Defiance by C. J. Cherryh

Author:C. J. Cherryh [C. J. Cherryh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: no data
Publisher: Astra Publishing House
Published: 2023-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

They sent the truck back for Reijiri before heading into the house. The old lord was afire to see Ilisidi, no question, but two necessities intervened once inside—first a visit to the accommodation, and then an attempt at restoring his appearance. Bren availed himself of the same while Narani assisted Lord Tatiseigi, re-braiding his queue and straightening his collar. Bren’s own body informed him he had not run that distance that fast in over a decade. His throat threatened to be sore. He had shouted that loud. His hands still shook—he tested that steadiness determinedly, attempted to slow his heartbeat, as Tatiseigi declared himself ready and headed out the door, understandably bent on seeing Ilisidi immediately.

That had been clear, and there was no arguing with him.

Leaving Narani and the others, Bren followed Tatiseigi down the stairs. Banichi and Jago waited for them in the hall, and escorted them to a sitting room adjacent to the great hall, where Tano and Algini joined them, back from the plane, where two of Ilisidi’s guard had replaced them.

They had secured the plane firmly with ties driven into the ground, while Reijiri, they said, was busy giving the older Edi children, well supervised, a chance to sit a moment in the plane. But he would be in in time for dinner.

Beyond that, everything was in Edi hands, the door-keeping, the watch in the halls, the food they were to eat. Which circumstance made his aishid uneasy, no question; but it was an allied house, and the staff, while not his staff, moved about with efficiency, as if guests were quite an ordinary thing and twenty-odd people for an unplanned dinner did not daunt them.

Two young Edi, in brown leather, hair in multiple braids, waited by a table with a tea service—blue porcelain, on white linen. Betan was not there, but everything in the reception and the surrounds was immaculate. The dowager, not a hair out of place, sat with her sole female servant poised beside her and with Cenedi and Nawari standing behind—the picture of Ragi authority. But her first glance at Tatiseigi as he entered, with Tano at his elbow, shattered the appearance of serenity.

“Tati-ji.” It was a tone of alarm.

“Aiji-ma,” the old man said, with a shaky bow.

“Sit. Sit down!” She invited that with a gesture. “A chair, a chair, nadiin. Assist!”

The two Edi moved hesitantly, likely uncertain how to properly rearrange the seating. Nawari seized the nearest chair from the orderly arrangement and planted it in front of Ilisidi, and Ilisidi’s servant gently adjusted its proper angle. Tatiseigi sat down, stiffly proper, with Tano at the ready beside him.

Ilisidi asked, more calmly, then, “Tea? Or would you rather brandy, nandi?”

“Brandy,” Tatiseigi said instantly. “My throat. The wind.”

Brandy was procured from the side table, offered in a delicate glass, and Tatiseigi took a very small sip, accompanied by a grimace of honest pain.

“The news,” Ilisidi said. “The news, Tati-ji. What brought on this desperate venture?”

“The news?” Tatiseigi’s voice cracked. “Woman, the news

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