by E G Manetti
She does not mention that milord sealed the clasp lock with his DNA and that she cannot remove it.
“Have you need of the thorn within Serengeti?” Apollo frowns.
“It was but a precaution,” Lilian says carefully. “Milord permitted it so I could have it with me when traveling between Serengeti and Katleen’s house. As it happens, it served me well not two months gone, but I may say no more about it.”
At Lilian’s words, Apollo, who has been mentally reviling Lucius for failing to protect Lilian since the Five Warriors’ Festival, begins to revise his opinion. “Come, I wish to introduce you to the Duet pair for this year’s festival.”
Gathered by Adelaide’s effigy are half a dozen prelates and acolytes in the vestments of Adelaide and Socraide. The nine-foot carved stone figure of a seated woman in battle dress rests on a four-foot-high pedestal, a sword in one hand and the other hovering over the thorn at her hip—the alcove’s ritual blade. Dangling from a leather belt are a dozen leather balls carefully crafted to resemble shrunken heads. Proportional to the statue, the leather balls are almost half the size of a human head and remarkably realistic in appearance.
Standing with her back to the statue, the alcove keeper is a tall, stern woman of middle years. Next to her is the alcove discipline master, a fierce man in his early sixties with Trevelyan’s height. With them is Socraide’s Shrine Keeper Virgil. A stocky man in his late eighties with a short curly beard, Virgil appears benevolent, but his tongue is as sharp as his wit. Virgil mercilessly employed both against Remus Gariten’s tainted offspring, inflaming the hostility of Lilian’s neighbors until Lucius Mercio had to use his considerable authority as Socraide’s Lord Patron to silence the keeper.
The other three are unknown and quickly introduced. The raw-boned woman of middle years is the Socraide Discipline Master. The young man of average height with a lean muscled build is the acolyte intended for the Socraide role in this year’s Duet. The slight young woman with him is the alcove acolyte who will execute the Adelaide role.
With the introductions complete, Apollo places a hand on Lilian’s shoulder and announces, “Lilian is an accomplished Adelaide. I would use her in the Duet if I could.”
At Apollo’s announcement, the alcove keeper and discipline master stiffen, and Virgil’s expression turns sour.
“Apollo?” Lilian questions. What does he? The alcove keeper and discipline master barely tolerate her, and Virgil despises her. Unwelcome in the Garden Center Warrior Ring, Lilian executed her consecration at the obscure alcove in the River Quarter.
Squeezing her shoulder, Apollo continues to address the other prelates. “Make no mistake. Lilian is Adelaide’s consecrated. Her devotions honor this alcove.”
It is an order that neither the alcove keeper nor the discipline master can ignore. With ill grace, they bow their heads in acceptance of the Lord Prelate’s will. If possible, Virgil’s expression turns even more unpleasant.
Eyeing the assembled with disfavor, Apollo continues, “Lilian, I have been attempting to demonstrate the Duet Inversion, but they do not comprehend.”
“The Inversion?” Lilian startles. When executed in reverse, the reenactment of the legendary duel between Socraide and Adelaide becomes a dance of seduction. That interpretation is controversial within the Shrines, and Socraide’s Lady Prelate refused to allow it at public rituals. “Has Socraide’s Lady Prelate reversed her position? Do you intend to introduce the Inversion at this year’s festival?”
“Not reversed, no. ‘Softened’ is a better word,” Apollo concedes reluctantly. “We may introduce the Inversion to the shrines. The individual shrine keepers will decide on its use. Even should Socraide’s Keeper Virgil embrace the Inversion, it will not be ready for introduction for another year. Virgil cannot decide if he cannot understand.”
“How can I aid you in this?” Lilian asks, suspecting she knows the answer.
“You must be the Adelaide,” Apollo announces excitedly. “The Socraide is strong enough. Do you lead, he shall follow. Come, take your place. The primary forms only.”
Grabbing Lilian’s hand, Apollo attempts to drag her into the area established for rehearsing the Duet. It is as Lilian suspected. Digging in her heels, Lilian states, “Apollo, it is impossible. I cannot. I will not.”
Halted in his headlong rush toward his goal, and confounded by the refusal from one who was once his most enthusiastic disciple, Apollo exclaims, “Cannot? Will not? Why not?”
