local substance and excellent reputation—well, as much as went with long politics in a village.
Bren rose in place and looked over the assembly—no brilliant electrics here, just oil lamps that gave a gentle glow to the place, and not that electricity was not available in the village. It just was not here, in this place of local tradition.
“Esteemed neighbors,” he said, with a little bow, “what I have to say is brief, counting that I know less than I should. First, thank you, and the dowager and the young gentleman thank you most earnestly, for the efforts of our neighbors in rescuing the young gentleman from the coast. Had you not helped us, we might have been far slower to take the search out to sea, and the event might have had a very bad outcome. Please make known any damages incurred during the search, and I will gladly bear any expense for repairs. Thank you, personally, for your hospitality toward my brother’s lady, and most of all for your understanding. Thank you for your support during the difficulties at Lord Geigi’s estate, and the attack on my house. The aiji-dowager has spoken to Lord Geigi directly, advising him of the situation, and Lord Geigi has agreed to return very shortly and take possession of his nephew and of the estate, to attempt to set matters right.”
That created a little buzz in the room, words exchanged sotto voce and behind hands, but it seemed to be welcome news.
“Among matters of utmost concern in my own mind,” Bren said, “is the fact that when the young gentleman and I visited that house, we saw no familiar faces, none of the people we would have expected to be there. We are greatly concerned for the welfare of that staff.”
A sudden thump of Ilisidi’s cane. “The nephew neglected business in Shejidan. Evidently he had a situation he wished not to report, and the aishidi’tat has been remiss not to inquire more closely regarding this sudden change in attitude and relations. The aishidi’tat took for granted the favorable association which has long existed in this region and took an attitude of patience with this young nephew. This was a mistake. We hope it has not cost lives, nor will cost them, but we fear to the contrary. The aishidi’tat has no wish for a continuing Guild presence in this region, and forces will withdraw as soon as we are sure Southern influence does not threaten the peace of this district.”
With which, and a second thump of the cane, Ilisidi fell back into silence, leaving a ripple of whispering and disturbance in her wakec again, not hostility, but hard to read what precisely it was—except honest fishermen and craftsmen trying to read all the way to the bottom of a remark by a master of Shejidan politics. Aieso, her gnarled hands laced before her lips, sat in silence, her eyes, gold dark nearly to bronze, taking in every movement.
“Neighbors,” Bren said, with a nod to that lady, “people who have a birthright on this coast should be reassured. The Southern influence which moved into Kajiminda has been dislodged, permanently, and there will be no threat to the region from that quarter. One wishes one could claim that one’s own cleverness detected this intrusion and laid all this plan to deal with it, but, baji-naji, there has been more chance on our side and more plan on the Southern side. They thought they had caught me without allies. They were mistaken. I thank the dowager, I thank the aiji, and the brave folk of Najida that we have overturned that schemec” That drew pleased looks. “But we remain concerned for the fate of people harmed by these goings-on. If there is any help the estate can give, we would be very glad to provide it.”
A single young man stood up, a thin, shabby-looking young man in the far corner of the room; and every Guildsman around the periphery went on alert. “Nand’ paidhi.”
“Nadi?”
A bow. “My name is Teigi. I came here as the son of Paigi. This was a lie. I am Edi, from Kajiminda—a youngest, and expendable.”
His security would not be happy with this deception. But none of them were surprised by it. He simply bowed in acknowledgement.
“One rejoices to hear from Kajiminda, Teigi-nadi. Say on.”
“This is what the Edi say. Throw the Southerners out or let us do it. Let us have our lordships and our law and our land back. I am the youngest. If you arrest me, you have no one.”
“There is no question of arresting the spokesman for the Edi,” Bren said, and in the tail of his eye, saw the dowager rising to her feet, when she was, being who she was, perfectly entitled to sit to address anyone in the aishidi’tat. It was a courtesy, and it was hard for her.