Protector

“Nand’ Tatiseigi.” Jase gave a very courteous bow, with no hint of bemusement—though he was amazed, Bren was sure. The old man had been pleasant the entire trip. Happy in the event? Bren wondered.

The old man was going to get off the train and run into Taibeni, who were coming in, arranged by Tatiseigi’s own staff. He thought a warning might be in order. He decided on it.

“There will be, one is advised, nandi, Taibeniat the station. An assistance. They are reliable.”

A brow quirked, just a little. The iron good will stayed in place. “Our allies,” he said, as if the words tasted entirely strange. “Yes. That is good to know, nand’ paidhi.”

12

The train pulled to a stop. The door opened. The dowager’s men went out first onto the platform. The word came back, clearly, and more went out, and the baggage cars next door opened up, distant thumps.

Bren got up. Jase did, then Lord Tatiseigi, and, last, Ilisidi, as the aisle had mostly cleared and unloading was proceeding outside. The youngsters stayed where they were—courtesy of the youngest Guild present. Kaplan and Polano, who had generally tried not to block the aisle, and who had found the far side of the galley the easiest for their bulky stance, put their helmets on, as Jase slipped a communications earpiece into his ear and from that moment on was in communication with them.

“Let Cajeiri’s aishid move the kids,” Bren said. Maneuvering was too tight for Kaplan and Polano, and Cajeiri’s aishid was getting instructions. “Bren-ji,” Banichi said, his own signal, and he joined Banichi and Jago, going quickly down the aisle, in a fast sequence. Jase and his guard would be behind them. Tano and Algini were near the door. Guild moved their own baggage. Personal baggage stayed—it would get there, but not on the bus.

The open door brought a bracing waft of valley air, and daylight, a step down to the platform—baggage was piling up, and a cluster of Taibeni in brown and green were handing it out, one to another.

Bren followed Banichi’s gesture, left turn, moving with dispatch; the kids all together, with their young escorts, all headed toward the vehicles waiting beside the platform, in front of a small stand of trees: the red and black bus up from Najida, and two old and well-used green and brown trucks. Taibeni colors, those, checked and secure.

The human kids stopped abruptly—frozen in place, staring . . . as three riders on mecheiti moved past the bus. Lean, towering beasts, mecheiti were built for speed, twice a human’s height, with curved necks and shining brass war-caps on the short tusks that jutted from the lower jaw.

Stopping was prudent. The mecheiti had caught wind of something foreign, and the lead rider used his quirt to move his mecheita past, giving their group a wide berth. The other two followed, around the station office, out of sight.

Welcome to the Padi Valley, Bren thought, as he followed Banichi down the steps of the train station platform.

The kids were close behind, Cajeiri and Gene in the lead, then Artur. Irene was coming, holding to the wooden rail and looking anxiously in the direction the riders had come from. Veijico and Lucasi were right with her, wanting her to catch up, and she jogged a couple of steps, the kids bunching up again.

Off to the right was another group of riders. It was the trucks that were the rarity in Taiben. The lodge had them, for supply, for commerce; but the forest that was Taiben, the deep woods—mecheiti navigated those narrow trails and crossed the hunting ranges efficiently, with no need for costly and intrusive roads. It was a way of life far different than other clans—the Taibeni-Atageini war had lasted over two hundred years for one thing because the Taibeni had never cared much what their neighbors did, or thought. The Taibeni used the same train station as the Atageini. They had visitors come in, and they would get them and their baggage to the lodge deep in the woods, by the sole road.

For the rest—Taibeni sons and daughters took service in certain of the outside guilds, and there was indeed a lord of Taiben, but he rarely went to Shejidan unless a vote was close. They had had occasional disputes with the Atageini, usually around this train station—but nothing like an active war.

Bren reached the bus, where Taibeni riflemen stood—hesitated there to look back at Jase. “Best we board last,” he said, and waited there while the last of their party came at their necessary pace. The train, meanwhile, continued to produce baggage that young Taibeni passed off the platform and onto the truck.

There was one large, unlikely item that came out of the baggage car. With Cajeiri’s servants.

He was aware of Jegari, observing from the steps behind him. “Nandiin,” Jegari said, and vanished up onto the bus. “They have it,” Bren heard him say, inside. “It is coming, nandi.”

A shriek rose above the platform. Boji was excited.