Confusion turning to concern, Apollo takes both Lilian’s hands in his. “Has your ordeal broken your faith?”
Shocked at the suggestion, Lilian squeezes the prelate’s hands. “Of course not. Honor endures.”
“What then?” Apollo is at a loss.
Gently pulling her hands free, Lilian explains, “Monsignor Lucius would be displeased if I were to do this. I cannot. I will not.”
“His Preeminence has no authority to interfere in matters of faith.” For all his puckish ways, Apollo is not without the dignity of his office. Even Monsignor Lucius Mercio has no right to interfere with the will of the Shades.
“Monsignor has a great deal of authority when it comes to who may interfere with me,” Lilian retorts, embarrassed and annoyed. “You desire me not, Lord Prelate. I assure you, the Socraide does.” Lilian nods her head in the direction of the Socraide, who is regarding Lilian with blatant interest. “We cannot execute the Inversion without contact, and blatantly implied carnal contact at that. It is impossible.”
Dumfounded, Apollo is at a loss. To both his and Lilian’s amazement, Keeper Virgil breaks the impasse. “I believe I can provide an alternative Socraide for the demonstration that will not offend Monsignor Lucius. Please, permit me a moment.”
The newly elevated Apollo Acacia has been resident on Metricelli Prime for barely a sevenday. Each day feels as years to Virgil. The man is impossible, a constant assault to Order. As Socraide’s Shrine Keeper, Virgil is finding it decidedly unpleasant to be on the wrong side of his lord patron’s will. Lucius’ ire did naught to alter Virgil’s negative opinion of Lilian, but he very much wishes to move to a more comfortable relationship with the increasingly powerful Serengeti preeminence. Supporting Apollo now may well aid Virgil in his goal.
The agile woman of middle years would meet even Lucius’ strict requirements. As it develops, the replacement Socraide is a better choice for the demonstration. More accomplished than the young man, she quickly internalizes the shift in movement that turns an elegant ballet of the trial by combat into a mating ritual. Within ten minutes, it is very clear that the Inversion is a powerful ritual. It is also apparent to the alcove keeper and Virgil why Socraide’s Shrine Keeper at Mulan’s Temple once described it as demon inspired.
Sevenday 94, Day 3
Sipping sparkling wine, Lucius represses a smile at the sight of his spymaster lightly fingering the gold-trimmed hilt of his warrior dagger. The one-time Universalist may never be entirely comfortable with the trappings of a ranked warrior of Serengeti. “Relax, Trevelyan, the warrior ring militia is well trained, and your operatives have fireburst pistols. If there is trouble, it will be over before you need your dagger.”
The center of the shrine ring is crowded with the elite of Crevasse City enjoying the annual shrine patrons’ reception that is a festival eve tradition. The annual Five Warriors’ Festival is the high point of the spiritual cycle and a welcome break from commerce for all, from lowly servitor to preeminence. For the shrines, the night before the festival is an opportunity to entertain their most generous patrons and encourage continued and increased patronage for the coming year. The mild green season encourages the outdoor event, hundreds of tiny lights illuminating the interior of the shrine ring and the refreshment pavilions pitched at the entrance of each shrine. Musicians surround the central fountain, mingling the melodic sounds of flutes and strings with the murmur of cascading water.
Eyeing the milling throng, Trevelyan grumbles, “All three Serengeti govern
ors in an open air reception, along with half the Cartel seigneurs? I enjoyed it better last year when I was fire-armed and invisible.”
“Socraide’s Sword!” Lucius laughs, clapping Trevelyan on the shoulder. “It has been a decade since the pirates were defeated, and with them significant civil unrest. Enjoy the reception. Half the warriors present are looking for liaisons.”
“I do not require a shrine reception to find bed companions,” Trevelyan huffs and then ruins his pretended outrage by noting, “Several of the acolytes are quite appealing.”
“Go.” Lucius gives Trevelyan a light push. “I will let you know when I am ready to depart.”
With Estella too weary to attend, Lucius does not intend to remain long. It is essential to his role as Socraide’s Third System Lord Patron that he put in an appearance. He has already acknowledged Sinead’s Keeper and Mulan’s. Pleasant enough prelates, their ties to Blooded Dagger are minor. As much as Lucius would enjoy interrogating Sinead’s Keeper about Lilian’s mother, Helena, it would be unseemly. If the seer was in attendance, that would be another matter.
