Fortuna

by E G Manetti

  Virgil’s eyes flash brief annoyance before his serene prelate’s mask slips firmly into place. With a polite murmur, the keeper takes his leave to greet the other shrine guests.

  “Lucius, was it necessary to drive Virgil away?” Estella demands. “I know you have not forgiven him, but I wished to learn about these improper requests of Mistress Lilian.”

  “Improper?” Lucius frowns. “I suspect that is another of Virgil’s inventions. Apollo favors men.”

  “He said this was the second argument between them,” Lady Estella counters.

  “I beg pardon, Monsignor. Lady Estella,” Nickolas enters the conversation. “I know not the cause of Lord Apollo’s disagreement with Mistress Lilian, but they appear to be on good terms. He joined her in her devotions at the Alcove.”

  “Truly? It is a mystery then. I shall have a lovely time discovering the truth of the matter. I do believe this is the most entertaining shrine presentation in years.” Returning her attention to Lucius, Estella inquires, “Are you ready to depart, my love? I grow weary.”

  The crowds are thinning. With a gesture, Lucius beckons Mr. George. By Sinead’s pavilion, Lilian and her complement are preparing to depart. Lucius is pleased to see two of Sinead’s acolytes join the small group. The protection of Sinead’s Shrine will deter those who might wish to cause trouble.

  8. Travel Preparations

  Directly descended from the Five Warriors and their principal retainers, Order is bred into every warrior at the cellular level. Generational mapping maintains the dominance of the Five Warriors’ genetic legacy while intermarriage assures that modern warriors are genetically linked to more than one of the Five Warriors. The warriors, in turn, accept the duty to govern the Twelve Systems and hold anarchy at bay. In the eighth century of the Order of the Five Warriors, a few rogue scientists and medics fell prey to the lure of anarchy. Using genetic filtering techniques developed to eliminate birth defects, these Servants of Anarchy attempted to graph genetic material from warrior repositories into commoners. Had they succeeded, anarchy would have returned as competing factions warred for control of the deities’ genetic material. In an unprecedented act of consensus, the Governing Council enacted protocols forbidding genetic engineering. Violations of the genetic purity strictures are punishable by the Final Draught. ~ excerpt from A Social History of the Twelve Systems, an academy text.

  Sevenday 95, Day 3

  “Katleen, you are not attending.” Lilian frowns.

  With a groan, Katleen flops backward onto the courtyard stone floor with the same gracelessness that has bedeviled the training session. Katleen’s focus was so poor that a small nudge intended to bring her attention toppled her.

  “I beg pardon, Lilian. I know not what is wrong,” Katleen whines, pale and puffy eyed. “It is as though my body is not my own.”

  “You may be coming into your cycles.” Lilian reaches down a hand to help Katleen to her feet. Lilian has been watching for the signs and has alerted Sinead’s Keeper to watch as well. There is no guarantee that Maman will be lucid, or Lilian at home, when the inevitable occurs. “Does your belly cramp?”

  “No, Lilian.” Katleen hauls herself upright with a sulky expression. “I will tell you when it happens.”

  Repressing her irritation, Lilian reaches for patience. It is not Katleen’s fault. It is a good moment to enlist Katleen in something her sister will enjoy, and Lilian cannot manage on her own.

  “Come, sit with me. I have need of your aid.” At Lilian’s words, Katleen’s clumsiness disappears and she drops lightly onto the stone bench.

  “Is it combat?” Katleen asks excitedly.

  “In a fashion.” Lilian smiles wryly. “At least, it is something I lack the time to master. I require evening frocks, but not gowns, in gold. They should be in two pieces and fashionable.”

  “New frocks!” Katleen clasps her hands in delight. “Gold means Blooded Dagger. Are they for Fortuna? Why two pieces?”

  Avoiding the awkward discussion of the warbelt, Lilian says, “Both the stellar transport and Fortuna will include evening receptions, but Mistress Marieth informs me that the style is less formal than Crevasse City.” Without mentioning milord’s will, Lilian adds, “The skirts must be at least four inches above my knees.”

