by E G Manetti
After washing down a bite of roll with juice, Lilian remarks, “Katleen, you are early risen.”
It is a delicate ploy. Katleen is given to night terrors. Before their ruin, on the rare occasions when Lilian was resident, Katleen would find comfort in Lilian’s bed. That comfort is denied the young girl by the terms of Lilian’s bond. Lilian lies with none but milord. There were several painful encounters between the sisters before Katleen reconciled and found her way to Helena’s bed when troubled by evil dreams.
“I am well.” Katleen denies Lilian’s implications. “I rose from my own bed.”
“What troubled your dreams, Lilian?” Helena interjects, shearing the dark red locks.
“Maman?” Lilian questions. How could she know?
“Your eyes are heavy and shadowed. You did not sleep,” Helena replies as she snips. “What is ill?”
“Naught that is new.” Lilian will not have Katleen distressed.
“You did not sleep!” Katleen exclaims. “I am sorry. You slumbered so heavily, I did not wish to disturb you by thrusting the thorn beneath your pillow.”
Lilian dislikes sleeping without her thorn beneath her pillow. It has been so since well before the ruin. Both Helena’s daughters battle demons in their sleep. Since claiming her thorn and placing it in her bed, Lilian’s slumber is rarely troubled. Lilian wishes she could offer Katleen a similar talisman.
“It is done,” Helena declares, rising with the cloth that holds Lilian’s clipped hair. Walking toward the freshening closet and the recycler, Helena adds, “Katleen, bind Lilian’s hair. The Serengeti transport will arrive in moments.”
The master medic has forbidden Lilian public transport until he is certain her fractures can withstand the inevitable jostling. The Serengeti transports seat up to a score and are primarily used to transit associates between headquarters and the Great Crevasse. They also carry visitors from the Crevasse City guesthouses to the cartel and, as with Lilian, occasionally an incapacitated associate or servitor.
»◊«
“Disrobe,” milord commands as the scarlet door seals to the sound of the final chimes of eighth bell. It is not the first time milord has issued the command. It is the first time it lacks even a hint of carnal intent. Milord is interested in the progress of Lilian’s injuries, not enjoyment.
Lucius slowly circles the nude woman, considering her from all angles. She is pale, her eyes smudged with bruise-like circles. Six of the yellow ointment patches remain of the dozen Chin applied. The exposed flesh is sound, the creamy expanse marred by only a few mild discolorations. Collecting the dark red tail of her hair, Lucius tosses it over Lilian’s shoulder.
Running a gentle finger over the green patch of sealant on Lilian’s right shoulder blade, Lucius evokes a slight shiver of response. Dropping his hand, he completes his circle to similarly examine her sealed ribs and arm. All of the seals are tight. It will be another ten days before the edges curl. It will be at least two sevendays before the substance sheds and leaves sound bone in its wake.
Lilian is far from recovered, but her progress is better than he hoped. Chin has excelled.
“Correct your disarray and join me on the couch. You are on restricted duty until Fifth Day,” Lucius instructs as he moves away and activates the reviewer. For the next four days, Lilian is limited to eight bells at commerce and no more than a bell in total standing. That she is also exempt from carnal services does not trouble Lucius. The sight of her battered form raises his ire at Grey Spear but no desire.
»◊«
Meal tray in hand, Lilian rapidly evaluates the Fountain Café and then moves toward two unoccupied seats near the fountain, Chrys, Clarice, and Rebecca in her wake. As soon as Lilian sets her tray down, every adjacent place is vacated with noises of contempt. Attempting to appear cowed as they repress smiles, the four apprentices settle into the coveted fountain-side seats.
“Lilian, you’re brilliant. Silly lackwits.” The irrepressible Rebecca grins as she voices what they are all thinking.
“It is small-enough recompense for two broken ribs,” Lilian returns as she raises green tea to her lips.
“The exile of Martin and that crevasse-crawler, Roger, is a delight to many,” Clarice responds. “They should be nicer.”
“Martin returns in a matter of sevendays and his court will keep him well informed,” Chrys inserts. “It is certain he will torment any who offer courtesy to Lilian.”