“Do you lack anything, Lucius?” Rimon’s Keeper interrupts Lucius’ internal musings. By the keeper’s elbow, an acolyte hovers, eager to serve.
“Kyndel, well met.” Lucius briefly grasps the other man’s shoulder. The keeper is a slight man in his nineties with a mild demeanor. “I have all I need.”
“How fares Lady Estella?” Sorrow briefly flickers across Kyndel’s face. Other than Chin and Estella’s family, he is the only one who knows of her decline.
“Regretting that she could not attend,” Lucius says. “I left her instructing Elysia on the proper technique for throwing a dagger.”
Kyndel smiles and nods his understanding. Estella is tired, but not unwell. He knows Lucius will say naught further about Estella’s health in this public setting. “Your daughter does well in her training. Her discipline honors her mother.”
By custom, Lucius’ sons follow Socraide, while Elysia follows her mother’s deity, Rimon.
“You have done well with Elysia,” Lucius compliments. Kyndel’s mild demeanor masks unswerving diligence in training young warriors and ardent devotion to Rimon, regarded as the fiercest of the Five Warriors. “She is advanced in discipline for her years.”
“Well met, Kyndel, Lucius.” Gilead, Jonathan’s Prelate, joins them.
Lucius is briefly annoyed by the interruption and then amused. For a decade, it has been a dance between prelate and preeminence. Gilead is the Lord Prelate of a powerful sect. Lucius is Preeminence of a powerful cartel. Gilead is also the paramour of the Third Systems’ Lady Governor, who happens to dislike and distrust Lucius—not entirely without cause. When Lucius needed Governing Council support to combat the pirates, he used less than ethical means to compel Lady Moira to support him. Their relationship remains strained, and Gilead has followed his lover’s lead. That Gilead has approached instead of waiting for chance to place them in the same conversation is a significant acknowledgement of Lucius’ increasing influence.
“Have you met Adelaide’s Prelate, Lord Apollo?” Gilead grins slyly, indicating the smaller man.
Engrossed in the implications of Gilead’s approach, Lucius had not noted the prelate’s companion. Before Lucius can react, Apollo leaps into conversation. “You have my gratitude for your indulgence, Monsignor. Mistress Lilian has long been a favorite of mine. I was delighted to find she remains strong in her faith and fiercer than ever. I admire that belt. Pity we cannot employ her for the Duet. Mayhap in the future, should it be Adelaide’s will. Which it most likely will be. Adelaide made her preference for Lilian known years ago.”
As with many encountering Apollo Acacia for the first time, Lucius is stunned and fascinated by the energy and power of the man’s personality. It is as though a windstorm has taken human form. During the wild discourse, Lucius does not notice Gilead and Kyndel fading away. More than a little perplexed, Lucius questions, “You refer, Lord Prelate, to the story of Lilian’s dedication?”
It is a story Lucius learned after the last Warriors’ Festival. Lilian’s family intended her for the Fourth Warrior, Jonathan Metricelli, the patron of the Gariten family. Remus Gariten had wished an elaborate ritual for his four-year-old daughter. Bored by the delay, Lilian wandered off. Eventually, they discovered her in the lap of Adelaide’s effigy, playing with the deity’s warbelt. Convinced that Adelaide had called the little girl, the alcove keeper immediately dedicated Lilian to Adelaide Warleader. Her father responded with rage and her mother with laughter. The story continues to amuse Lucius, particularly since leather balls crafted to resemble shrunken heads hang from the belt.
“Monsignor knows the story?” Apollo grins. “I suspect the family version? The one where they leave out that Lilian blooded herself?”
“Blooded herself?”
Openly delighted by Lucius’ stunned reaction, Apollo rushes on. “In the old form of the dedication ritual, the blood offering was placed on one of the heads. The alcove keeper found Lilian, with Adelaide’s Thorn in her lap, carefully smearing blood on the leather effigy that represents Robert Dragon the Betrayer, Adelaide’s Hound and Demon Master.”
