Bright Star

by E G Manetti

»◊«

  “Do you have it yet, the ornament?” At milord’s words, Lilian’s fingers hesitate on the fasteners of her blouse.

  She resumes the activity as she speaks, “No, milord. Andreas would have given it to me. I could not take it. To me, it was a pretty trinket. In the world of the universities, it is a powerful trophy, the oldest artifact yet.”

  Slipping her feet into her shoes, Lilian collects her jacket and slate satchel and starts to exit.

  “You refused his battle offering?” Lilian’s rejection of such an offer would have been a clear message that she did not return the scholar’s interest.

  “Yes, milord.”

  18. Respite

  Within the Twelve Systems, labor contracts may be as simple as daily or seasonal wage agreements or as complex as a cartel protégé contract. The structure and content of labor contracts are limited only by the fraud strictures, with the exception of indentured servitude. The Apprentice Protocol dates to the time of the Five Warriors and the founding of the Order.

  Modern-day apprentice contracts offer the talented and determined among the lowest orders education and opportunity for advancement. By protocol and stricture, only those who have passed the age of consent and have been dedicated to one of the Five Warriors are bonded into apprenticeship. While there are few limits on the master’s control of the bonded, two have remained inviolate since the time of the Five Warriors. The bonded’s devotion to the Shades may not be hindered, and the bonded’s stated gender preferences must be honored. ~ excerpt from A Social History of the Twelve Systems, an instructional text.

  Sevenday 40, Day 6 – Fourth Settlement Day

  Milord is pleased. The long frame is relaxed in the scarlet desk chair, legs extended beneath the ebony desk. Milord’s slight smile is visible over steepled fingers as he listens to Lilian’s eighth-bell report.

  The sevenday began well with the synthetics revelation to Solomon, Marco, and Nickolas. In the intervening days, Lilian has updated her synthetics projections thrice with the aid of all three warriors. Although it does not figure in Lilian’s status report, she knows that Marco succeeded in the Bright Star ‘paired asset’ intrigue. As milord had planned, Matahorn and Leonardo succumbed to the snare of the paired assets, and Serengeti’s shares in Bright Star have increased.

  Milord has taken another significant step toward the goal of supplanting Orion as third among the cartels. As preeminence of Serengeti, fourth among the cartels, milord is outranked by no more than a score of warriors, including prelates and governors. When milord realizes Serengeti’s claim on third position, that number will drop to a dozen.

  “. . . with the change in shares.” Lilian continues her report on her Bright Star financial activities.

  Milord’s eyes hood and the smile disappears. Milord is not angered with Lilian. Milord is annoyed that he must employ a lowly apprentice to validate Bright Star financials. It does not please milord that the position of Serengeti financials seigneur is controlled by Grey Spear. Seigneur Garwynn is undeniably competent, but his loyalty is not to milord.

  Lucius savors the view of Lilian’s lithe form while he contemplates reclaiming for Blooded Dagger the positions of cartel security-privilege and financials seigneurs. Positions he was compelled to yield to Sebastian in return for Grey Spear support in the pirate actions. Lilian’s ability to construct the whole of Bright Star financials from her level of access is impressive. For the moment, it is sufficient. Lucius will focus on reclaiming security-privilege.

  Milord straightens in his chair as Lilian completes her recitation, relaxation dissipating. The fingers remain steepled and eyes hooded. This is ill.

  “Lilian, why did you not approach Seigneur Solomon with your concern about Southern Crevasse?” Milord asks quietly.

  No silk. Milord is not truly angered. It matters not, Lilian has erred. Honor acts as duty commands. “Milord, I erred. I had no concern until the recent operations review. When Master Southern presented his status, a pattern emerged. I should have waited, spoken with Seigneur Solomon quietly.”

  The toes of Lilian’s low-heeled pumps are badly scuffed. How had she failed to notice? They must be buffed.

  “Lilian,” milord warns. He will permit no partial answers.

  Honor knows not fear. “I was surprised. I thought it was a wrong thing, something there that should not be there. Like the wrong things that led to the discovery of the Desperation fraud. I did not allow for ‘poaching.’ It is not a problem for Desperation. I was mistaken.”

