by E G Manetti
There will be no training this day. The courtyard is littered with overflowing containers. I will not fail.
Completing the movement, Lilian falls to her knees and then touches her forehead to the tiled floor, arms outstretched. Adelaide.
Lilian has revealed to milord far more than she ever intended. More than even Dean Joseph knows. Milord has proven he wills her survival. He has been forbearing about her transgressions. Lilian knows she should trust milord. And yet she fears. Even after milord’s acceptance of last night’s revelations, Lilian fears. When milord knows all, will he continue to find her worthy of protection? Adelaide.
Lilian’s deity is silent. There is no pattern, nothing to aid Lilian in navigating her duty to the complex and compelling man who owns her bond. Lilian has sworn her oath to milord, her fears are immaterial. She must answer without reservation.
I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian rises to empty the rain containers.
»◊«
Adelaide’s Grace. Lilian is delighted to find Douglas seated with Chrys in the Mercium lab. As much as Lilian wished to know how Douglas fared, she dared not enter the Grey Spear section of Serengeti to seek him out. Not surprisingly, Douglas is leaning forward in his chair, arms resting on his knees.
“Douglas, how goes it with you?” Lilian approaches the young man, searching for signs of distress.
Douglas’ searching glance shows no sign of distress as he gives Lilian the same careful scrutiny he received. The young woman is unusually pale. Her eyes are bruised from fatigue and strain. “How is it, Lilian, that I am the one caned and you are the one who looks as if she has been battling the Servants of Anarchy?”
“I had difficulty sleeping this past night. It is naught. Pray tell, Douglas, why did you do it? You must have known the penalty.” As she speaks, Lilian pulls up a chair.
Douglas’ tale is swift. “It was hit him or let him complete his assault on Mistress Heather. She is a first-year media management associate. She is sweet, a little shy. Her people are from the Seventh System’s educational elite. Master Martin is of the opinion that she should be honored by a warrior’s interest.”
“The Seventh System is hardly a backwater,” Chrys notes, “but it would not prepare a sheltered woman for the dangerous intrigues of the Cartel.”
“Mistress Heather would be unwilling to risk such a prestigious position,” Lilian nods.
None voice what they all know. With limited family connections and little experience, the new associate is exactly the type to attract a predator. If charged, Martin will claim a misunderstanding or enticement. Without powerful evidence, Heather would add to her troubles rather than relieve them.
“I have no knowledge of how they ended up together in the secluded chamber,” Douglas says. “Only that Mistress Heather clearly wished to leave.”
The Cartel’s monitors can be defeated by someone who has taken the time to study the possibilities. Careful positioning of bodies and sly use of comment can make it difficult to determine the truth. All three apprentices are well aware that Martin has had a great deal of practice at finessing the monitors.
“I chose not to give Master Martin the opportunity to order me from the chamber. So I struck him. Truly, it was worth it,” Douglas concludes.
“Why not break his jaw instead of his nose?” Chrys asks. “It would hurt more, take longer to heal, and the penalty would have been the same.”
“Every time I see the bruises, it eases my discomfort,” Douglas grins. “Truly, for the price I paid, I wished to mar his pretty face. Nor can he hide that an apprentice felled the great warrior.”
Douglas’ deeply satisfied chuckle brings laughter to Chrys. Lilian is not ready to release her concern. “Douglas, is Seigneur Aristides very displeased?”
“He is displeased that my pugilistic skills are so poor that I did not break Master Martin’s nose in several places.” Chagrin replaces his grin as Douglas admits, “The nose will heal straight. Multiple breaks, and it would not have. Once I am released from restricted duty, Seigneur has arranged additional martial training to correct my deficiencies.”
»◊«
Crossing the scarlet threshold with the midday chimes, Lilian locates milord, jacket discarded, seated on the couch, and riveted to the scrolling contents of the reviewer.
“You may sit,” milord voices quietly, eyes never leaving the reviewer.
After carefully placing her jacket and slate bag on a side table, Lilian joins milord and examines the media reports. There will be an economic downtrend through the green season that will depress both Vistrite and Mercium sales. Collecting her slate, Lilian makes a quick note to review the forecasts for Desperation as well as the overall Vistrite reserves.