Lucius represses a snort at the prelate’s overblown narrative. He well understands why his pragmatic apprentice would omit that portion of the tale. At the same time, Apollo is a friend to Lilian, and she has few enough of those. Diplomatically, he suggests, “Lord Prelate, should a four-year-old get hold of a thorn, we can expect blood.” Unable to completely repress a smile, Lucius adds, “Nor is it surprising that it ends up on the nearest surface.”
“True, Monsignor, true,” Apollo returns Lucius’ smile. “Lilian would say so as well. Nonetheless, there was only the one cut, in the center of her left palm as the ritual demands. The only other surface with blood on it was Lilian’s tunic where she cleaned the thorn before returning it to its sheath.” His smile disappearing, Apollo says, “Lilian wears that blade on her belt. It was there yesterday.”
“Adelaide’s Alcove Keeper permitted a four-year-old to carry off a shrine relic?” Lucius cannot believe it. “I have held that blade. The hilt is no more than two centuries old, but the blade is ancients’ metal.”
More precious than Vistrite, the steel alloy of ancients’ metal is lightweight, nearly indestructible, and never loses its edge. The secrets of its fabrication were lost in the Anarchy. Most of what survived are in museums and private collections. Were Lilian to sell it, it would command the price of a personal transport. From its age, Lucius assumed it was the only family heirloom Lilian was able to retain and the last remnant of her family’s honor. As a shrine relic, it is a mighty talisman.
“Lilian refused to release it.” Apollo’s eyes are hard with purpose. “She insisted ‘the lady’ had given it to her, and ‘the lady’ said Lilian had need of it.”
“The shrine keeper yielded it, that readily?” Lucius scoffs. Religious antiques are highly revered and play a significant role in the status of the shrine or alcove. To pry one loose from its shrine requires a very impressive offering.
“He decided it was Adelaide’s will,” Apollo retorts. With a baiting glance, Apollo adds, “I have been to that alcove. I comprehend the keeper’s conviction. The block that effigy sits on is over four feet high. Add the height of Adelaide’s lap and it tops five feet. Lilian has always been athletic, but I do not believe she has ever been able to fly.”
7. The Festival Duet
When the Shrines evolved from scholarly repositories to fortresses of safety during the first centuries of Order, the shrine prelates gained significant influence. Although they do not rival the power of the Cartels, the Shrines control considerable wealth and have absolute authority in spiritual matters. To be a discipline master, the prelate must undergo a trial by combat. To be a canon master, the prelate must achieve master scholar status in the sect’s history, canon, and discipline. By custom, a shrine keeper is either a canon master or a discipline master.
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Inheritance is the most common form of appointment, but the keeper has the right to choose a successor from any of the masters deemed suitable, not only those of direct descent. Only those of warrior ancestry are eligible to be elevated to sect prelates. To hold the position of Lord or Lady Prelate is to hold a seat on the Governing Council and the right to appoint the holders of the sect’s other seats on the Governing Council. ~ excerpt from The Foundations of Order, a scholarly treatise.
Sevenday 94, Day 4
Awake. Upright in bed, thorn in her hand, Lilian surveys her chamber. Bright light streams in the windowed doors to the balcony. Music trills from the slate on the bedside table, the tempo of the strings and pipes as bright as the daylight. Reflexively, Lilian reaches out and silences the alarm as she slides from bed.
Nude, her thorn loose in her hand, Lilian glides across the chamber and out onto the barren balcony. The sky above the courtyard opening is a brilliant turquoise laced with a few high thin clouds. The courtyard is serene. Silent. Naught to explain what broke her sleep. In this, the lack of servants has benefit. There are none to be corrupted into allowing a stealthy entrance. The house itself is well secured; naught but a frontal assault will gain entry without an invitation. It is not the first time Lilian has started awake to confront a threat that does not exist.
Is it happening more frequently? More overreaction to Master Malcon’s stealth training? With a mental shrug, Lilian turns from the balcony. It is time to ready for the day. The Warriors’ Festival has always been one of the highlights of Lilian’s year. This year, she greets it with far more enthusiasm than she has felt at dawn since the ruin.
I am the sum of my ancestors. Easing into the contemplative forms of her discipline, Lilian begins her day.
»◊«
Lilian slides the black trousers over her legs, savoring the caress of the silk and linen blend. Milord’s gift of festival garb is finer than her Cartel suits, or anything else Lilian can afford. Today I live.