Transgressions

by E G Manetti

  I will not fail.

  Of her friends, Douglas cannot offer aid in conflict with his monsignor’s will. Clarice would appeal to Seigneur Herman, but the seigneur is already present, and Lilian knows the Legalistics Seigneur to be both skilled and just to the extent Cartel politics permit. Tabitha would aid Lilian but has not the rank to do so.

  This is very ill.

  “Mistress Lilian,” Straus calls all to attention. “You are indicted for illicit contact with the recently deceased Master Gil. What say you?”

  Illicit contact. For an apprentice, that can mean anything from an accidental brush of hands to carnal knowledge. It matters not. Lilian is completely confounded by the charge. Gil? He barely acknowledged her except when compelled by their assignments.

  “I deny it,” Lilian says. She is not so naïve as to believe it a misunderstanding. She has walked in fear of the Grey Spear Preeminence’s extreme animosity since she discovered it a year gone. She can do naught but wait for the trap to unfold.

  “Mistress Lilian,” Damocles smiles cruelly, “do you recognize this?”

  The evidence pouch proffered by Damocles holds what appears to be a snarl of twine. Lilian begins to shake her head in negation and then pauses. She steps closer and the object takes on a recognizable form. Nape ties.

  Lilian’s nape ties. Not the linen and steel of her regular attire. The lizard-skin-and-platinum ties were her finest and reserved for shrine rites and special occasions. It has been almost a year since they were lost in milord’s office the day Seigneur Marco announced the formation of Bright Star.

  Lilian reported the loss to Mistress Marieth, hoping they would be discovered by the cleaning staff. None admitted finding the ties. Lilian resigned herself to the reality that the ties had been swept out with the trash. And now Damocles has them. Or ones like them.

  On that hopeful thought, Lilian speaks, “Nape ties from the finest shrine boutique at Mulan’s Temple. I once owned a similar set.”

  “A similar set?” Sebastian’s tone holds sly certainty. “This exact set, was it not?”

  “I cannot say, Monsignor,” Lilian equivocates, knowing it is likely futile. “Mine were lost a year gone.”

  “Lost?” Sebastian snarls. “Not lost. Yielded to Master Gil during passion. Do not attempt to deceive us. Your hair was entwined with the attendant DNA.”

  “If Monsignor pleases, it is not so,” Lilian insists. “I reported the ties lost to Mistress Marieth. She will confirm it.”

  “Mistress Marieth?” Damocles sneers. “What interest would she have in this?”

  “The ties were misplaced within Monsignor Lucius’ office,” Lilian explains. She does not violate privilege. All the Twelve Systems knows how Lilian spends midday. Seigneur Marco, Master Nickolas, and a dozen others witnessed Lilian’s loosely arranged tresses after that particular midday.

  “And yet somehow they found their way into Master Gil’s chamber in the Associates’ Quarters?” Sebastian mocks. “Mistress Lilian, you cannot expect us to believe such a ridiculous tale.”

  “Mistress Lilian, can you offer any other witness to confirm your account?” Hadrian asks.

  “Master Nickolas will recall the Bright Star announcement when my hair was loose,” Lilian replies, relieved to have been asked. Nickolas’ hostility and disdain at the time make Lilian certain he noted her disarray and its likely cause.

  “Insufficient,” Sebastian gloats. “Nickolas is not available. Apprentice testimony is not valid. We have the ties, which Mistress Lilian admits are hers. We know they were in Master Gil’s possession. She can provide no credible evidence or testimony to counter the indictment. Damocles, what is the protocol?”

  “Illicit contact demands a minimum Cartel sentence of ten lashes,” Damocles asserts. “It is likely they were guilty of a great deal more, but that determination requires the judgement of Monsignor Lucius.”

  “I must challenge that conclusion,” Herman speaks. At Sebastian’s glower, Herman adds in a mollifying tone, “Although Mistress Lilian’s testimony holds no value, Mistress Marieth’s does. With no compelling evidence other than the dead man’s possession of the nape ties, there is cause to hold this until the morrow, when Mistress Marieth returns to the Cartel. Seigneur Hadrian, do you concur?”

  “I do,” Hadrian avows. “Master Nickolas is meticulous in his adherence to detail. He may also add evidence when he returns on Sixth Day. I find no cause for haste.”