  “Can we afford something nice?” Katleen’s excitement overwhelms her curiosity about the specifics. “Frocks from the Garden Center boutiques?”

  Pleased with Katleen’s improved mood, Lilian gently tugs Katleen’s queue. “Monsignor Lucius provides the funds. We can afford the same quality as when Monsignor replaced our festival garb. However, we cannot use the Garden Center boutiques. I am only at liberty on Seventh Day and that would not be wise.”

  Lilian represses a shudder at the notion of the hostility they would encounter in the Garden Center boutiques on a busy Seventh Day. “The second level families of the Universalists are very fashionable. I hoped you could inquire among your friends at school. We will shop this Seventh Day. You will need to forgo your race training.”

  “I will be ready. Gold is fashionable this season; we should have no difficulty.” Katleen bounces from the bench. “By the time you return this evening, I will have some suggestions.”

  »◊«

  “Seigneur Trevelyan has no objection,” Rebecca says as she pulls a chair next to Lilian’s worksite. “In fact, he seemed pleased that I would stay with your mother and sister while you are exit planet for the Bright Star summit.”

  Rebecca is flattered to be so trusted by her friend and excited by the notion of two sevendays in the Garden Center District. As with most of the Serengeti apprentices, Rebecca resides in one of several Serengeti Associates’ Quarters in the Commerce District. Well maintained and comfortable, they are the best Rebecca has ever known, even with the strict chaperone protocols. Nonetheless, they are naught compared with a private house in the Garden Center District. Nor is Rebecca unwilling to admit that she is profoundly curious about what goes on within the heavily shuttered home of Sinead’s Seer. As it happens, Trevelyan is equally curious and Rebecca’s instructions include a complete survey of the house’s security.

  “Have you need, Chrys, Clarice, and Tabitha will all provide aid,” Lilian continues.

  “Worry not. Should aught go awry, I will send to Seigneur Trevelyan. Seigneur is very fond of Katleen, although he knows not Lady Helena,” Rebecca reassures. “I find the Lady Helena exceedingly gracious, if occasionally difficult to comprehend. Will my presence trouble the seer?”

  “Truly, Maman holds you in regard,” Lilian assures Rebecca in turn. “My mother recognized you as a Raven sevendays before Seigneur Trevelyan acquired your bond. Should she do aught to disquiet you, send to Sinead’s Shrine. They will know the way of it.”

  »◊«

  “How frequently are you chilled?” Chin asks, examining Estella for signs of increasing illness. The bright, post-midday light shines through the tall windows of Estella’s chambers, aiding Chin’s scrutiny. With each passing season, her bones seem more fragile, the translucent skin more thinly stretched. In spite of all Chin’s efforts, the genetic disorder will take her in another year, four seasons at best.

  “Most evenings,” Estella replies, closing her eyes against building frustration. “The potion helps, but it leaves me weak and tired.”

  “I can adjust the dosage,” Chin suggests, finishing his exam. “It will only alleviate the chill, not eliminate it, but you will not feel weak.”

  “Do it, please.” Estella pulls her robe closed. “I would keep my wits and strength for as long as possible.”

  “You could relocate to the Southern Continent,” Chin suggests, not for the first time. “The temperate climate would help.”

  “We have discussed this.” Estella rises and walks to the stone balcony that overlooks the gardens of the Mercio Garden Center estate. Located at the north end of the Garden Center District, the gracious mansion is adjacent to the parkland. “I will not leave Lucius and my
children. I have little enough time left with them.”

  “As you will,” Chin says with resignation. Helping Estella onto the loveseat, he covers her with a soft blanket. “Although, you should not hide your weakness from Lucius. He already harbors false hope.”

  “He has faith in you.” Estella takes Chin’s hand to draw him down with her. “You have done so much already.”

  “I can do no more with genetic filtering,” Chin says wearily. “If I could graft Lucius’ genetic material to yours, mayhap.”

  “And be executed for heresy?” Estella scoffs. “Nor would Lucius or I risk an indictment of genetic engineering. It would call into question the legitimacy of our children’s bloodlines.”

  “And so you will die,” Chin scowls. “For no other reason than the warrior elite will not risk warrior genetic matter mingling with that of commoners.”