“Reducing production levels, Lilian?” Milord shifts his attention to Lilian.
“Mayhap, milord.” With a final tap, Lilian releases her slate and turns to milord. “I must review the forecasts and counsel with the other conservators.”
Lucius is pleased that some of the strain has left Lilian’s face and that she is regaining focus. The signs of a sleepless night remain evident.
As soon as she finishes her notes and stows her slate, Lucius pulls Lilian into his arms for a testing kiss. Willingness and compliance are evident, eagerness is lacking.
It is too soon.
Releasing her from his kiss, Lucius pulls Lilian across his lap, sideways on the couch, her back to the armrest. He can both see and touch her in this position. Running a hand along hip, thigh, and knee, Lucius begins his interrogation. “Whom else have you told?”
This day. Lacking clear guidance from her deity and knowing milord will not tolerate half answers, Lilian steels herself. Honor knows not fear. “No one, milord. I have not spoken of Gariten’s abuse since that time.”
“Why were you sent away? You were young for it, and Gariten had been removed from the system.”
Apprentices are commonly sent from home, or even their home systems, at the age of sixteen. Children of the warrior elite, however, are rarely sent from their homes or systems before eighteen.
“It was my mother’s visions. She was overwrought, convinced that I was in danger from pirates.”
“Pirates?” Lucius executes a quick mental calculation. “That would have been months before the first media reports.”
“Yes, milord,” Lilian nods. “It was nearly a year before the pirates were recognized as a threat to the Order of the Twelve Systems.”
Lilian readily meets milord’s eyes. There is naught to be hidden in this. “I know not how Maman discerned the threat so early on. I do not believe I was in danger from pirates. My mother may be disordered in her wits, yet she remains clever. I understood when I beheld Mulan’s Temple.”
Exceptional security protects the repository of the last vestiges of the Ancients’ wisdom plus all that has been created since the Anarchy. Lucius reassuringly strokes Lilian’s leg. “The Seer placed you within a fortress to ensure that Gariten could not breach the sanctuary restraint.”
“As milord voices,” Lilian nods. “Anywhere else, armed guards would have been needed to keep him from taking me. It would have called undesirable scrutiny to his enterprises. We know the result when such scrutiny finally occurred.”
Ruin. Financial and societal destruction for Lilian, her mother, and her sister. It meant death for Remus Gariten. It may yet mean Lilian’s death.
The hand that was stroking Lilian’s leg rests on one hip. The other is gently tracing her collarbone and shoulder. Lucius can feel the tension in Lilian’s body. Her voice is even, her gaze steady. She can tolerate more. “Is that when you determined that Gariten needed to die?”
Leaning into the hand holding her hip, Lilian confesses, “No, milord. I was frightened and confused and very angry. I daydreamed about killing him, but resolve had not yet formed.”
The command in milord’s gaze is unmistakable. “It was two years later. Gariten sent an agent to take Katleen when she went to be dedic
ated to Sinead. Maman had been seeing pirates for sevendays prior. By then, it was a credible threat. Security was tight throughout the Warriors’ Ring. The agent did not get far with my sister.”
Meeting milord’s intent gaze, Lilian asks, “Does it surprise milord to learn that the agent suffered an accident while incarcerated? Before aught could be learned?”
At Lucius’ headshake, Lilian finishes, “The pirates took the blame. We knew it was Gariten.”
“You were barely seventeen. You planned this for seven years.” Lucius is impressed by both her youthful resolve and her patient planning.
“Eight now, milord.” Lilian’s gaze is steady and unblinking, her message unmistakable.
“You had what you required, should it have been necessary,” Lucius approves.
“Yes, milord, should Gariten have continued to live, it would not have been for long.” At milord’s encouraging shake of her knee, Lilian expands, “Gariten’s associates included a number of black raiders. By now, one of those raiders would have believed Gariten a threat. Once the raider moved against Gariten, I planned to erase any trails to his black dealings that his associates had not. He would have been gone, and much of the evidence against him. What little was left could have been cleared away with fines and bribes.”