  “Seigneurs, there is other evidence,” Sebastian croons. “Master Gil condemns the doxy. Damocles, if you please?”

  “As you will, Monsignor.” Damocles smiles at his lord. When his attention turns to Lilian, it hardens. “The nape ties were discovered with this handwritten note.”

  Lilian’s stomach lurches. This day. Handwritten missives are rare. They are reserved for the most intimate of communications. Among the commoners, the ability to execute a handwritten note is almost non-existent. It is a skill Gil would have acquired to enhance his application to Serengeti.

  The evidence pouch holds a small sheet of paper. Expression blank, Master Straus receives it from Damocles and reads it into the record. “ ‘I despise myself for my meager character, as I know my dearest desire does. I long unceasingly for her passion, her touch. I cannot bear its loss. Life serves no purpose with her face turned from me. I am unworthy. It is no failing but my own.’ ”

  Honor endures. As Straus reads the note into the record, Lilian’s concern turns to fear. There is no question that Gil’s final testament is a despairing acknowledgement of failed love.

  “There is naught in that testament that names Mistress Lilian,” Hadrian notes.

  Lilian’s fear retreats. Seigneur Hadrian need not believe in Lilian’s innocence. He will not allow milord and Blooded Dagger to be humbled by Grey Spear if he can prevent it.

  “It is not necessary that Mistress Lilian be named,” Damocles sneers. “The nape ties were discovered with the testament. There can be only one conclusion.”

  “The whore betrayed her bond,” Sebastian declaims. “Only Monsignor Lucius can extract the full penalty. The Cartel’s protocol demands swift administration of the minimum penalty for illicit contact.”

  Seigneur Hadrian cannot dispute Cartel protocol. Lilian’s fear comes flooding back and forms a solid, frigid ball hindering her ability to draw air.

  “Monsignor Sebastian is correct,” Herman yields reluctantly. “However, the stricture for timely judgement does permit leeway. We can, with the unanimous consent of the judgement, postpone execution for three days to allow for further testimony. I am in favor of postponement.”

  The frigid ball of fear in Lilian’s middle shrinks at Seigneur Herman’s defense.

  “I am in favor,” Hadrian is quick to respond.

  “I am not,” Sebastian contradicts. “The Cartel will enforce the minimal penalty.”

  With a broad and anticipatory smile, Sebastian pronounces, “At first bell after midday, the doxy shall be scourged before the Cartel.”

  This day. This day. Sebastian Mehta vowed to see Lilian caned. He has surpassed his commitment.

  Honor acts as duty commands. Lilian concentrates on containing the cold, clammy knot of fear that is threatening to expand from her center and envelop her. Lilian cannot fathom how the nape ties found their way to Gil. It matters not. Even with Mistress Marieth’s testimony, the evidence is damning. Recall of milord’s rage at Damien St. Gervais’ false accusation and Andreas’ advances freezes Lilian’s blood. More horrifying than her impending sentence is the possibility that milord will be convinced that Lilian has been wayward and will cast her off to face the Final Draught.

  »◊«

  “Is there naught to be done?” Clarice drops to her knees before Herman, hoping her humility will alleviate her presumption in questioning the judgement. Clarice is almost certain that her lord will not beat her for the infraction. “I am certain that further investigation will vindicate Lilian.”

  “Certa
in, Clarice?” Herman questions, clasping Clarice’s jaw and turning her face to his examination. Certainty in an apprentice is effrontery. Among those in Legalistics, it is never invoked. Nothing in protocol or stricture is ever certain. The almond-shaped black eyes hold desperation. The delicate features are tense with emotion, and the fragile form with its honeyed skin trembles slightly. It is an appeal that could move the hardest heart.

  “I intend no defiance, milord,” Clarice hastens. “It is unimaginable that Lilian would betray Monsignor Lucius. She will not even voice the monsignor’s mood without Monsignor Lucius’ instruction. Even were I mistaken in Lilian’s character, I cannot imagine how she could have discovered the bells. She does naught but work, train, and tend to her sister.”

  “She does not participate in Seventh Day amusements?” Herman is intrigued. He was an unwilling participant in the hasty judgement and dislikes having Iron Hammer drawn into the rivalry between Grey Spear and Blooded Dagger. It never occurred to him the tainted woman might not be guilty.

  “No, milord,” Clarice avows. “Nor Settlement Day leisure. I viewed the house but once. It is large, and they have no servants.”

