Betrayer: Foreigner #12 by C. J. Cherryh Page A

knew nand’ Toby was going to find out he had lied. It was all going to come out, and nand’ Toby was going to be his enemy forever.
    And then footsteps came running down the hall, light footsteps that raced straight to nand’ Toby’s door. A knock, and Antaro opened the door herself and said, “Nandi!”
    “Just a minute,” he said to nand’ Toby, and he got up and went outside with Antaro and shut the door.
    “The bus is up at the crossroads,” she said in a low voice, breathing hard. “They are coming, nandi.”
    “Is Barb-daja all right?”
    A slight bow. “One has not heard, nandi. They are not talking with the bus because of security.”
    He put his head into the room, said, “I’ll be right back!” and then shut the door, leaving nand’ Toby only with Jegari. He headed down the hall with Antaro, keeping up with her long strides—Antaro, like Jegari, was in her late teens and at least a head taller than he was. They were Taibeni, from the woods, hunters, even if the Guild would not let them have weapons as a matter of course. They were protection: they knew how to move; and they were apprentice Guild, at least.
    The two of them climbed the stairs fast and came up onto the main floor, which was not bare stone and concrete like the basement. Upstairs was all polished wood paneling, stone pavings, and a glorious stained glass window—except the window was all dark, now, covered in boards outside, the way every window in the house was kept shuttered. The whole house had a feeling of being wrapped in blankets, darkened, made into a stronghold. The lights upstairs were always on, day and night, and servants were always somewhere about—in this case, gathering in the hall, waiting.
    Mani had her suite in mid-hall. Cenedi came out of that door. And the security station was set up in the library, which was even closer to the big double doors that led outside: Nawari and Casari came out of there, and joined Cenedi. Ramaso, nand’ Bren’s majordomo at Najida, came and stood on the other side of the hall from Cenedi, with several of the staff. The servants all had heard the news, just about as fast.
    If one was still a little short of fortunate nine, and wise about it, one situated oneself at the intersection of the dining room hall and the main hall and kept very quiet and out of the way.
    One hoped Jegari could keep nand’ Toby in bed downstairs. Jegari was at least bigger than Toby.
    The crossroads with the main road was not that far from the house, and the bus would not be wasting any time, he was sure. Cenedi was just keeping the house doors shut because having them open even for a moment had been dangerous lately, and the bus was big and noisy and could draw fire if there happened to be snipers out there. The several of Great-grandmother’s bodyguard who were posted on the roof would take care of enemies if any showed themselves, but Cenedi was still being careful.
    “One hears the engine,” Antaro said, and it was true: he could hear it too, and so must everybody else. Cajeiri took a deep breath and composed himself not to fidget. He straightened his cuffs and tried to look as proper as possible, given he had been working and did not have on one of his better coats. Antaro had a wisp of hair loose from her queue, but he did not point that out to her, either. Antaro had been working hard and had an excuse.
    Outside, the bus rumbled up until the sound echoed off the portico roof, and it came to a stop right outside the doors.
    Then Cenedi signaled to open those doors, Ramaso passed the order with a move of his hand, and two servants unlocked them and threw the bar back.
    The bus was out there, an amazing apparition, its shiny red sides dusty but looking undamaged and without bullet holes.
    Everybody crowded toward the door. Cajeiri took the chance and got a view, but he did not tempt mani’s wrath by going outside.
    And then the bus doors opened, and first down the steps came Barb-daja, her bright