Protector

“Nandi.” They all said it, and nodded in just the right degree. “Interesting, nand’ paidhi,” Gene said, very properly. “We went down and looked . . .” He ended with something quite unintelligible. Artur choked and looked away, trying Cajeiri could tell, not to laugh, which would be rude. But Irene clarified for Gene: “Looked out from the door, nandi.”

“Security approved,” Cajeiri provided quickly.

“One indeed heard so, young gentleman,” Bren said.

By the tapping sound echoing in the high hall outside it was clear now Great-grandmother was coming, and Great-uncle, and the bodyguards took their places, standing by, as mani’s and Great-uncle’s bodyguards arrived, and went to their places at opposite ends of the table. They all stood up as mani and Great-uncle came in, and servants positioned themselves to help with the seating.

“Well,” mani said at the sight of them. “Such a splendidly turned out company.”

“Nandiin,” Gene and Artur mumbled. “Nand’ dowager, nandi,” Irene said, the proper form, very faintly, at the same time. They all bowed, they all sat, and to Cajeiri’s relief mani and Great-uncle seemed extraordinarily pleased, though they went on to talk to nand’ Bren and nand’ Jase while the servants poured wine and water. Then they talked about the shipment of part of Great-uncle’s collection to the museum in the Bujavid.

The first course arrived. And adult talk went on, talk about the neighbors, while Cajeiri said nothing at all, not wanting to draw his guests into thatdiscussion. His guests were all quiet, very quiet.

The second course, and Great-uncle asked if the guests had noticed the storm rattling about outside.

“Yes, nandi,” came a chorus of whispered answers, everybody sitting upright, eating some of everything they were offered, though once or twice with a shudder. They were being exemplary, Cajeiri thought. Hecould not eat the pâté.

The third and fourth and fifth courses came, with occasionally a question to the guests, and a little adult talk. They all kept to Yes, soup, please and not a word in excess, except that they were delighted by the fruit and cake dessert, and ate all of it.

Then Great-uncle put aside his fork and said that they might attend the brandy hour.

Cajeiri had rather planned on an escape. But he bowed and said, carefully, as everyone was getting up, “You are greatly honored, nadiin. We are offered tea with mani and Great-uncle.”

They were brave. There was not a sigh, not a frown in the lot. They just got up and went to the sitting room.

And just inside the door, before they had a chance to sit down, Great-uncle stopped, and signaled his head of security, who handed him a folded paper. “Nephew,” Great-uncle said, and handed it to him. “One delights, on the approaching felicitous occasion, to present you with a gift, from your great-grandmother and myself.”

Cajeiri looked at the paper, and found a name: Jeichido, daughter of the second Babsidi and Saidaro.

He knew Babsidi. Babsidi was mani’s mecheita, leader of mani’s herd.

“The dam was mine,” Great-uncle said. “She is not a leader in my herd—you are, after all, a young rider—but she will not shame you. She is yours.”

“Great-uncle!” he exclaimed.

“An earnest, Great-grandson,” Great-grandmother said, “of the stable you will one day have, and a son of the first Babsidi will be yours when you have the strength and the seat.”

“Shall we ride, then? Is she here?”

“We shall ride,” mani said firmly. “We have the grounds under our control, we expect this storm to pass and leave us clear skies, and it has been far too long, fartoo long. If your guests will wish to ride, your great-uncle has several fat and retired mecheiti, who will go very gently.”

“Yes!” he said, and bowed deeply, to mani and to Great-uncle.

“You must remember that you have guests, and not run. We shall not be other than sedate, Great-grandson.”

“No, mani. We shall not. Thank you!” He was happy, happy beyond all his expectations. Nand’ Bren and nand’ Jase looked uneasy. But mani said it was safe, and Cenedi, right next to mani, looked perfectly content. “I shall tell my guests. Thank you!”

He took the precious paper, which, once he got back to the Bujavid, was going to go into that little box, not in his office, but in his bedroom, where he kept his most precious things . . . not that anyone would ever dispute mani’s and Great-uncle’s gift—but that was a box full of things that made him feel good, whenever he was disheartened. He showed the paper now to his guests, and opened it, with the date of Jeichido’s birth—she was ten—and the names of all her ancestors.

“Mani and Great-uncle have given me a mecheita of my own, nadiin-ji. And we shall ride tomorrow. On mecheiti. We shall go on mecheiti.”

“We,” Artur said. “On mecheiti.”

“Mani promises we shall not run. We shall be very safe. They will not go fast.”

“How do you tell them that?” Artur asked, in ship-speak this time. “They’re taller than the bus!”