“He will be unable to torment Master Simon,” Rebecca grins. “I regret I missed Master Simon’s correction of Roger.”
“Chrys, how came it that Master Simon was present?” Lilian inquires. “I recall little after I fell. I am certain that Master Simon was garbed for commerce and not training.”
“I alerted him to your peril,” Chrys responds. “I knew he would come to preserve Blooded Dagger honor, if not for your sake alone.”
Nodding her understanding, Lilian replies, “Wisely done, my thanks.”
“Lilian, why didn’t you yield?” Rebecca interrupts with the question that has plagued her for days. “You must have known that your refusal to lick that crevasse-crawler’s boots could have meant more serious injury than broken ribs.”
After a brief exchange of glances with Chrys, Lilian answers as honestly as she is able. “Truly, Rebecca, it was difficult. Yielding would shame Monsignor Lucius and Blooded Dagger as well as violate the twenty-ninth stricture. Refusal to yield would—” Lilian pauses and shakes her head. “Well, we know that cost. I cannot voice with certainty what I would have done had Martin not demanded the thorn. I knew then he would not allow me to exit without assault.”
“What is it about that blade?” Rebecca demands with asperity. “And while I’m thinking about it, what is an elf queen and why would you yield to her and not Martin or the master medic?”
For a long moment, Lilian blinks in response to Rebecca’s series of queries, attempting to make sense of them and order a response. How could Rebecca possibly know about Lilian’s puppets or that she was compelled to sell the sea-demons?
Lilian’s financial situation is extremely precarious, a fact that she is careful to hide from even her friends. Her bond payments barely cover the household expenses and Katleen’s school fees. Without the sale of the puppets, the cost of the kitchen repairs would have emptied Lilian’s slender reserves, putting her at risk of failing to meet her commerce obligations. Such a failure would forfeit her trial and send her to the Final Draught.
Before Lilian can speak, Chrys does. “A child’s fable? What does a child’s fable have to do with aught?”
“A fable?” Rebecca responds in surprise.
“The elf king and queen and the sea-demons,” Clarice supplies. “It is well known in the Third System.”
“A fable,” Rebecca repeats as she considers. After a moment, Rebecca shakes her head. “The master medic’s potions are powerful. Lilian appeared coherent.”
At the confused gaze from her three companions, Rebecca explains, “Lilian wouldn’t release her blade and he was present. Master Trevelyan sent for me and I was able to convince Lilian to release the blade.”
Turning back to Lilian, Rebecca continues, “Lilian, you looked at me and spoke so clearly. I couldn’t imagine your intent.”
Shaking her head in denial, relieved that Chin’s potion did not have her revealing the secret of the puppets or her near destitution, Lilian responds, “After I fell, I recall little until the next day.”
»◊«
“Mistress Lilian.” Nickolas greets her with a stiff nod as Lilian takes the seat indicated by Seigneur Marco in the small conference chamber. Seigneur Marco never fails to acknowledge Lilian’s status as conservator in Bright Star sessions. Even if she were not on restricted duty, Lilian would be seated.
“Master Nickolas.” Lilian nods in return, uncomfortable with her first encounter with Nickolas since she fell in the training chambers. Lilian cannot acknowledge Nickolas’ intervention without emphasizing his d
elay in defense of the Cartouche.
“Mistress Lilian,” Marco breaks the tension. “It is well you are returned to duty. The Matahorn and Leonardo asset lists are extensive and we must begin evaluation immediately.”
The prior Sixth Day, Serengeti’s investment proposal was transmitted to the Matahorn Alliance and the Leonardo Society. The corresponding proposals from the other Bright Star partners were received by Serengeti. The proposed assets must be evaluated with the same care that was given to the Cartel contribution.
The Bright Star partner percentages are a general agreement, not yet binding. The level of resources to fund those shares will be the source of intense negotiation. Each of the consortium partners will attempt to accept the minimal value of the others’ offerings while maximizing the accepted value of their own.
