Please do not alarm your guests.

And nand’ Bren and Jase-aiji had gone over to talk to the Kadagidi, after what had happened last night. That was about the most dangerous thing he could think of.

“What happenedlast night, nadi? We know about the intruders. We understand you caught them. Were they Kadagidi?”

“Dojisigi, nandi, but they had come here with the help of the Kadagidi.”

“Assassins’ Guild?” He was already sure of it. “After Great-grandmother?”

“Their target was your great-uncle, young gentleman. They claim to have had no idea your great-uncle would arrive with guests. They have apologized and stated they wish to change sides. So do not trouble yourself about that business, young gentleman: they are under this roof, but under watch. Be sure they are under watch. One understands you were able to recover the parid’ja last night.”

“Yes, nadi. He came back to the window when all that happened. But—”

“Kindly be very careful to observe house security today. We are strong enough to repel any problem—granted our young guests stay inside and with you. For your Great-grandmother’s sake—please be sure of their whereabouts at all times today.”

Casimi and his partners were such sticks.

“Yes, nadi,” Cajeiri said with a polite nod.

“Hear me, young gentleman: should you lose track of anyone, do not try to find the missing persons. Notify us and let us deal with the matter. We had two Marid Assassins living in the house garage when we arrived, and while we do not believe there are any other surprises in the house—consider any untoward occurrence a matter for us to know, immediately. Please assure me you understand this.”

In the garage.They had imagined intruders living in the basement . . . where Great-uncle was proposing to send them today, to tour the collections.

Casimi was a stick, and Casimi probably had never forgiven him for the tricks he had played on him, getting away right past Casimi’s nose: Casimi probably thought he was a thorough brat, too; maybe even that he could be a fool.

Which was unfair. He had been monthsyounger.

“Please do not share much of this with your guests, young gentleman. They should have a happy visit. And touring the collections will put you in a very safe part of the house today.”

“One thought we were worried about Assassins in the basement, nadi.”

“The basement has been searched very thoroughly, young gentleman. So has every room and closet in the house.”

What about the garage? he wanted to ask pointedly—but it being Casimi, who already had a bad opinion of him, he decided just to do as he was told.

“The formal dining room,” he said. “Thank you, nadi, nadiin.”

So there was nothing for it but to do as Casimi told them to do. He gave a second little bow, said, “Please tell my great-grandmother and uncle that we are very glad they are safe, nadi,” and to his guests:

“Breakfast is in the big room. We can say more there.”

•   •   •

Not that long a drive—and they were still in no great hurry about it—it was a leisurely cruise down the road. The sun was up, now, gilding the tops of dry weeds and the branches of leafing scrub. On any ordinary day, at this hour, he’d be having toast and tea and going over his mail. Right now his heart kept its own time, dreading the encounter and wishing they’d get there faster.

The bus nosed gently downward, the slope of the other side of the hill, and ran at just a little greater speed, breaking down weeds and small brush.

“Polano says there’s a structure on a hill, on the horizon,” Jase said quietly. Jase’s bodyguards had an unobstructed view out the windshield. They didn’t.

“That would be,” Bren said, “the Kadagidi manor house. Asien’dalun.”

He wished he could see the place. He urgently wished he could see what was going on, or whether there was any sign of trouble. But not seeing ahead of them was part of their protection—and he wasn’t about to get up and take a look.

Once they reached the estate, Guild protocols shouldswing into operation, but there was no guarantee they wouldn’t be met by mortar fire.

Lord Aseida, at this hour, would be having breakfast, or answering his mail, and the lord might continue at that, while his security asked, officially, using Guild short-range communications, who was arriving. When they did arrive, the house would open the door and the major d’ would come out, with his assistant, wanting to know officially and formally, for the civilian staff, who was arriving . . . this was a matter of form, the form having been devised long before radio.

The major d’ would ask, they would answer, restating their business.

Considering the circumstances, they would likely be asked to leave—a formal request.

They weren’t going to. That message would be conveyed to Lord Aseida, who would, at that point, have two choices: send his major d’ out to talk to the offended neighbors, in which case things would proceed eventually to a civilized talk between neighbors—or—Lord Aseida would send out his bodyguard to talk to the neighbors’ bodyguards.

The temperature would go up at that point.

But they had no contact yet. In point of fact, he expected none. And the bus would keep rolling as they skipped steps in the protocols . . . and as Nawari and his team did their best not to trip any alarms or traps, from the hole in the hedge to the side door of the house itself—necessarily a careful business; and if they did have to stop for a problem—that complicated things, considerably.

Haikuti, ifhe was on the premises, and if he was admitting to beingon the premises, would warn the bus to stop and to go back—while he’d be positioning defenses. Or possibly he’d let the bus come in, and position offenses. Whether or not the Kadagidi had already picked up movement to its northwest would dictate how and when the local bodyguard would react. A protest against an overland intrusion would certainly be in order—plus a threat to call Guild Headquarters and get the matter on official record, which the Kadagidi could make—and they didn’t dare.

“At this point,” Bren said to Jase, “it becomes a complicated dance. They’ll protest; we’ll say it’s a social visit. They may notice our people coming up overland. Then we see whether Lord Aseida comes out to talk. He shoulddemand to talk to me—which is his job—but we don’t think it likely he’s actually speaking for himself, or that he has any power at all over his guard.”

“Haikuti.”

“Exactly. Aseida’s either so smart he’s run everything all along, even through Murini’s administration—or he’s nothing. By all I know of Haikuti, he’d have no man’chi. Not to a living soul.”

“Aiji-like, in other words.”

“A member of the Assassins’ Guild can’t be a lord of any kind—legally. You can be in the Physicians’ Guild and happen to be lord of a province and serve in the legislature—there is actually one such. But the compact that organized the aishidi’tat drew a very careful line to keep the one guild that enforces the law entirely out of the job of making it.”

“Has it worked?”

“Yes. Until now. But we suspect Haikuti fairly well took power under Murini’s administration—and Shishoji had to move him there. How far under Shishoji’s control he is now—is a question. If anything should happen to me, I should say, tell the captains to protect Tabini, the dowager, Cajeiri, and Lord Tatiseigi. Four people. Get them up to the station if there’s no other choice. Theyhave the people’s mandate. But one bullet can send all plans to hell.”

“God, Bren. I sincerely take what you’re saying. But just keep your head down, will you?”

“I intend to. But a little risk, unfortunately, goes with the job.”

•   •   •

“So what’s going on?” Gene asked in ship-speak, once the servants were out of the dining room. “Where’s Lord Bren? What happened last night?”