It was blissful contentment—not without, however, the awareness that very many people were spending the night in somewhat less comfort, on guard around the estate, even on its roof. A little wind had started up, audibly whistling around the eaves, and there had been clouds in the west, good indicator of weather to come before morning. Bren sighed, rolled over, and rested his head against Jago’s shoulder. A knock came at the door. Jago rolled out of bed so fast his head hit the mattress. An atevi knock meant somebody was opening the door, and that didn’t exclude assassins. Jago met the opening door stark naked except for a gun. The intruder, limned in the dim light from the sitting room, had a Guild-uniform outline. And said, “Excuse me, nandi, but there is trouble at Najida.” God. That was Tano. Bren bailed out of bed in no different condition than Jago and grabbed a robe. “What trouble, Tano-ji?” “An attack, nandi. Your brother is injured, and Barb-daja is missing.” His heart went leaden.