9. The Luck of the First
With the ratification of the Code of Engagement and the Governing Protocols, wholesale warfare among the great warlords ceased and the Order of the Five Warriors commenced. Lawlessness and strife continued for another century as various interests attempted to dispute the supremacy of the Five Warriors or exploit the residual opportunities created by three centuries of anarchy.
As the Five Warriors turned to stellar exploration and commerce, they continued to drive back the forces of anarchy, establishing trusted kin and retainers to govern sections of their empires. Slowly, haltingly, the foundation of modern civilization was laid. By the beginning of the second century, the modern version of the Twelve Systems’ governance began to take form. ~ excerpt from The Foundations of Order, a scholarly treatise.
Sevenday 28, Day 3
“Again,” Lilian insists, sending Katleen tumbling over a stone bench.
“Roll. Rise. Hasten.” Lilian harries Katleen around a stone column. “One more circuit. Do not flag.”
Under Lilian’s watchful gaze, Katleen vaults, twists, tumbles, turns, and dodges the stone columns, benches, and fountain in the courtyard. As strenuous as the sparring is for Katleen, Lilian is not even warmed by exertion. She is well within Master Chin’s combat restriction.
Finishing the circuit, Katleen pulls free her face mask as she reaches for wind, her hands braced on her knees. After a moment, she leans back against the base of the dry fountain. “Lilian, I do not understand. Monsignor could ruin the Hernandez and Gomez families. They are harmed and shamed but may well recover given time and hard work. Why is it so?”
The First Day gone, milord denied Maximillian Gomez’s family a long-sought seat in a mineral development consortium. It went to a family and cartouche that have demonstrated the utmost respect and regard for the will and whim of His Preeminence, Lucius Mercio.
Max’s mother received a severe rebuke from her cartouche matriarch, who insisted that Max and his father embark on a long-overdue tour of the family’s holdings in the Eighth System. They are not expected to return to Crevasse City until the dry season.
“Neither has done aught to warrant ruin, sweetling,” Lilian responds as she settles carefully onto a stone bench. The bone sealant is gray and is beginning to show white at the edges. The areas remain tender, but the discomfort is no longer severe enough to require Chin’s potions.
Focused on her sister, Lilian ignores her healing injuries. “Excess retribution violates both reason and commerce judgment, and Monsignor Lucius lacks for neither. Monsignor has extracted full retribution for the insult to Blooded Dagger. It is unlikely any will transgress again in the next decade, mayhap two. It is enough.”
At her sister’s disgruntled look, Lilian continues, “Frown not, Katleen. Monsignor has yet to correct the Volsteds. There is yet retribution to come.”
At Lilian’s words, Katleen nods and pulls away from her perch. “The master scholar would frown on me should he know of my desire in this. Truly, it is ill of me, but I wish them all dead. They are cruel.”
“They are indeed vicious, my sister. Such is not the way of warrior honor. Nevertheless, ill nature and poor judgment are neither ruin nor execution offenses. Nor should they be. It is well that the Universalists’ tenets reinforce warrior honor in this. Heed the master scholar,” Lilian instructs as Katleen circles the dry fountain.
After their ruin, Katleen lost access to the academies of the warrior elite. In a Shrine school, the young girl would have been subject to despite as severe as that which Lilian endures at the cartel. To Lilian’s surprise and relief, she was able to find a place for Katleen at the nearby Universal Way Academy. It is a mixed blessing. The school is respectable and the scholars kind. However, their teachings are derived from the vestiges of the ancient enlightenment that preceded the Anarchy and are often counter to warrior values.
Halting her circles, Katleen resolutely faces Lilian. “I beg pardon, Lilian. It is ill done of me to wish retribution beyond what is due. Such is the way of anarchy and well I know it.”
Contrition complete, Katleen brightens at Lilian’s nod and rushes forward into her embrace. Gently pushing Katleen onto the bench, Lilian reassures her. “It is natural to feel anger, sweetling. It is only in the overindulgence of wrath that the gates to anarchy open. I think you are no such gateway.”
Lilian has been debating a course of action for several sevendays. Their mother’s derangement and Lilian’s cartel duty leave few resources to raise the isolated young girl in the warrior discipline. While Lilian is reluctant to yield Sinead’s Shrine additional influence over Katleen, the adolescent needs guidance that neither Lilian nor Helena are able to provide.
