by E G Manetti
Raising her face, eyes dark with concern, Lilian suggests, “Should milord be willing, it would be simpler to demonstrate.”
Lucius is well and truly intrigued. If Lilian is able, he is more than willing to learn the new Duet form. “Are you certain you are able?”
“Yes, milord,” Lilian assures. “It will require no more than four or five of the primary forms for the nature of the Inversion to be apparent. It will not be elegant, but I will not fall.”
Sliding from the bunk, Lilian shrugs off the comforter, revealing she is clad in naught but lingerie. Repressing the urge to run his fingers over the scraps of black lace, Lucius follows Lilian into the reception salon.
Taking the opening Adelaide stance, Lilian explains, “The Inversion uses all the same forms as a standard Duet, but the roles are reversed. The Adelaide leads rather than follows.”
Curiosity increasing, Lucius takes position for the Socraide. It is awkward. The Adelaide block that normally follows the Socraide strike comes first. Lucius’ attempt to add the mock blow leads to confusion. Frowning, he demands, “Start again.”
They repeat the first form twice more before Lucius understands how to adapt his execution to the strange dynamic. By the fourth set of movements, Lucius understands why the Inversion is controversial. At the fifth form, instead of allowing the Adelaide to pull away as the form dictates, Lucius tightens his grip on Lilian’s shoulder and hip. Torn between amusement and outrage, Lucius drops onto the couch, pulling Lilian with him. “Unconventional, woman? You refer to this as unconventional? Think you that blasphemy might be a better term?”
“Milord, Apollo Acacia is Adelaide’s Prelate. I do not believe an indictment of blasphemy would prove.” Lilian’s voice is carefully neutral, but the tightening in her lips proves how close she is to a smile. “Socraide’s Keeper at Mulan’s Temple is the only one to ever use the words demon devised.”
“I expect that Socraide’s Prelate will share that opinion, if she does not already.” Lucius laughs as he imagines Apollo attempting to convince the severe woman who is Socraide’s Lady Prelate that the Inversion is canonically valid.
“Milord, apparently Socraide’s Prelate is not so narrow in her thinking,” Lilian protests. “Did I not mention that Lord Prelate Apollo is introducing the Inversion at the shrines? Socraide’s Prelate is leaving the matter in the hands of her shrine keepers. She is willing to be guided by their will in this.”
Socraide’s Prelate is extremely narrow in her thinking, Lucius muses. She had been a strong voice among those who called for Lilian’s execution two years gone. She would be appalled at the Inversion. The notion that Apollo Acacia’s storm-wind tactics have bullied the Lady Prelate into acquiescence moves Lucius to fresh laughter.
At Lilian’s recounting of her demonstration of the Inversion for Socraide’s Shrine Keeper and Adelaide’s Alcove Keeper, Lucius’ laughter fades. Had Apollo succeeded in convincing Lilian to perform the improper execution with the first Socraide, Virgil could easily have used it to cause Lilian trouble. Lilian managed the situation well, but Apollo should not have put her in such a difficult position. Although Lucius enjoys the notion of Apollo bullying Socraide’s Keeper Virgil, he is less pleased at the idea that Adelaide’s Prelate will attempt to bully Lilian. It appears that Virgil is not the only one who will find the Lord Prelate’s presence in Crevasse City a trial. With a quick kiss, Lucius sends Lilian to ready herself for the evening.
»◊«
The savory scent of the evening meal greets Lilian when she returns to the reception chamber, her hair loose down her back and the sea-green silk gently caressing her skin. Unerringly, she seeks milord by the window into the expanse and finds him propped against a chairback, gazing out the windows. The heavy scarlet brocade robe is a bright flame against the black void.
Wordlessly, milord reaches out a hand, and Lilian enters his embrace, pulled against him, her back to his chest, his arms warm and strong as they face the endless night sky. The speed of the Shimmering Horizon turns the stars into flowing drops of light. It is a vista milord enjoys and Lilian finds even more disorienting than the view from the penthouse windows.