  “Look at me,” milord commands.

  Snapping to attention, Lilian meets milord’s hard gaze. Honor endures.

  Milord’s gaze softens, as does his tone. “Solomon is my vessel in all things Vistrite. For Vistrite, you may look to him.”

  Look to him? As I do to Master Chin? Milord’s meaning is not clear. Hesitantly, “Milord, if I may . . .”

  “Seigneur Solomon is not Master Chin,” Milord instructs sternly. “With Seigneur Solomon and for Vistrite alone, you are released from strictures ten, thirteen, fourteen, and nineteen. No others.”

  Lilian does not have the broad license with Seigneur Solomon she does with Master Chin, but what milord has offered is more than Lilian could have hoped. Lilian may speak freely with the seigneur without fear of penalty, as long as it serves Vistrite. With heartfelt gratitude, Lilian voices, “My thanks, milord.”

  “There is one other matter.” Milord’s smile holds mischief.

  Game time?

  “Yes, milord.” Lilian braces for what will come.

  Lucius’ smile broadens at Lilian’s obedience as he once again relaxes into his chair. “Lilian, you have done well. You are at liberty for the remainder of the day. You may exit the Cartel when you please.”

  “Milord, my thanks, I would . . .” Lilian stumbles. The extra bells of liberty are always welcome, but milord’s approval is far more important. Lilian wishes to kiss milord. It is effrontery.

  “Do you wish to express appreciation, come here.” Milord holds out his hand in invitation and Lilian rapidly rounds the desk.

  »◊«

  Easing back in her chair in the Archives, Lilian turns to Tabitha. “These ten assignments hold three errors in the results.”

  Milord’s gift of liberty has been expended in a manner that pleases Lilian and works in milord’s favor. With Katleen in school until midday and Lilian’s consortium committed to the Cartel until the same bell, she divided her time between pursuit of Damien’s head and Tabitha’s aid.

  If milord will accept complicity, Lilian has devised three plays that will see Damien separated from his cartouche within the year. Does milord wish to avoid any suggestion of taint, two of her plans may require as many as five years. These will require further refinement. Lilian may not outlive Damien, but he will not survive her retribution.

  “Three errors?” Tabitha interrupts Lilian’s internal musings. “Why did you leave errors in these assignments?”

  “To help you concentrate,” Lilian replies with a rare lifting of her lips. “It will require naught but three bells for you to review what could be two days of labor.”

  “A day and a half of labor, for certain,” Tabitha agrees with a shrug and then smiles in comprehension. “The search for the errors ensures I know each assignment, even though I executed it not.”

  “For both our sakes,” Lilian reinforces. “Should this come under scrutiny, we must be able to prove you validated each one.”

  As Lilian rises, Tabitha settles more firmly into her chair in the Archives. There will be no half day of liberty for Tabitha. She must review the work Lilian executed and complete three more of Master Straus’ special assignments. As Lilian’s slender black form exits the Archives, Tabitha wonders again at the Shade gift of such an ally.

  »◊«

  Lilian cannot be certain which has her sister more thrilled, an outing to the green-season river pavilions or the opportunity to be in Chrys’ company. Lilian is as amused by Ka
tleen’s open fascination with the striking technologist as Lilian is pleased by her sister’s judgment.

  “Lilian, halt a moment,” Katleen beseeches as she bends to adjust the cuff on her right tunic leg. The fashionable cuffs on the aqua tunic and trousers reveal Katleen’s forearms and ankles. They disguise the fact the both items of apparel lack sufficient length.

  In deference to the warming air, Lilian has allowed Katleen to abandon the oversized teal jacket as Lilian has abandoned her worn canvas one. Instead, Lilian has loosely knotted a heavy gray linen shirt over a thin cotton shell tucked into gray trousers. The warrior’s queue reveals the small gold posts in Lilian’s ears that twinkle at the conservator’s seal and thorn hanging from her belt.

  As Katleen adjusts her cuffs, Lilian decides, “You grow so quickly, I am certain we can find something in my university trunks you can use.”