  “Peace, Chin,” Estella scolds gently. “You know that with ungoverned genetic blending, anarchy is but a step away. As it is, were it not for your genius, we would never have wed and had children.”

  Born the youngest and only female child of a distinguished warrior family, Estella led a charmed youth. As she approached her majority, it all changed. First, Estella’s lovely and gracious mother died of an unknown malady before passing sixty. Estella’s father, broken by grief, retreated from his family for five years. Bereft by her mother’s demise, heartbroken by her father’s abandonment, Estella clung to her brothers. Then her eldest brother contracted the same mysterious illness and died before attaining his forty-fifth year.

  At the onset of her brother’s illness, Estella enlisted the aid of her foster brother, a brilliant commoner who had trained as a medic. Chin labored day and night to isolate the source of the illness, only to discover not a disease but a genetic disorder. One that had been developing in Estella’s maternal line for several generations. The damage was so subtle, it was unlikely that Estella’s mother knew she carried damaged genetics when she wed and conceived.

  Knowing what he sought, Chin worked frantically to find an answer before Estella’s other brother was also lost. It was to no avail. By the time she reached her thirtieth year, Lady Estella, the most beautiful, brilliant, devious, and sought after warrior in a century, dared not wed. She could offer a spouse naught but dead heirs and a wife doomed to an early grave.

  “I have never thought Lucius worthy of you.” Chin lightly squeezes Estella’s hand. “But I have never doubted his devotion.”

  “You were certainly unkind enough when he first wooed me,” Estella reminds her foster brother.

  “I believed that he would abandon you when he learned of your genetics,” Chin replies.

  “If you had not found a means to filter my genetics to give us living heirs, I would have abandoned him,” Estella says.

  “It is well that he was a viable match.” Chin sighs. “After a year of his determined courtship, you were completely besotted with Lucius. It would have broken your heart to send him away.”

  “I feared his father would see to it,” Estella admits. “Tiberius was horrified to discover that Lucius wished to wed a woman who would not live past fifty. Nor was Tiberius convinced our children would have a normal life span.”

  “They will live well past one hundred,” Chin assures her. “With what I have learned, if we choose their spouses wisely, your grandchildren will be free of the genetic damage.”

  “And you wonder why Lucius expects another miracle?” Estella teases. “And I have already survived years beyond my brothers.”

  “And outlived Tiberius,” Chin agrees grimly. “At least the conservative old warrior lived to know his line would continue.”

  “If he had not died in that stellar transport crash, he would still be Serengeti preeminence and bedeviling Lucius.” Estella’s expression turns dark. “It is well he is gone. Did he live after my passing, he would try to force Lucius into wedlock to advance the Cartouche.”

  “You do not wish Lucius to wed again?”

  “Lucius will not enter an alliance that would endanger the standing of my children,” Estella says carefully. “Tiberius would not be so concerned.”

  “There is always risk with a second spouse.” Chin nods. “If not in this generation, then the next.”

  “It is well that Lucius is half enamored of Lilian,” Estella says. “She will keep him distracted in the worst of his grief.”

  “Enamored?” Chin is stunned.

  “Chin, you sound shocked,” Estella says with a wry smile. “You, as much as anyone, know the idea that love is for equals is ridiculous.”

  “True enough, I loved you from my fifteenth year,” Chin admits, knowing that Estella loves him as a brother, not a man. Chin has reconciled to it, but it does not alter his feelings. “But I am surprised you are willing to share Lucius’ affection.”

  “Do not be silly.” Estella laughs. “Lucius loves me before all others. But I cannot remain with him, and I would have him comforted.”

  “What of Lilian? Have I aught to do with it, you will live past her bond period. Is she likely to stay with him?”

  “She will stay with Lucius as long as he wants her,” Estella says confidently. “She is in love with him.”

  “What say you?”

  “She told Lucius that she would not have wished that scourging from Grey Spear, but she was glad of it since it benefited Blooded Dagger,” Estella explains.

  “She holds to her bond,” Chin retorts. “She has a great deal of honor, warrior or not.”

