Besides the development of eastcoast harbors, which is the dowager’s particular gain. The Marid can gain the advantages that, in my own opinion, it should have enjoyed long since—

advantages that would have prevented much of the past bitterness and made the lives of its people the better for it. Your predecessors and Tabini-aiji have had their differences, which were set in motion by unfortunate decisions two hundred years ago. One respectfully suggests the disputes of two hundred years ago are no longer profitable to either side. That they are, in fact, even inimical to both sides’ best interests— and even if they are embedded in popular sentiment, popular sentiment is very rapidly affected by profit and prosperity.”

“But you do not speak for Tabini in offering this.”

“For the aiji-dowager. Who does not offeryou anything in the West. Only in the East.” A deep breath. A gathering of panicked, skittering thoughts. “I assure you, nandi, I have asked myself, from the moment I received the dowager’s orders—why now? And I have reached two conclusions: first, she saw a moment of opportunity; and second, she is greatly vexed by certain decisions involving the formation of the aishidi’tat that shedid not get the chance to overturn. She had wielded the power on her son’s death. You may recall she came very close to beingaiji in Shejidan. Ragi interests stepped in to hand the office to her Ragi grandson.”

Machigi’s face changed somewhat in the course of that. It was not a communicative face, but one could surmise that Machigi, being quite young, had notbeen that in touch with history.

The Ragi dominance over the aishidi’tat, however, was right at the core of resentments in Machigi’s local universe.

Ilisidi had been double-crossed by Ragi connivance? True. And it set Ilisidi and the Marid curiously on the same side of the fence in that regard. He watched Machigi weighing that bit of history, which was perhaps new to his thinking.

“An interesting perspective,” Machigi commented finally. He did not stop frowning.

And meanwhile the paidhi-aiji had had the most uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach regarding what he had just said—that it could be exactlythe aiji-dowager’s game, and not only in the Marid.

Power. Ilisidi had come within an ace of being aiji twicein her life, once after the death of her husband, Tabini’s grandfather, and again at the death of her son, Tabini’s father. She had come so close, in fact, that suspicion had attached to her in those two deaths—not to mention to Tabini, in the latter instance. Atevi suspected foul play by default, in any change in parties in power—

But in that case, suspicion had perhaps been justified. And maybe she was getting back to old business. Kingmaking, in this case, spotting a likely candidate and making a move to bring him under her influence.

Machigi was capable of utter ruthlessness. Give him more power, and the difficulty was going to be in keeping Machigi in his bottle. In the same way Ilisidi had always been dangerousc so was this young man.

But Ilisidi had been around a long, long time. And Machigi wasyoung. The potential in that relationship was frightening. And Machigi had better count his change in the transaction.

The silence went on a few more heartbeats. Then Machigi shifted in his chair, folded his hands across his middle, and gave a very guarded smile.

“You come up with all this structure of air and wishes, all because the dowager concludes some of my neighbors in the Marid would like to see me dead.”

“If you were dead, nandi, it would even disadvantage your neighbors, though they may not see it that way now. The Marid needs a strong, single leader or it falls apart in internal conflict. But it is quite clear to me, and I think to the dowager, and perhaps to her grandson, that chaos in this region at this time would in no wise benefit them.”

“So we are now favored as trusted allies?”

“If there were no Marid, nandi, there would be worse problems for the aishidi’tat. Humans have a saying: Nature abhors a vacuum. Peace first. Then profit. With freedom of the seas—

and space—there willbe profit.”

Machigi lifted a hand in a throwaway gesture. “Of course. And my own relations with the western coast? Lord Geigi in particular will not be my ally.”

Thatwas fairly direct.

“His sister’s death is the most grievous matter. Are we unjust to suspect it?”

“Not unjust.”

“May one be even more blunt, nandi, and ask, in fact, about the kidnapping of an Edi child and the mining of the Kajiminda road—whether, despite your not having been responsible, you were knowledgable?”

“Would it actually matter to the aiji-dowager, paidhi-aiji?”

“Frankly, no, nandi. If we achieve peace, that question becomes irrelevant—unless the answer is no.”

Machigi’s eyes had flickered through the convolutions of that statement—until the last. Then the grim smile came back.

“The answer isno,” Machigi said. “We were surprised at the news. We are attempting to discover who did plan it, and Tabini-aiji will not have to trouble himself to deal with it.”

One yes, one no. The odds Machigi was dealing in the truth—rose.

“May one then relay to the dowager that she was entirely right?”

“Let her worry,” Machigi said. “When you next speak to her, you officially speak under our man’chi. Is that not your duty?”

Speak under our man’chi. Hell! Speak as Machigi’s representative? He’d promised it—but that wasn’t entirely what Machigi meant.

The shift of man’chi Machigi invoked was the old way. There’d been an institution among atevi a long time ago, before the aishidi’tatc a way of settling things, a specialized negotiator. The white ribbon had gotten to mean the paidhi-aiji, the human interpreter’s unique badge of office, over the last couple of centuries. And he’d represented both sides of the human-atevidividec until it just wasn’t that divided, nowadays.

But he did wear the white ribbon. He’d been sent into the house of an enemy—and Machigi, out of a district that hadn’t, over all, ever adopted Ragi ways, any more than Ilisidi’s East had ever done, had just called him on it.

He’d probably, he thought, turned a shade of white.

“One is honored by your suggestion,” he said, trying to appear unruffled, and told himself it was actually encouraging that Machigi was willing to consider him in the mediator’s rolec a role in which he had some protection—as long as Machigi was willing to play by the ancient book, and so long as the negotiations didn’t collapse.

Mortality among ancient negotiators had been tolerably high as one party or other decided to terminate the negotiations— and terminate the negotiator, who now knew too much—all in one stroke. Ancient rulers had used to saddle spare relatives and very old courtiers with that duty.

And of alllords he could ever represent, Machigi of the Tai-sigin Marid was not at the top of his preferences.

“It is not a forgotten custom in the Marid.”

“So—yes. If you have that confidence in me, nandi, send me to Najida, and I shall state your positions to the dowager and come back again with precise offers.”

Machigi pursed his lips slightly. “Not yet. Not yet, nand’ paidhi. Your continued presence is, one trusts, no great inconvenience to anyone at this moment.”

Well, he was still stuck. But they were still being polite. He assumed a pleasant expression and inclined his head in calm acceptance. “I am willing,” he said, and decided to go for all else he could get. “And in no hurry. Though continued phone contact with Najida would be a decided convenience. Most particularly, I would wish to send the bus back to Targai. It is very cramped quarters for them and cannot be pleasant.”

“We have offered local accommodation for those aboard.”