Destroyer by C. J. Cherryh Page A

The several of them made a triangle of chairs with Lord Geigi’s, as that stout lord took a more substantial seat.
    Tea was the order, then, all around, solemnly served, solemnly accepted, a few sips drunk. Ilisidi’s countenance was unreadable; Cajeiri’s was solemn, quiet—if there had been words of comfort, they had been said in private. If there was lingering disturbance, it was evident only in the absence of light in the boy’s eyes. The young chin was set. Hard.
    A full cup down. A second served.
    “We shall hear it,” Ilisidi said then, and Lord Geigi lowered his cup, cradling it in his hands, and said, solemnly,
    “The rebels said no word, offered no argument in advance of their move, and there was no provocation ever stated. Lady Cosadi of Talidi province had turned up in residence in the Bujavid—” That was the center of government, the residence of every lord at court. “Accepting guests into the Tasigi residence.”
    It was her right to bring in guests. It was always the most difficult challenge to Bujavid security. The Talidi side relations were lucky to have survived the last dust-up in the aishidi’tat. They had lived and taken their place under Tabini’s tolerance.
    “Cosadi,” Ilisidi said. “Is that the beginning of this tale?”
    “Yes,” Geigi said shortly. “Cosadi.”
    Daughter of the late Sarini of the Marid Tasigin, of Talidi province: bad blood from the beginning—involved in one conspiracy already. And Tabini had been an enlightened ruler, and had not cut their throats.
    “Mercy has its reward,” Ilisidi said darkly. “Guests, is it? Who was scrutinizing these people?”
    “That we by no means know,” Geigi said. “Nor have I heard any particular blame laid on house security in the matter, nor would expect to, given who is now in charge. But it was reputedly through Cosadi that Talidi of various ill dispositions gained access to the residencies. Certainly she now stands close to the lord of the Kadigidi, who has proclaimed himself aiji in your grandson’s place.”
    “Murini?” Quietly asked, and a thunderstroke when Geigi said:
    “The very one.”
    “Go on,” Ilisidi said, and calmly had a sip of tea.
    Murini, son of the former traitor, Direiso, who had conspired with Cosadi’s father to break the south and midlands out of the aishidi’tat . Murini, who had taken refuge with Cajeiri’s great-great-uncle in the last troubles, and under that roof had proclaimed himself unswervingly loyal to Tabini. Murini had risen, after Direiso’s death, and with Tabini’s blessing, to be head of the Kadigidi clan.
    Now Murini thought he would turn coat and rule the Association, with Cosadi’s help.
    There was a scoundrel from way back, Bren thought, one that had masqueraded as a victim of Direiso’s plots, and an ally of the ruling house.
    But, more troubling still, was the fact that Murini had sheltered with the Atageini during Direiso’s uprising, and might maintain ties there. Cajeiri, having Atageini blood in his veins, now posed a serious problem to any claim Murini might make on Atageini loyalty. So great-great-uncle Tatiseigi, if his loyalty to Tabini had wavered toward that wretch Murini, now would find his own ambitions drawing him back to Tabini’s side . . . if only in Murini’s perceptions.
    Tatiseigi’s life was therefore in danger. And so was Murini’s, from Tatiseigi, a canny and long-surviving man with resources of his own.
    So had Murini that firmly decided the ship would never return, and that Tabini’s grandmother and Tabini’s son and heir would never survive the trip?
    Certain significant people seemed to have relied heavily on that belief.
    Or perhaps they had hoped to have everything so firmly in their hands before the ship got back that Ilisidi would necessarily arrive in a nest of enemies.
    The rebels had not been able to get into orbit and take the station from Geigi, at least, and it might be because they thought they would not