Lilian closes her eyes and relaxes against milord while her mind wanders and sifts through images and experiences of the past three days. Except for the restriction on the thorn and the regrettable issue with the call chime, travel has gone well. It is a happy circumstance that owes a great deal to Chrys’ and Rebecca’s aid. On their behalf, Lilian offers a brief prayer to the Five Warriors. When milord shifts, Lilian straightens and follows milord to the table and the meal that had appeared while she changed.
Lucius considers pulling free the veil covering Lilian’s breasts and then discards the idea. She is distracting enough as it is and there is something he wishes to discuss. Waiting until they have begun their meal, Lucius releases his curiosity. “How is that you so readily defy the Lord Prelate of your sect?”
It is not a casual matter to defy the leader of one’s spiritual home. For all his wealth and power, Lucius would hesitate to cross swords with the severe woman who is Socraide’s Lady Prelate. As improper as it might have been, Apollo could have insisted on a demonstration of the Inversion with the Socraide of his choice. Refusal could have created serious difficulty for Lilian within the alcoves. Lucius has no notion of the source of the confrontation after the festival Duet, but it is certain that Lilian successfully defied the man a second time.
“Readily, milord?” Lilian’s eyes widen in surprise. “Has milord encountered Lord Prelate Apollo? It is easier to halt a boulder rolling downhill than turn the Lord Prelate from his course.”
“By your account, you did turn him from his course over the Inversion,” Lucius counters.
“Yes, milord,” Lilian nods, “but my vow to Adelaide did not demand I provide a demonstration, it was a matter of convenience for Lord Apollo. Truly, were it a matter of faith, I would not succeed. Our disagreements have always related to stricture and custom.”
“Disagreements?” Lucius is fascinated. “Exactly how often have you defied Lord Prelate Apollo?”
Milord’s stunned fascination gives Lilian pause. She briefly considers evasion before abandoning the notion. It is true, in matters of faith milord may not compel her, but with Apollo settled for two years on Metricelli Prime, she will do better to satisfy milord’s curiosity. “Yes, milord, from our first greeting. At the time, the Lord Prelate was Discipline Master Apollo . . .”
Barely fifteen, Lilian was newly arrived at Mulan’s Temple when she presented herself at Adelaide’s Alcove for instruction in Adelaide’s discipline and canons. A recent growth spurt rendered her appearance so thin and frail that Apollo believed he could knock her over with a feather. Without hesitation he demanded her thorn for safekeeping, assuming she was years from competency. Customarily, the discipline master holds the blades of those in training to avert the accidents that can occur in unsupervised practice.
Lilian refused to yield her thorn.
Discipline Master Apollo spent fifteen minutes attempting to take it by force without feeling the sting of the suddenly unsheathed weapon. Into the rapidly deteriorating situation stepped the alcove keeper.
“You attempted to blood the discipline master of your alcove?” As shocking as it is, Lucius cannot help but be entertained by the image of fifteen-year-old Lilian holding at bay Apollo Acacia, a grown man and discipline master.
“I had no alternative, milord,” Lilian says earnestly. “Apollo would not listen or even try me. I had yielded the thorn once and not had it when I needed it. I would not do so again.”
Lucius does not need to ask; he knows when Lilian did not have the thorn when she needed it. It would have been in the custody of the discipline master at the Garden Center Alcove the day Lilian discovered Remus Gariten caning Helena. Nor does he wish to raise that ugly specter when Lilian is indulging in a rare, happy memory. Instead, he prompts, “How did it end?”
“The alcove keeper bade Apollo to
allow me to keep it.” Lilian smiles with the recollection. “She was well into her nineties at the time and a most fearsome woman. She said, ‘If you have not disarmed the girl in upwards of fifteen minutes, no one else will. Should she cut her own throat? Then your problem has solved itself. Better to get her competent, though. Living disciples provide better alcove offerings than dead ones.’ ”
“Fearsome indeed.” Lucius laughs. “What happened to her?”
“When she stepped down a few years later, after passing her hundredth year, Master Apollo was elevated to Alcove Keeper Apollo.” Lilian completes her history.
“How long before you achieved competency?” Lucius is curious to discover if the prelate holds a grudge. If Apollo wished, he could have repaid Lilian’s defiance by delaying her competency trial for a year or more.
