by E G Manetti
I will not fail. I will not fall. Dwelling on what will come will not alter it.
Maman is waiting. Training will center her. I am the sum of my ancestors.
Helena does not wait for Lilian to enter the courtyard. The Seer rushes her daughter at the steps. The duel of thorn and short sword courses from the two-storey entryway, through the empty reception salon, out into the garden, and back again. Breath coming hard, sweat streaming, Lilian dodges away from the violently swung short sword and around a pillar.
“Enough, Daughter.” Helena lowers her weapon. “Break your fast.”
Pushing her mask to the top of her head, Lilian sheathes her thorn as she gasps, “It is but half the time.”
“It is enough for this day.” Helena stows her sword in the weapons cabinet. “Let us find a meal.”
At Helena’s gesture, Lilian obediently follows her mother out to the kitchen walkway. Casting a critical eye over the herb garden, Lilian is pleased to note the plants are full and flourishing in the dry-season heat due to the carefully constructed irrigation ditches.
As Lilian pauses to survey the precious herbs, a flash of sparkling green flits through the overgrown ornamental trees beyond the kitchen hedge. “Maman, how is it that thing lives? Is Katleen feeding it?”
“Gloribelle eats leaves, berries, and bark,” Helena says, opening the kitchen door. “As a gardener, she is unreliable, but at least a few of the shrubs are getting a form of pruning.”
The ornamental gardens that wrap around the south and eastern sides of the ancient house have long run wild. Even before their ruin, Gariten refused the funds necessary to maintain them, even while he lived in a splendid penthouse in one of the great spires of Pinnacle City on Socraide Prime.
“Gloribelle? She named that thing?” Lilian’s eyes widen in shock.
A month gone, Lilian found Katleen precariously perched on a tree limb as she attempted to rescue a baby tree-wombat mewling in distress. Fairly certain the pup had been abandoned and would not survive a month, Lilian agreed to let the sparkly rodent stay in the garden. Unlike their burrowing kin, tree-wombats do not like herbs.
“Katleen needs a pet,” Helena remarks absently as Lilian follows her into the kitchen.
“Pet! It is a rodent,” Lilian exclaims, pulling juice and cold green tea from the foodkeeper. Even with the exertion of training and the distraction of the sparkling wombat, Lilian’s stomach remains knotted with tension.
“It is difficult to catch, let alone kill.” Helena places hard-cooked eggs and fruit on the table.
Sipping her juice, Lilian thinks about Helena’s words. Lilian knows Katleen is lonely. A pet would do much to ease the young girl’s isolation. Even if they had the funds to feed and care for a cat or dog, which they do not, it would be at risk from those who torment them. Lilian inwardly shudders at the notion of what those who despise them might do to a helpless pet.
Filling her now-empty glass with green tea and selecting a cluster of grapes, Lilian agrees, “Very well, Maman. Katleen does enjoy that which sparkles, and there is no question that when it is in heat, that thing will be a walking pyrotechnic.”
“Lilian, fortify yourself for the day.” Helena frowns at Lilian’s small handful of fruit.
This day. There is only this day.
“Not this day, Maman,” Lilian replies quietly. “It will not settle well.”
»◊«
I am the sum of my ancestors. I am the foundation of my family. The Warrior’s Litany fails to comfort Lilian as she crosses the scarlet threshold.
“What have you for me?” Milord barely glances at her, his fingers busily tapping his techno array.
“Andreas Chiang called upon me yesterday morning, milord,” Lilian announces in carefully composed tones.
Milord ceases tapping. Sitting back in his chair, milord turns with hooded eyes and steepled fingers, his lips a harsh line.
“Tell me,” milord cracks like a whip.
Honor is my blade and shield.
“Katleen and I were about to exit when Andreas came to the door. I closed the door in his face, but he would not leave. Finally, Katleen and I went out to him.” The square shoulders, rigid posture, and closed expression indicate that Lilian is aware that what she imparts is ill.
“Did he touch you?” Milord’s clipped tones are a telltale of his rising anger.