  “Do not be foolish,” Estella chides. “No one is that loyal to the Cartouche. It is Lucius who commands her loyalty, and that level of loyalty can only come from love.”

  “Does Lucius know?”

  “I should not think so. He does not even recognize his own feelings,” Estella says with an indulgent smile. Her expression turning severe, she adds, “It is better he not know it, for now. Say nothing.”

  “Give me no such look.” Chin replies, shaking his head. “I have no desire to be on the receiving end of Lucius’ reaction should I suggest he has tender feelings for his apprentice. As for Lilian, if you are right, she has trial enough without having her feelings revealed.”

  9. Shimmering Horizon

  All stellar transports utilize Vistrite-controlled propulsion and communications systems that can link to the Ayres Alliance’s navigation and communication beacons. Depending on the caliber of the transport, leaps between beacons can take as little as a few bells or as long as several sevendays. Licensed by the Governing Council, the faster the stellar transport travels between systems, the higher the licensing fees. For passenger transports, only those supporting the heavily travelled routes among the highly developed systems can justify the costs of the fastest propulsion systems. The less popular the route, the fewer the number of luxury and other passenger transports available to serve it. ~ excerpt from Twelve Systems Commerce, an academy primer.

  Sevenday 96, Day 7

  Lackwit. Lackwit. Lackwit. Even with Mistress Marieth’s assistance, Lilian has not properly prepared for the trip to Fortuna. With a baleful gaze, Lilian inventories the suits, training garb, and two gold frocks. The frocks proved more of a challenge than anticipated. The current fashion is for gowns rather than skirts and tunics. Although Lilian can pull popular clingy knits beneath the warbelt, they are exceptionally revealing. Even if Lilian were comfortable in such garb, based on the gown milord provided for the Bright Star reception, milord would not approve.

  Due to Katleen’s diligent searching, Lilian has two acceptable outfits. For any occasion when livery is not appropriate, the mist green from Katleen’s thirteenth birth festival is also included. What is missing is a sarong.

  Within milord’s quarters, Lilian can no more take her ease in her training garb than she could at milord’s penthouse. Other than her suits and training garb, Lilian’s wardrobe consists of soft cotton trousers and simple shells. Not only are they far too casual, Lilian doubts milord will be plea
sed by trousers. In her obsession with the frocks, Lilian failed to consider the matter. Milord will arrive for her tomorrow at ninth bell in the morning. There is no time to rectify the oversight.

  “What concerns you?” Helena startles Lilian from her morose thoughts.

  “Maman, I am a fool.” Lilian drops dejectedly into her reading chair. “I have neglected something of import, and now I have no time for correction.”

  Stepping into the chamber, the seer perches on the edge of the bed, her pale green robe swirling around her. “What is it you lack?”

  Absently reaching for the tree-troll puppet resting on the battered side table, Lilian explains, “I lack something proper for garb in the after commerce.” With a gesture at her faded tunic and trousers, Lilian adds, “What I wear now will not please Monsignor.”

  “I imagine not,” Helena murmurs as she examines the folded garments. “What is your regular garb in such situations?”

  At Lilian’s blank look, Helena chuckles. “Lilian, do you truly spend five or six bells completely unclad? If so, worry not about your garb.”

  Lilian cannot decide which embarrasses her more, her mother’s comment or that her mother does not find the thought the least distressing. She can feel her blush reaching her hair. “No, Maman, a sarong. Usually there is a sarong. They are kept at the penthouse. I could have acquired one. I did not think. I was obsessed by the gold frocks.”

  “You have naught else?” Helena rises and crosses to the clothes cabinet. “Not even a robe?”

  “Sold or used for Katleen.” Lilian shrugs.

  “I have not your inches, but otherwise we are of a size,” the seer muses, abandoning the cabinet. “I may have something that will serve.”

  Releasing the puppet, Lilian regards Helena in something akin to wonder. It is not likely Maman can help, but her mother’s lucid moments have been coming more frequently in recent seasons. Shaking her head at her mother’s back, Lilian rises and begins to pack her travel bags. Luxury transports contain boutiques, although Lilian cringes at thought of prices that make the Serengeti boutiques resemble a flea market.