“Another three months.” A hint of frustration tempers Lilian’s amusement. “Most of that time was spent with the short sword. Even though it is a secondary weapon in Adelaide’s discipline, Lord Prelate Apollo would not grant competency were I unable to handle so common a weapon.”
Lucius can well appreciate that the discipline master would have felt compelled to delay Lilian to maintain his authority. Nonetheless, it was a petty revenge and Lucius has no problem speaking so.
“Yes, milord, there was an element of pique in the Lord Prelate’s actions,” Lilian agrees, but she goes on to defend the prelate. “Although, as milord knows, time has proven his position held merit. Had Lord Prelate Apollo not done so, Maman’s training last year would not have been as effective.”
Ability to defend against a short sword had been a critical element in Lilian surviving Martin’s assault with a training short sword and emerging unscathed from the prior year’s festival brawl. If Lilian had not been sent from home at an early age, the confrontation with Apollo might not have occurred. Would she be such a fierce combatant had matters been different? Would she have such a strong supporter in the Lord Prelate of her sect? A shiver of awareness raises the hairs on the back of Lucius’ neck—the Touch of a Shade. Strong forces swirl around Lilian. At the time he gathered her into his shadow, he thought it naught but expedient. Now he wonders if those same forces have more in store for both of them.
12. Fortuna
A decade after the Code of Engagement and Governing Protocols were ratified by the Five Warriors, Rimon Ben Claude discovered and opened the Fourth System. Although many of the Twelve Systems’ worlds resemble the planets of the first Three Systems, with blue skies and blue to green oceans, a few have developed along other lines, including Fortuna.
Initially, the settlers found the purple seas and mauve sky unsettling, the local flora and fauna alien. In the nine hundred years since Fortuna was discovered, many of the flora and some of the fauna from the first Three Systems have been transplanted and cross-bred. As a result, green has mixed with blues in the plants even though the forms have evolved along different lines.
Fortuna’s initial settlement was a mining colony established to excavate Ruin, an uninhabitable world that is rich in base metals used in tower construction, transports, weapons, and conduits. While mining remains important to the Fortuna economy, it has also developed into the largest stellar transport and maintenance center in the Twelve Systems owing to its close proximity to Ruin and the metals required for construction. ~ excerpt from The Fourth System, a visitor’s guide.
Sevenday 97, Day 4
The howling of the hound combines with the moans of the walking dead man . . . Lilian races forward and leaps . . . The far edge of the Crevasse retreats . . . Lilian plummets deep into the abyss . . .
Upright on her bunk, racked with chills, soaked in sweat, the sounds of the dead man’s moans transform into Lilian’s labored breathing. Activating the lights, Lilian checks the time, fifth bell. She has slept but three bells.
Leaving milord near dark of night, Lilian remained wakeful until first bell for the final test of the transmission time on the coded messages. At that bell, the transport reached the beacon farthest from Metricelli Prime. The results were beyond her expectations: the coded messages remained at two periods for transmission, while regular alerts required almost eight periods. Too excited to sleep, she worked until the second bell before exhaustion had its way.
Lying back on her bunk, Lilian attempts to still her mind. I am the sum of my ancestors. I am the foundation of my family . . . After thirty minutes, the evil dream has faded. Sleep is no closer. Resigned to wakefulness, Lilian rises and organizes her travel bags for planet arrival. At least the phantom servitors will not be handling her lingerie.
»◊«
Stepping from the shower, Lucius follows a low humming to the door to Lilian’s chamber, toweling as he walks. The humming of the blower hides the sound of the door as it recesses to reveal Lilian, her back to him, using a brush and blower to tame her heavy waves into a smooth fall. Delicate scraps of cerulean blue silk ornament her back and buttocks, Adelaide’s Raven Wing mark in flight above the bright blue silk.
Lucius has viewed the dark red locks freed from restraint on many occasions. This is the first time he has witnessed them become restrained. Lilian’s hair is smooth but damp when the blower halts. With a practiced movement, Lilian tilts her head, brushing the damp hair tight to her scalp and constraining it in a set of nape ties to create the three inches of clubbed hair that will keep all in order for the day.