“No, milord.” Honor knows not fear. Calling on her discipline, Lilian is able to keep her tone and breathing even.
“He made an attempt.” Dangerous silkiness enters milord’s voice.
“Yes, milord.” Lilian swallows against a suddenly dry mouth. Honor endures.
“Did you pull your thorn?”
The silken tones slide along Lilian’s spine, leaving chills behind. Milord has guessed the answer.
“No, milord, it was not necessary. Andreas heeded my refusal.” Lilian attempts a justification that she knows is weak. Honor acts as duty commands.
Milord continues to consider her with a stern unwavering gaze. “Continue. I will hear the rest.”
Lilian has been mentally rehearsing her accounting since abandoning Hidaka’s Café. She will not risk increasing milord’s well-justified ire with the half answers that she knows will annoy milord. “Andreas did not understand the graveness of his transgression. He intended no assault or insult. I knew he must have some purpose. Did I not discover it, he would return again until the purpose was served. We sat in the courtyard of Mr. Hidaka’s café for not quite a period. Andreas abhors the institution of indenture, as do all Universalists. He came to offer me a place at the Sanctuary on Mulan.”
“He would violate your bond.”
The enamel of the First and Third Warriors behind milord’s chair is lovely and a great deal easier to face than milord.
“He did not understand it so,” Lilian explains, struggling to keep her tone dispassionate. “He was authorized by the Holy Mother of the Universalist Conclave to purchase it.” Lilian cannot completely suppress a note of pleading. “He truly does not understand.”
At milord’s small sound of impatience, Lilian risks a glance at his face. Milord is very angry. Returning her gaze to Mulan and Socraide, Lilian continues, “I attempted to convince Andreas I was not in distress and would make a very poor Universalist. I was unsuccessful. I attempted to bring him to some understanding of the grave offense he offered milord. I do not believe I succeeded. In the end, I had no recourse but to inform him that should he attempt to visit me again without milord’s permission, I would consider it assault and greet it with force of arms. At which point, Katleen and I departed.”
Milord is silent.
As the moments tick by, milord’s silence gains weight, holding the threat of an impending storm. Unable to bring herself to meet milord’s gaze, Lilian stares unseeing at the enamel of Socraide and Mulan while she awaits milord’s judgement.
“Is Andreas Chiang within the city?” The silky tones deepen, and the chill spreads from Lilian’s spine to her extremities.
“I know not, milord.” Honor knows not fear.
“Have you means to contact him?” Milord’s voice holds an unnerving combination of promise and threat.
“No, milord.” As soon as she has spoken, a thought occurs to Lilian. “If it is milord’s will, Dean Joseph could locate Andreas.”
Lilian may not contact Dean Joseph, her mentor and foster father at Mulan’s University. Milord is not subject to such restrictions.
“Look at me.” The stern tone permits no refusal.
Honor endures. Lilian lowers her gaze to milord’s face. It is set in hard, harsh lines. Milord’s fingers remain steepled, tension and anger in every line of the long frame. A dark tsunami of rage roils in milord’s eyes. Honor acts as duty commands.
Lucius considers the young woman in front of him, intellect and emotion at war. He believes her account. He is enraged at the effrontery of the scholar.
Some of his rage spills over onto his apprentice. She
did not do her duty and drive the man away with her thorn. That the man did not understand his transgression is immaterial. Lilian understands. With a sudden understanding of his own, Lucius realizes that Lilian knew when she left Katleen’s house to meet the scholar what the penalty could be. She is prepared to accept it. Until now, Lilian’s transgressions have been in gray areas, subtle violations of stricture and custom, excused by her lack of training. This is different. Lilian knew better. Protocol, stricture, custom, and his own indication demand he belt her raw for this. That she would protect this man in such a manner further stokes Lucius’ fury. It also makes him hesitate. Why would she take such a risk? There may be more here than is immediately apparent. “You know your duty. Why did you not drive him from you?”
Lilian knows milord’s anger is justified. Should milord choose to take a belt to her, she accepts it. She knew yesterday that by meeting with Andreas, she was failing in her duty to put milord’s will before her own. This was not a transgression of inexperience, but intent. I am the sum of my ancestors.