  Rising, red-gold curls bouncing, Katleen grins. “Wondrous, Lilian. Your trunks hold far better than we can afford to purchase.”

  Lilian does not relish the notion of opening that window to the past. Nonetheless, for Katleen’s sake, it must be done. Mentally, Lilian adds the activity to the top of the list of neglected chores as she guides Katleen down the shady pathways. This outing is as much for Katleen’s benefit as Lilian’s. Aside from her Shrine instruction, Katleen has few interactions beyond her Universalist classmates, and they do not include her in their social events. This day’s outing alleviates the young girl’s isolation, and the apprentices are both well educated and part of the dominant warrior society.

  “There they are, Lilian!” Katleen cries spotting the two apprentices. “Oh, and look, they have a riverside table!”

  Among the temporary cafés and shops that line the river during the green season and early dry season, Rebecca has identified a small bistro within apprentice means. Delightedly, Katleen skips forward to greet the apprentices, Lilian following at a more decorous pace.

  Chrys is once again in the light blue tunic and gray trousers he favors. Rebecca has donned a pale pink tunic dress that works well with her lightly sun-kissed skin. With an inward sigh, Lilian notices Katleen’s rapt gaze shift from Chrys to Rebecca’s high-heeled gold sandals that reveal toenails tinted to match her pink dress.

  “Mistress Rebecca, are your feet cold?” Katleen offers disingenuously, miffed at Lilian’s refusal to allow the new silver sandals on the mild day.

  Raising one pedicured foot, Rebecca looks from it to Katleen and leans into the young girl to whisper conspiratorially, “Icy, for truth, but the sandals are so fetching.”

  Since, as usual, almost every man in the area and a few of the women are sneaking glances at their table, Rebecca’s allure cannot be contested. Of course, it is possible that some of the glances are for Chrys. Dismissing the wayward thought, Lilian tugs one of Katleen’s curls as she says, “When you are of age, Katleen, do you wish icy toes, so be it. Until then, you are doomed to my severe constraints.”

  “Lilian!” Katleen complains, mortified to be treated as a child in front of Chrys and Rebecca.

  “You are very fetching in aqua, Katleen,” Chrys interjects quickly, emphasis on ‘fetching.’ “The color brings out your hair and eyes.”

  Mollified by the compliment, Katleen grins as she settles into the seat between Chrys and Lilian. “Truly, Master Chrys?”

  “Truly, Mistress Katleen.” Chrys grins back as he tugs one of her red-gold locks in Lilian’s manner.

  As they enjoy the bistro’s simple and well-seasoned fare, the apprentices review Serengeti gossip and intrigue. Swallowing green tea, Lilian offers a new topic as the conversation lulls. “Rebecca, what says the Cartel of Seigneur Jurian?”

  “Metricelli Deuce’s Vistrite seigneur?” Rebecca confirms. “Conservative or rigid, depending upon the speaker.”

  At Lilian’s nod, Rebecca continues, “The seigneur is considered competent and deserving of his high rank. He’s had three apprentices and all have gone on to associate positions in one of the Crevasse.”

  Lightly tapping her glass with pink fingernails, Rebecca muses, “He is loyal to Blooded Dagger and Monsignor Lucius.” A brief pause. “Not particularly imaginative.” Her fingers still as she dredges up the last of her knowledge. “Stickler for protocol and he can hold a grudge.”

  “My thanks, Rebecca.” It is as Lilian suspected. The complaint did not come from Seigneur Solomon. If the Vistrite seigneur was displeased with Lilian’s revelations in the Vistrite review, milord would have censured her the next day. Milord’s rebuke was mild, nearly a sevenday after the event, and directed at her lack of political discretion. As kinsman, Jurian has access to milord that others do not and made a complaint. She must be more careful in the future not to misstep with the conservative warrior. He is second only to Solomon in Vistrite, and he is milord’s kinsman, albeit not as close as Marco and Solomon. Nonetheless, Milord will not be pleased to hear further complaint from that quarter.