  And the house will be as closely monitored as Lilian’s worksite, Herman thinks. A liaison powerful enough to drive Gil to self-slaughter would have been an extended affair. It is impossible that such illicit action would have occurred under Lucius Mercio’s nose. He voices, “Mistress Lilian will not die from a scourging. If she is later vindicated, her tally will be restored and the blood price for the wrongful correction added. Beyond that, naught can be done.”

  »◊«

  “All you know. All you suspect,” Aristides demands of his apprentice.

  “It is impossible, milord.” Douglas exhales in relief that his carefully laid trail of hints has led to this interrogation. On the far side of the blade-metal expanse of Aristides’ desk, the Media Management Seigneur cocks his head at Douglas’ extreme claim.

  Swallowing, Douglas carefully schools his face to a correctly neutral expression and evens his tone. “Mistress Lilian honors Serengeti’s Preeminence as I honor milord. Milord is aware that I have been unable to breach Blooded Dagger privilege.”

  A hint of frustration tightens Aristides’ lips at the reminder of that failure. Despite many temptations, Lilian has not breached privilege. It has proven annoying to those who expected the tainted woman to be readily corrupted.

  Ignoring the signs of his seigneur’s displeasure, Douglas continues, “Milord is aware of Monsignor Sebastian’s anger at Mistress Tabitha’s change of house and his accusation against Lilian.”

  At Aristides’ nod, Douglas offers, “Lilian has been expecting retribution.”

  As a calculating thought passes behind Aristides’ eyes, Douglas hastens, “Nay, milord. I have no reason to believe Lilian complicit in Tabitha’s shift in allegiance. Seigneur Trevelyan is formidable.”

  With his last sentence, Douglas collects his wits. He almost voiced ‘fearsome.’ As a matter of honor, Grey Spear does not admit to fear of Blooded Dagger. Douglas carefully reminds his lord, “It is the same as the Bright Star shares intrigue. Lilian is the weakest of Blooded Dagger. The easiest target.”

  Aristides frowns at the reminder of that dishonorable interlude when, after Grey Spear failed in the Bright Star intrigue, Martin extracted Grey Spear vengeance by beating Lilian insensible in the guise of a training challenge. Rising, Aristides paces to the window. He finds it far easier to contain his passion for Douglas and resist the young man’s allure if he cannot see him. Aristides will not permit his shameful affection for his apprentice to cloud his judgement.

  Gazing at the cityscape, Aristides succeeds in separating intellect and emotion. Sebastian Mehta is becoming increasingly erratic. Sending Martin to beat Lucius’ apprentice was a poorly conceived play and lacking in honor. It also cemented Aristides’ developing interest in Lucius’ odd choice of apprentice. Now, Aristides is intrigued by Douglas’ certainty. Turning back to Douglas, Aristides demands, “There is more. Voice it. All you know. All you suspect.”

  Carefully hiding his relief at his seigneur’s command, Douglas voices his cartel-rocking suspicion. “I did not know Master Gil well. None of us did. I believe, although I have no evidence, that Gil was enamored of Seigneur Nemilis.”

  At Douglas’ words, Aristides is rendered speechless. If true, it means that Gil self-slaughtered in shame over his taboo affection for his seigneur and not passion for Lilian. It is a far greater Blooded Dagger scandal than a wayward apprentice. Although such a lack of warrior competence in a Blooded Dagger department head is not a crime, the scandal would compromise Lucius Mercio’s bargaining power within the Cartel, Bright Star, and Mercium. “What say you? The Blooded Dagger Media Management Seigneur? Nemilis was involved in Gil’s self-slaughter and hid the evidence with Lilian’s indictment?”

  “No, milord,” Douglas hastens. “Gil kept his shame well hidden. I cannot imagine his seigneur knew of it. Only that it is impossible he was enamored of Lilian.”

  Turning from Douglas, Aristides returns to the windows and considers the sodden expanse of Crevasse City. “How, Douglas? How did you arrive at this suspicion? Why would you know this and not others?”

  “It is difficult to express.” Douglas turns in place to face Aristides. “Gil was months free of his bond but sought no partners. In fact, within the quarters, he refused several advances.”