“Andreas is no coward. It would have taken a good deal of damage to drive him away. He would not have defended himself. Nor would he claim assault afterwards. Had he understood the nature of his transgression, I could have done it. As he did not, I could not. Nor did I wish the scandal that a violent scene on Katleen’s doorstep would generate.” Her reasons are valid, but they are about her will and her wishes. They are not milord’s.
I am the foundation of my family.
It is as Lucius suspected. Lilian’s willingness to risk herself for her friends is well established. While her former lover’s behavior is unconscionable, the scholar stood as her friend when she was in desperate need of one. The fool placed Lilian in an impossible situation, mayhap beyond impossible.
The man sponsored Lilian’s sister into the Universalist school, which otherwise would not have accepted a warrior child. If Lilian harmed the scholar, would the school evict Katleen? It is not a risk Lilian would take. Nor does Lucius blame Lilian for wishing to avoid yet another round of hostile media attention. Lucius can well understand how she might prefer a belting to the alternatives.
“The man’s effrontery defies belief. I will deal with him. You will return at midday. Leave me now.” Lucius bites out. Lucius also knows that should he yield to his anger, he will exact retribution well beyond Lilian’s transgression. By midday, his emotions will be under his control. His correction of his apprentice will be appropriate to her transgression.
“Yes, milord,” Lilian responds, exiting quickly, grateful for the reprieve and riven with anxiety as to milord’s inevitable correction.
»◊«
“Sit, Trevelyan,” Lucius snaps as he angrily paces along the windows.
Something is amiss. Trevelyan obediently drops into a chair at the conference table. We began as cosmic dust.
Lucius turns from the windows, his face set in the cruel lines Trevelyan recognizes from their pirate-hunting days. “Yesterday, Andreas Chiang dared to call on Lilian.”
We are formed of stellar glitter. Trevelyan is too stunned to speak. What could Andreas have been thinking?
“Lilian was able to keep him from the house and defend against an embrace.” Lucius’ voice is cold with rage. “He proposed to carry her to the Sanctuary on Mulan.”
Known to her? Trevelyan recalls Lucius’ rainy-season instruction to investigate Lilian’s acquaintanceship with the Universalist scholar. They were lovers. Andreas, you fool.
“By Lilian’s account, he does not comprehend the nature of his transgressions or the danger in which he placed her,” Lucius continues, disbelief laced with rage.
“What is Monsignor’s will of me?” Trevelyan is in turmoil. Should Lucius desire Andreas’ head, Trevelyan may not be able to obey. Andreas is not only Trevelyan’s friend but a brother Universalist. To slay him would violate Trevelyan’s most deeply held sense of justice and honor. When Lucius accepted Trevelyan’s loyalty, he also accepted that it was limited by Trevelyan’s Universalist sense of honor. Neither Lucius nor Trevelyan could have imagined this situation. The stellar is within and without. We are one.
“You know this man. Is it possible he truly does not understand the nature of his offense?” The dangerously silky tones turn the question into a threat.
We are ephemeral and eternal. Monsignor is seeking information, not blood. Balance may be preserved. We end as we began and begin again. “Aye, Monsignor, it is quite likely. Andreas has lived his life on Artesia. His rare excursions have been scholarly expeditions to explore ruins. He is accomplished at believing what he wishes and ignoring anything that contradicts his opinion.”
That girl will take a beating for your arrogance, you selfish crevasse-wallower.
“What would have transpired had Lilian attempted to drive him off by force of arms?”
“It is difficult to predict for certain, Monsignor.” Trevelyan takes heart that Lucius is probing Lilian’s account. Recalling the times when Lilian has defended herself, Trevelyan is compelled to admit, “Andreas is no coward. It would have taken more than a torn ear or stung buttocks to drive him off were he convinced of the rightness of his purpose.” Whatever else, Trevelyan has never had cause to question Andreas’ faith. “Nor would he have defended himself.”