Mulan’s wisdom guide me. “Katleen, in the green season, the new acolytes will begin training in Sinead’s Discipline. If Maman is able to arrange it, would you join them?”
Discipline instruction incorporates both martial and canonical training. Katleen is denied the training available to the warrior elite and is too advanced for the common sessions. The acolytes are drawn from all levels of society, and as the daughter of a prelate, Katleen will be welcome. At the beginning of the green season, Katleen will be barely turned twelve, a year too young, but Lilian is certain the keeper will overlook Katleen’s age at the seer’s request.
Pulling from Lilian’s embrace, Katleen breaks into a smile. “I very much wish it. I shall speak with Maman today.” Her smile becoming mischievous, Katleen concludes, “You should not tarry. It will not serve to be late to the Cartel.”
»◊«
“Rebecca, if you please, that last set of properties again?” Lilian’s intensity increases Rebecca’s curiosity.
The two women are seated at an Archives console, two reviewers and both slates in play. As curious as she is about the odd assignment, Rebecca knows better than to inquire. Her role is to mine the data for what Lilian seeks. Now she turns her slate so that Lilian can view the ecological profile of a saltmarsh on Troy in the Fifth System.
A useful synthetics saltmarsh requires more than a valid chemical profile. It must also be located near potential markets and in a region where the manufacture will be cost-effective. The best chemical match is in the Eleventh System, a free-trader holding and difficult to manage commercially. Excellent markets for the synthetics, the Eleventh and Twelfth Systems’ free-trader charters are remarkably lax in dealing with potential counterfeiters and other thefts of Cartel security-privilege, making them unsuitable for a fabrication facility.
The next best match is in the southern hemisphere of the better-located Troy in the Fifth System. There are some chemical components that have rendered the area lifeless. Lilian must confer with the synthetics team to confirm that the additional chemicals will not hinder manufacturing. “This one is promising. Are you able to determine ownership?”
“It will take a bell or two.” Rebecca barely glances at Lilian as she rapidly taps. “I need the public Archives. I’ll send you an alert when I know,”
“My thanks. Have you time to run a few more inquiries? It will be well to have other options for Monsignor,” Lilian explains.
“I have as much time as you
require, with thanks to Master Trevelyan.” Rebecca grins, reveling in both the prestige of being preempted by the spymaster and the extra bells Trevelyan’s abstinence provides for commerce. As a Cartel apprentice, Rebecca is available sexually to the sixty-four ranked members of Serengeti, her duty limited to nine encounters in a sevenday. All those bells are currently available to dedicate to Rebecca’s ambition.
»◊«
Third bell after midday chimes while Lilian sits in the synthetics lab awaiting Chrys and Master Simon’s verdict on the Troy saltmarshes. Try as she might to attend the two men, Lilian finds their conversation barely comprehensible. A ping from her slate signals an alert from Rebecca. Chrys and Simon’s conversation recedes to a distant hum as Lilian reads the alert. I am the sum of my ancestors. Is it possible?
A few quick taps on her slate confirms Lilian’s recall and sends a thrill down her spine. I am the foundation of my family. Carefully hiding her growing excitement, Lilian abandons her attempt to follow the complicated conversation that includes regular reference to the formulas displayed on the reviewers. It is all she can do to summon the patience to sit quietly. Honor is my blade and shield.
Finally, nodding, Master Simon sits back and concludes, “One of these compounds will alter the color of the synthetic, but it is of no import. To be certain, I wish a sample, say one hundred gallons.”
Luck of the First! Accepting Simon’s words as dismissal, Lilian springs to her feet as she responds, “It will require a few days, Master Simon. I shall know by tomorrow when the sample may be expected.”
Lilian flies from the lab, tapping her slate as she moves. Red eargems.
“Chrys?” Simon inquires with a raised eyebrow, stunned by Lilian’s abandonment of deference and the sudden brightening of the normally severe countenance.
With a small shrug and a smile, Chrys responds, “The last time Lilian reacted in that manner, she had discovered the counterfeiters.”