“You would not have done it yourself?” Lucius wonders. Lilian was willing to commit patricide at Gariten’s execution.
“No, milord. I could not form a plan that guaranteed I would not be caught. I had to release the notion if I were to achieve the desired end.” Lilian does not pretend that she would have hesitated to kill her sire if it would have served her purpose.
“You decided an assassin was too risky?” Lucius pursues. Hired murder often creates the threat of blackmail.
“Not initially, milord,” Lilian admits. “It was when I understood that Gariten was not simply dangerous, but a criminal that I abandoned the notion. I could not risk the murder being uncovered and the subsequent investigation into Gariten’s affairs. Black raiders are notoriously adept at covering their tracks. His associates would have seen it done and severed their ties to his affairs. There would have been no direct connection to me.”
Lilian’s plan was clever and devious, and it would have worked.
“What thinks Dean Joseph of all this?” Lucius asks with careful dispassion. The scholar successfully hid all this during Lilian’s protégé negotiations and subsequent protocol review.
“Dean Joseph knows naught, milord,” Lilian insists, her form tensing. “I have voiced this only to milord.”
“How so?” Lucius is well aware of the affection between Joseph and Lilian. He would have expected her to confide in her foster father.
“At first, I could not.” Lilian’s eyes are on her knotted fingers. “When Dean Joseph took me into his care, I could not speak of it—the words would not form. Then I did not wish to speak of it. Or think it. Later, when I learned of Gariten’s crimes, I did not wish to implicate the dean with knowledge of Gariten’s crimes or my plans for patricide.”
Socraide’s Sword! Silence. For a decade, Lilian has used silence as a shield. Burying her hurts, her fears, and her dangerous secrets behind a wall of reserve. No wonder it is so difficult to get her to speak. The practice is now so deeply ingrained it is instinctual. There is a great deal more Lucius intends to learn about his apprentice’s history. Too many unanswered questions remain. Not today. Lilian’s knotted fingers are white. Lucius has pushed her as far as she can tolerate.
“Enough for now. We will discuss this further, but enough for now.” Shifting, Lucius pulls Lilian to him for another testing kiss. No eagerness as yet, but her tension eases at his embrace.
“You may leave me.”
“My thanks, milord.”
19. Missteps and Misdemeanors
The Twelve Systems’ Governing Protocols classify crimes as misdemeanors, criminal acts, or acts of anarchy. Misdemeanors are mild transgressions such as the violation of transit strictures, petty theft, minor vandalism, or non-lethal brawls, which are penalized by fines, corporal punishment, or a combination of both. Criminal acts are more serious transgressions against persons or property, such as assault, kidnapping, or major thefts. Penalized by fines, compelled labor, or both, most gray commerce and black commerce activities fall into this category.
Acts of anarchy are the most heinous of crimes, such as rape, murder, piracy, or Betrayal of Order. Betrayal of Order is the most serious offense in the Twelve Systems, reflecting the criminal’s deep commitment to anarchy. A Betrayal of Order indictment requires proof that the accused has either plotted treason against the Governing Council or routinely and shamelessly committed criminal acts, acts of anarchy, or a combination of both. The penalties for acts of anarchy can be any combination of forfeiture of property and status, corporal punishment, compelled labor, or execution by the Final Draught. ~excerpt from Modern Governance, an instructional text.
Sevenday 73, Day 2
Five Warriors take the rains! For the past three sevendays, the paths and tracks in the Garden Center and along the river have been so mired that traction is impossible. Lilian has been forced to rely on the Serengeti auto-racers to maintain her training and compelled to accept whatever allotments her low rank can command. This morning’s auto-racer training not only tired her legs, it kept her from a morning match with Maman, a warm-up for Trevelyan’s. After three bouts with the long sword in forty minutes, Lilian is not certain she can lift her thorn, let alone the long sword. A theory Seigneur Trevelyan is about to test.
“Pick up your thorn, girl. I will know how you fare when you lack reserves.” With no more warning Trevelyan launches himself at Lilian, swinging hard with the training long sword.