Rimon condemn the scholar! Lucius’ suspicion is confirmed. The scholar put Lilian in an impossible position. And now Lucius. He cannot let Lilian’s transgression go unanswered. Half the district will have noted it. There is something he can do about the gossip, though.
Turning to face the windows, Lucius commands, “You are to confirm Lilian’s account of events. That at mid-morning the scholar attempted to enter her sister’s house. That he was left standing for some minutes on the steps before Lilian and Katleen went out to him. With Katleen between them, they walked to Hidaka’s Café where they sat for the balance of a period before Lilian and Katleen left him. That nothing improper was observed.”
“Does the monsignor disbelieve Mistress Lilian?” Trevelyan offers cautiously.
“I believe every word. Nonetheless, you will confirm it.”
The confirmation is for Lilian’s sake. Lilian’s movements are closely followed in the neighborhood. The confirmation will remind the neighbors that Lucius monitors Lilian and cement the truth of events before they can be twisted by rumor and innuendo.
At Trevelyan’s “yes, monsignor,” Lucius continues, “You will locate Andreas Chiang. You will make him comprehend the nature of his transgressions. You will make certain that he understands that should he attempt to corrupt my apprentice again—nay. Should he attempt to contact her or visit her, I will take his manhood and then his life.”
»◊«
Nostalgia tugs at Trevelyan as he strolls through the serene gardens and pavilions of the Universal Way Academy in the Garden Center. It has been a decade since he was last in a Universalist compound. He doubts the Academy master scholar would have been so welcoming if he knew the history or mission of Lucius Mercio’s emissary. Turning a corner, Trevelyan finds the private garden and his quarry, who is immersed in the physical challenge of the Balance Way.
“Andreas.”
At the one-word greeting, the scholar stumbles gracelessly out of the movements. Recovering, he stands and turns to the voice he has not heard in ten years.
“Greetings, brother, I have been expecting you.” Andreas settles on a nearby bench, gesturing for Trevelyan to take the one opposite. His serene expression yields nothing of his thoughts as he examines Trevelyan, noting the changes that age and life among the warriors have wrought. The multiple breaks to his nose, the coldness in the eyes that were once so merry, and the menace in a stance that was once a model of serenity.
Once Trevelyan is seated, Andreas continues, “I thought Lucius Mercio would send you. I have known for a while you are in his service. What is his threat? My life? My masculinity? You know it matters naught. I will see Lilian rescued regardless of personal price.�
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“You are grown even more arrogant, Andreas. Lilian was doing very well rescuing herself until you interfered.” Trevelyan also notices changes. The exuberant curiosity has hardened to ambition. The confidence has yielded to rigid convention. Andreas is convinced of his righteousness, and he has never lacked for physical courage.
“Lilian should not need to rescue herself. She should not be in this debased situation at all,” Andreas retorts. “I would have delivered her to the Sanctuary over a year ago. Do you not realize Lilian is brilliant? A three-thousand-year-old artifact, a millennium older than the next oldest—she found it on her first dig.”
Andreas’ voice rises with each word. “Lilian can see patterns in history where none should be. Instead, she is the plaything of a barbarian.”
“You are as selfish as you ever were. You do not seek Lilian’s best interest, but your own,” Trevelyan snaps. “Three thousand years, Andreas? That must have gathered you a great deal of prestige. Monsignor, at least, is honest in his motives. He bought Lilian because he has a use for her.”
“You defend the exploitation of a twenty-five-year-old?” Andreas is truly appalled. For all his selfishness, Andreas is a devout man and adheres to the view that a woman who is not free to say no is misused. “Have you truly fallen so far from the Universal Way?”
“Lilian sealed that contract after passing her twenty-fourth year. Knowing her as I do, she knew exactly the nature of the man to whom she sold herself. By your own admission, she owned other choices. She does not consider it duress.”
There is a shifting in Andreas’ face and posture that confirms Trevelyan has hit his mark. Eyes narrowed, Trevelyan accuses, “She has so informed you, and not only yesterday I think, but when she made the choice.”
At Andreas’ nod of confirmation, Trevelyan continues, “Understand you this, her forbearance yesterday is likely to get her beaten.”