Read Online Betrayer: Foreigner #12 by C. J. Cherryh - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. J. Cherryh
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safe passage, so long as they do not get off the bus inside Taisigi land. You will have free access to phones at any hour. And you may have any material comfort and convenience you may wish. Cease to concern yourself about poisons. If we quarrel, you will know it well before suppertime. My cook has been strongly cautioned.”
“One is gratified to know so, nandi. And may one ask one additional favor? Might I send my brother’s wife and the young Guildswoman back to Najida on the same bus?”
A wave of Machigi’s hand. “Do as you please in that regard.”
“One is personally grateful, nandi,” he said, and he meant it. “And maps. I shall need access to continental maps. I need place names.”
“So. Go, give those orders, see the lady and her bodyguard off, and do as you please today. I wish my drive unobstructed and my land free of the aiji’s men. Request your maps of staff, make your notes. And then we shall talk again, nand’ paidi.”
That, and the gesture, added up to dismissal. Now he had to get up. He tensed muscles and made the try. Twice. The second time he made it.
And Banichi and Jago, across the room, had both broken impassivity but stopped themselves from any untoward move.
“You should allow my physician to attend that.”
“Bruises. Only bruises, nandi. Thank you, but my aishid’s attendance suffices.”
“As you choose,” Machigi said with a wave of his hand.
“Send and dispose, use the phones, ask staff for any comfort or service. Be at ease in my hospitality, nandi.”
“Nandi,” he responded, with a parting bow, and walked toward the door. Banichi and Jago joined him, and he didn’t look back.
3
I t was silence all the way back to the suite—Banichi and Jago were observing strictest formality, and they went escorted by two of Machigi’s bodyguard, despite Machigi’s assurances of freedom.
They reached the rooms, closed the door behind them, and Bren let go a carefully held breath, as much breath as he had with the bandages and the heavy vest.
Barb was on her feet to meet him. So was everybody else. But nobody spoke.
“Is there any objection,” Bren asked Banichi and Jago then, “to taking advantage of the permissions granted?”
A slight hesitation. “No,” Banichi said. “There is no objection.”
Jago had reservations, perhaps—she had that look—but none tat she advanced, considering everything they said was under surveillance. She nodded agreement once, emphatically.
His aishid, the four of them, would be the ones to die along with him—if he was wrong in his approach, or if the negotiations blew up in some reversal of intention. He apparently had the chance to get everybody else out of the Marid . . . assuming there was no deception involved.
There could well be. He couldn’t know if he was dooming everybody on that bus.
But if that was the case, he and his bodyguard were fairly well doomed, too, in the long run.
They were given a chance to communicate with Najida—knowing everything they said would be recorded.
But Machigi had encouraged the notion that the dowager was not that wrong in her assumptions. He had signaled willingness to consider the dowager’s offer—at least in theory. One could not take it for an absolute. It was, however, better than the alternative.
“Barb,” he said, “whatever you’ve got to pack, pack.”
“We’re leaving?” Barb exclaimed.
“You’re leaving. I have work to do. Veijico.” He changed to Ragi. “You will go with Barb-daja down to the bus and go back to Targai, then on to Najida.”
“Yes,” Veijico said, just that.
“Bren,” Barb protested, “are you going to be all right here?”
“I think so,” he said. “I’m not kidding, Barb. Right now, I want you to get together whatever you came with and go, this minute. Veijico, too. We’ve got a chance to get you out. Toby needs you. I promised I’d get you back.”
Barb spread her hands. “This is what I’ve got to pack,” she said
“One is gratified to know so, nandi. And may one ask one additional favor? Might I send my brother’s wife and the young Guildswoman back to Najida on the same bus?”
A wave of Machigi’s hand. “Do as you please in that regard.”
“One is personally grateful, nandi,” he said, and he meant it. “And maps. I shall need access to continental maps. I need place names.”
“So. Go, give those orders, see the lady and her bodyguard off, and do as you please today. I wish my drive unobstructed and my land free of the aiji’s men. Request your maps of staff, make your notes. And then we shall talk again, nand’ paidi.”
That, and the gesture, added up to dismissal. Now he had to get up. He tensed muscles and made the try. Twice. The second time he made it.
And Banichi and Jago, across the room, had both broken impassivity but stopped themselves from any untoward move.
“You should allow my physician to attend that.”
“Bruises. Only bruises, nandi. Thank you, but my aishid’s attendance suffices.”
“As you choose,” Machigi said with a wave of his hand.
“Send and dispose, use the phones, ask staff for any comfort or service. Be at ease in my hospitality, nandi.”
“Nandi,” he responded, with a parting bow, and walked toward the door. Banichi and Jago joined him, and he didn’t look back.
3
I t was silence all the way back to the suite—Banichi and Jago were observing strictest formality, and they went escorted by two of Machigi’s bodyguard, despite Machigi’s assurances of freedom.
They reached the rooms, closed the door behind them, and Bren let go a carefully held breath, as much breath as he had with the bandages and the heavy vest.
Barb was on her feet to meet him. So was everybody else. But nobody spoke.
“Is there any objection,” Bren asked Banichi and Jago then, “to taking advantage of the permissions granted?”
A slight hesitation. “No,” Banichi said. “There is no objection.”
Jago had reservations, perhaps—she had that look—but none tat she advanced, considering everything they said was under surveillance. She nodded agreement once, emphatically.
His aishid, the four of them, would be the ones to die along with him—if he was wrong in his approach, or if the negotiations blew up in some reversal of intention. He apparently had the chance to get everybody else out of the Marid . . . assuming there was no deception involved.
There could well be. He couldn’t know if he was dooming everybody on that bus.
But if that was the case, he and his bodyguard were fairly well doomed, too, in the long run.
They were given a chance to communicate with Najida—knowing everything they said would be recorded.
But Machigi had encouraged the notion that the dowager was not that wrong in her assumptions. He had signaled willingness to consider the dowager’s offer—at least in theory. One could not take it for an absolute. It was, however, better than the alternative.
“Barb,” he said, “whatever you’ve got to pack, pack.”
“We’re leaving?” Barb exclaimed.
“You’re leaving. I have work to do. Veijico.” He changed to Ragi. “You will go with Barb-daja down to the bus and go back to Targai, then on to Najida.”
“Yes,” Veijico said, just that.
“Bren,” Barb protested, “are you going to be all right here?”
“I think so,” he said. “I’m not kidding, Barb. Right now, I want you to get together whatever you came with and go, this minute. Veijico, too. We’ve got a chance to get you out. Toby needs you. I promised I’d get you back.”
Barb spread her hands. “This is what I’ve got to pack,” she said
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