In the time it takes to blink, the woman serenely working her hair is facing him, her back straight, face composed. How did he alert her? Lucius knows he made no movement or sound. A hint of citrus follows Lilian’s movement—the scent of the cleansing products she prefers. It is as distinctive as the sea scent Lucius favors, and a scent Lilian would have recognized immediately.
“What is your will, milord?” Lilian’s eyes flicker warily to the call bell and then back to Lucius.
“Peace, I did not call.” Lucius correctly interprets Lilian’s glance.
At his words, Lilian visibly relaxes, her gaze skimming the towel draping his hips and along his torso before determinedly meeting his face, a slight flush on her cheeks. A pleasant jolt of arousal pools in Lucius’ loins at Lilian’s quickly repressed admiration. There is no urgency to the sensation; Lucius thoroughly enjoyed Lilian last evening and will do so again, soon. Noting the two small travel bags neatly arrayed on her bunk, Lucius covers his spying with a comment. “You are ready.”
“Yes, milord.” As Lucius starts to turn away, a questioning “Milord?” halts him.
At his expectant glance, Lilian’s face lightens. “Milord, the last data stream before we slowed, the coded messages held steady at two periods, alerts were eight.”
Socraide’s Sword! It is better than Lucius dared hope. Although the distance from the Fourth System to what will be the Thirteenth System is nearly four times the distance between the Third and Fourth Systems, the test has proven that coded alerts will travel at extraordinary speeds. Instead of days to receive information, Serengeti will have it within bells. A huge commercial advantage, it also means that if the SEV1 crew falls into distress, they will know and be able to send help days earlier than they might have otherwise. The timing difference Lilian has tested could be the difference between success and failure, and potentially the difference between life and death for the SEV1 crew. It is far more than Lucius dared hoped.
Exuberantly, Lucius pulls Lilian into his arms for a quick, hard kiss, molding the lithe form to his, savoring the warm silk of her skin against him. The pleasant tightening in his sex warns him they must cease. They have not the bells for dalliance. Mastery of pleasure. Lucius resolutely releases Lilian. “Ready for the day. Marco and Nickolas join us for the morning meal. We have much to discuss before planet arrival.”
»◊«
The stars that streamed past the window two bells gone have returned to stationary, and the red rock that is Ruin is already shrinking away behind them. After a busy morning and hasty midday meal, Lucius is content to re
lax for the next half period as they approach Fortuna. Seated next to him, Lilian is quiet, her ankles demurely crossed, her gray eyes serene. Stretching out his legs, Lucius contemplates the starlit expanse and that in a few years, he will control another section of it. “Is all in readiness for this evening’s briefing?”
“Yes, milord.” Lilian turns her serene gaze to him. “The Serengeti contingent will attend milord at seventh bell,” Lilian confirms. “Master Nickolas has all he needs to prepare the briefing from the results of the code trial.”
“Good.” Lucius nods. This morning they had only enough time to let Marco and Kemeha know that the transmission tests were successful, not the details. The breakthrough will be of significant benefit to Bright Star, but it is also a significant opportunity for Lucius. This evening the Serengeti contingent will be briefed and lay plans to extract the maximum advantage for Serengeti.
Three days with inadequate sleep has left Lilian drained. The enforced repose of planet approach is more than welcome. Lilian is content to sit quietly with milord and watch Fortuna emerge from the inky black. Although she has studied the visuals, the reality of the purple planet is forbidding. To date, Lilian’s experience has been with green and blue rocks. Somehow, the purple planet expanding to fill the window appears unnatural, ominous.
Swirling purple seas and gray and blue landmasses expand and fill the window. The nearly imperceptible thrum of the propulsion systems becomes a steady rumble as the Shimmering Horizon breaches the atmosphere. The planet surface rushes toward them, and then slows as the anti-gravity of the stellar transit center cushions their descent. Leaning forward, Lilian scans the approaching surface. A deep purple ocean spreads out to the west, the sparkling of a low city rimming the distant bay. To the east, reddish plains stretch to the horizon, a patchwork of darker shapes indicating the location of the stellar transport construction fields. In moments, the ocean disappears as the Shimmering Horizon drops below the line of hills that separates the bay and the plains. A breath later, the distant construction zone slips below the horizon.