  “A little unusual,” Aristides nods. It is more common for newly freed apprentices to seek out new sexual partners. Often, other newly freed apprentices for whom they have harbored feelings that could not be expressed. “Nonetheless, abstinence is hardly evidence of an unnatural attachment to his seigneur.”

  “There was also Gil’s behavior when Seigneur Nemilis was present,” Douglas continues, carefully choosing his words. “He was completely focused on the seigneur’s every gesture, and he constantly sought a position on her left flank.”

  “A conditioned response,” Aristides comments. “Did Seigneur Nemilis not correct him?”

  “No, milord,” Douglas shrugs slightly. “At least, not when I was present.”

  “Irresponsible of Nemilis,” Aristides murmurs softly, more to himself than Douglas. “Still, it is very little on which to base such a suspicion.”

  “There is, that is,” Douglas struggles for words. The last thing he wishes Aristides to suspect is that Douglas was sensitive to Gil’s lapse because Douglas harbors an unseemly affection for Seigneur Aristides. “When the seigneur would depart after a conference, Gil would become morose. He often insisted on a respite before resuming our tasks.”

  “Needing to gather his emotions or give himself release?” Aristides questions.

  “Some of both,” Douglas nods. “I am certain on at least one occasion it was the second.”

  Sinead’s Spite. This is ill. Aristides turns back to the windows and ponders the sodden city. It is likely that Douglas has the right of it, and Gil self-slaughtered over his passion for his former seigneur. Lilian would have naught to do with it. The only way her nape ties could have been introduced was through Damocles’ investigation. For what purpose? This will only enrage Lucius and Blooded Dagger. Sebastian vowed to see Lilian punished for Tabitha’s defection to Blooded Dagger. Would he go so far? Corrupt Serengeti justice? Risk forfeiting his position if this is discovered by Blooded Dagger? As it almost certainly will be. Trevelyan is no fool.

  Unless? Is it possible? Five Warriors take it! What if Damocles and Sebastian have evidence of Gil’s unnatural attachment to the Blooded Dagger seigneur? They could hold that over Lucius to protect themselves when this is discovered.

  Demon shit! It is uncommon, but not unheard of, for an apprentice to form an unnatural attachment to his seigneur. For the warrior to be oblivious is dereliction of duty. To have that dereliction become public knowledge undermines the foundation of order, the belief that those of warrior genetics adhere to warrior honor in the tradition of the Five Warrio
rs. The scandal could seriously weaken Blooded Dagger prestige and that of Lucius Mercio. If Sebastian controls such a Blooded Dagger–rocking scandal, he can wrest considerable advantage in Bright Star or Mercium to keep it quiet.

  The implications are appalling. If Sebastian has sacrificed a powerful commerce advantage to forward a vendetta against the lowest of associates, it could cost him the preeminence. Using the nape ties to falsely indict Lilian is a crime against the Cartel that will damage Grey Spear and lose Sebastian the preeminence.

  For half a decade, Aristides has expended considerable skill and energy manipulating Sebastian’s growing volatility, determined to protect both the Grey Spear Cartouche and Aristides’ own fortune. Now, Douglas has confirmed Aristides’ worst fears. Sebastian has lost all semblance of commerce judgement. He is beyond salvation. However this plays out, the knowledge of Gil’s attachment to his seigneur is an important bargaining chip. Turning back to his silent apprentice, Aristides commands, “Speak of this to no other. It is in the best interests of Grey Spear if Gil’s unnatural affection remains hidden from Blooded Dagger.”

  “As milord wills.”

  Douglas’ carefully correct response does not mislead Aristides. Aristides gently grips Douglas’ chin. “Your friend will not die from a Cartel scourging. Her tally can withstand the deduction. Her bond proof is not endangered. Are you correct about her innocence, Monsignor Lucius will right all by First Day.”

  »◊«

  “Peace, Mistress, plague me no further,” Malcon snarls at Tabitha. “I have done all I can. I cannot forward the sun.”

  As midday chimes in Crevasse City, it is barely dawn at Lucius’ citrus plantation on the Southern Continent. On a routine commerce day, Monsignor Lucius would be awake at dawn and reviewing alerts with his morning tea. It is the morning after Cesare’s age of consent festival. Monsignor is not likely to rise for at least another two bells. Two bells too late to act upon the alerts sent by Malcon, Straus, and by now, Trevelyan. Too late to halt the execution of Lilian’s sentence.