Fifteen years of unrelenting discipline show their value as Lilian’s trembling muscles respond to her mental command and fall into well-worn paths. Nine minutes later, the time runs out before Seigneur Trevelyan can disarm her. Close inspection shows a mark that would have hamstrung Lilian’s trainer had the blade not been chalk.
Without the least shame, Lilian does not even attempt to move for a few minutes. She sits with her back against the training chamber wall, knees up as she fights for breath, sweat cooling on her skin.
Dropping down next to her, Trevelyan gives Lilian his free-trader’s grin. “You might do. How many miles on the auto-racer?”
“Three, Seigneur. Medium hills,” Lilian gasps.
Trevelyan is pleased by the answer. “You will do, girl. You will do.”
“My thanks, Seigneur.”
»◊«
Snatching a water vial from the rack, Lilian hastens into the changing chamber, eager to shower and return to her worksite. Within the chamber, Rebecca and Clarice are deep in conversation as they shift to training garb.
“Self-slaughter.” Clarice shakes her head sadly. “It is difficult to imagine.”
Self-slaughter? Lilian halts to join her friends. Suicide is not taboo in the Twelve Systems, but it is rare. “Self-slaughter? What say you?”
“Lilian, haven’t you heard?” Rebecca looks up sharply.
“Heard?” Lilian questions. “About what? Who has died?”
“It’s Gil,” Rebecca announces baldly, knowing no way to soften the facts. “Early this morning.”
“Self-slaughter?” Lilian echoes in consternation. “Gil?”
It is not unusual for an apprentice to self-slaughter. There is a significant population within Serengeti and the Twelve Systems that is disappointed that Lilian was not driven to self-slaughter in her first year. After the first year of apprenticeship, the likelihood of such an act diminishes to almost none. For one such as Gil, who has achieved freedom and associate status, it is shocking.
“There’s no question,” Rebecca states. “It’s impossible to accidently sever one’s carotid artery.”
In the early bells, Gil’s body was found in his chamber in the Associates’ Quarters, where Rebecca lodges. One of the deceased’s friends
, noting Gil’s absence at the morning meal, had gone seeking him.
“Have you any notion as to his cause?” Lilian questions softly. She has never considered self-slaughter. Even without Maman and Katleen, it would not have occurred to her.
“Even though we resided in the quarters, I knew him little. You had more contact with Gil than I did.” Rebecca pulls on her training boots.
“There will be an inquiry,” Clarice adds. “I doubt it will take long.”
“Of course,” Lilian agrees. “I imagine that Gil’s affairs are well ordered.”
Upon completion of the inquiry, Gil’s Cartel death benefits, personal possessions, and the contents of his accounts will be released to his designated beneficiaries.
“I am sure they are,” Clarice agrees. “Everything would have been updated or verified with the new year and his associate’s contract. Unless there is evidence of foul play, it should be done by next First Day.”
“Foul play?” Lilian echoes.
“Unlikely,” Rebecca interjects. “Gil was no one of importance, and he had naught of value.”
As Lilian opens her mouth in challenge, Rebecca leans in conspiratorially, “He was a Blooded Dagger associate, and Seigneur Trevelyan is not concerned. The wound review must have already confirmed self-slaughter.”
»◊«
Alerts from Chrys, Douglas, and Tabitha confirm Gil’s demise. There is a brief and official announcement from Associate Master Straus that offers no details. There is a slightly longer alert from Seigneur Nemilis’ executive servitor passing some of Gil’s tasks to Lilian and Douglas and postponing others.
More shocked than grieved by the death of a man she barely knew, Lilian is far more concerned with completing her tasks before midday. Shrugging off the short-term increase in her workload, Lilian consumes two protein bars and confirms that Desperation will not need to reduce production. Seventh System demand is running counter to the economic downtrend. A brief communication with Chrys confirms that all is in order for the increased production of Mercium. Demand has not abated with the slowing economy, indicating greater need than originally forecasted. All in all, the news is good. Milord should be pleased.