Protector

“I shall inquire,” he said. But Cajeiri’s question to his own bodyguard brought the answer that, indeed, it had just been raining, but the weather was due to clear tomorrow.

“I hope they may hurry,” Cajeiri said.

“They will be down in good weather, likely morning after next, young gentleman.”

“Might we go to Najida and go on your boat, nand’ Bren?”

“Only your great-grandmother and your parents can say that, young gentleman.” He could not fault the boy for being excited and full of ideas. But negotiating with a Marid warlord was no more strain than dealing with Cajeiri—who had his hopes all up and a justified fear that everything could fall apart on some adult whim. He would not promise things not in his hands. He could not appear to promise anything, and the boy had more changes of direction than Malguri’s upland roads.

“When do you think they will actually land?” the boy asked. “At what hour?”

“All depending on the weather, young gentleman. You know these things. You took the same flight.”

“I was not entirely paying attention,” Cajeiri said, looking down, then up, sharply. “And I was upset about my birthday, nandi.”

It hadbeen that time of year, when all hell had broken loose.

“And anyway,” Cajeiri said, “we were going to land over on Mospheira, not in the aishidi’tat.”

“It is very little difference,” Bren said, “when you are moving that fast. You would only be a few minutes off.”

“Can we see them land? Can we be there to watch?”

“Ask your great-grandmother such things, young gentleman.” He had somany things he had to do, letters he had to write, arrangements to make before things started moving—but he was not about to leave the young gentleman unattended and in a state of high excitement.

He was very relieved when Jago came in to say they had been in touch with Cenedi, that they had informed the dowager as requested, and that the dowager was arriving to take charge of her grandson—and his baggage—at any moment.

“Well,” Bren began, but just then came a knock at the door, and it opened. That, he was sure, would be Ilisidi herself, or at very least, Cenedi.

Rescue.

“I am sure we will take care of Boji for you,” Bren said to his young guest. “I have ordered sufficient eggs.”

“He likes them raw, nandi.”

“One is not surprised to hear it.”

“You just give them to him. But sometimes we boil one. For a joke. He will eat it. But it confuses him.”

“We shall never have eggs left over from breakfast, then.” He rose, thinking he would have to meet Ilisidi, and offerto keep Boji.

The door opened. Jeladi ducked in, shut the door at his back and bowed. “Nandi. Lord Tatiseigiis in the foyer, nandi.”

He tried not to register utter dismay. One thing was certain: he could not sit in lordly splendor in his sitting room and ask Tatiseigi be brought in like some visiting client. He bowed to his young guest, and went to the door as Jeladi opened it.

Indeed, Lord Tatiseigi, with his full bodyguard, stood in the foyer, awaiting the courtesy of his appearance.

“Nandi,” Bren said, “you are very welcome here. Do accept the hospitality of the sitting room. The aiji-dowager or her bodyguard will be here at any moment to pick up the young gentleman. I took your arrival for hers. Would you care for tea?”

“Things are running in a very slipshod way, nandi. This spaceship is proceeding ahead of plans and we hear only by our bodyguard’s advisement that the young gentleman has been turned out and sent here—with no warning, nandi, with no notice at all. We hope that there is some planninginvolved in this!”

He was not about to explain Geigi’s meddling with the shuttle launch schedule. Tatiseigi liked all events well-planned, on firm schedules. He simply said, “Once the young gentleman knew the shuttle was coming, he was very anxious to be underway, nandi, and you and the dowager have been so very involved in the committee meeting . . .”

“Which is over,” Tatiseigi said somewhat more mildly.

“One heard it had gone well, with all gratitude to your efforts, indeed. I listened from the tea room, discreetly. I was available to get the message, and I was able to be here to meet the young gentleman. And to take custody of the young gentleman’s parid’ja, which needs to be housed, temporarily.” He was absolute sure Tatiseigi would not want thatduty.

“Uncle,” Cajeiri said from the doorway.

“My boy,” Tatiseigi said. “We trust you have not been a burden to the paidhi.”

“No, Great-uncle! Nand’ Bren has been explaining the shuttle schedule. And he says we might go to Najida!”

“I said,” Bren said quietly and quickly—a visit to Najida surely notbeing Tatiseigi’s fondest wish—“that all such questions would be the dowager’s to decide.”

“Well!” Tatiseigi said. “How would you like to go to Tirnamardi instead, young gentleman, and ride mecheiti?”

Tatiseigi’s estate? With human guests? Three—possibly four—very younghuman guests?

He thought of his conversation with Jago, in the servants’ bath.

And that with Geigi, in his office.

But Cajeiri didn’t waste a second.