  “Lilian,” Chrys asks with a hint of concern, well aware that Lilian’s interactions with Jurian would be related to the Vistrite review.

  Shaking her head, Lilian denies there is a problem. “Seigneur Jurian is second to Seigneur Solomon. I would know what I can.”

  “I would stroll through the merchant pavilions.” Rebecca turns the topic as she rises. They have settled with the bistro and the servitors are hovering impatiently to clear their table.

  “And the bistro wishes us gone,” Chrys laughs, acknowledging the servitors.

  Rising with Chrys, Katleen frowns. “Why? They do not know us.”

  Katleen’s question reveals how often she has been harried from vendors and shops as Gariten’s tainted offspring. She assumes that is why these servitors wish them gone.

  As Lilian and Chrys struggle for a response, Rebecca takes Katleen’s hand and tugs her into motion. “These are seasonal servitors. The tips they earn at the pavilions keep them solvent until they move onto the seasonal harvests. The slower the tables change over, the fewer the tips. Without such labor, they would be reduced to shrine beggars. It’s time we’re gone.”

  Shrine beggars, Katleen thinks. Those hapless enough to descend to that level lead short, harsh lives of humiliation and desperation without any hope for better. They rarely survive more than five years in that reduced state. Looking over her shoulder as Rebecca pulls her along, Katleen watches as their table is stripped, laid fresh, and occupied before they have cleared the canopy.

  Pulling from Rebecca’s clasp to insert herself between Lilian and Chrys, Katleen says somberly, “It is as Lilian says. Our circumstances could be worse.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Rebecca says bracingly. “Mine are the best they have ever been. I dislike the vanity mirror provided by the Serengeti quarters. Let’s discover a better one within apprentice means.”

  With that, Rebecca turns down the pathway where the merchant pavilions are arranged. For the next three months, the market will offer a wide array of goods from local crafts to the excess stock of the Refinery District warehouses that supply half the furnishings in Crevasse City.

  A bell later, they have traversed the pavilions and discovered one that deals in used furnishings.

  “Lilian,” Katleen calls from a corner, interrupting Lilian’s and Rebecca’s debate over the value of a full-length vanity mirror and stool. Chrys has discovered a set of vials and distillation equipment for which he is dickering with the proprietor.

  “A moment, Rebecca,” Lilian excuses herself, leaving Rebecca to purse her lips and twist in front of the mirror.

  “What have you, sweetling?” Lilian asks as she reaches Katleen, who is on her toes in excitement.

  “Look, is it not like the one we once owned?” Katleen gestures to a battered hardwood cabinet that is at least seven feet in height and almost five feet wide. One of its four doors hangs from a single hinge.

  Cautiously, Lilian pulls open an undamaged door to reveal the expected racks and drawers of a weapons’ cabinet. This
was once a fine piece of furniture. Bright patches of heavy sanding along the exterior have scoured away the worst damage from a fire. Flaking, scabrous patches are all that remain of once fine enameling ruined by time and neglect.

  Katleen is not mistaken. The size, shape, and workmanship are reminiscent of the household cabinet that is long gone, along with all else from the training chambers that are as shuttered and barren as the others in Katleen’s house.

  “Give you a good price, Mistresses.” The slight lisp of the proprietor interrupts Lilian’s consideration.

  Short, compact, with nice features and overly arranged hair, the proprietor brings to mind a fussy little dog. Lilian is certain his slight air of incompetence is manufactured to fool the unwary.

  “It is broken and burned. You should pay us to take it,” Lilian asserts, knowing that even damaged, the price will be more than she wishes to expend. “Come, Katleen, let us see what Chrys and Rebecca have decided.”

  “No delivery fee.” The small man hastens.

  “No delivery fee?” Lilian turns back at the merchant’s eagerness. Currently, their blades, training weapons, masks, and other equipment are scattered among the kitchen and the bedchambers. A weapons cabinet would be extremely useful.

  “If all three of you purchase.” The man gives an oily smile.

  Lilian frowns. “I control no funds but my own.”

  “I give good value. I give good value.” The huckster dances on his toes. “Let us set a price, and then we will see.”

  Eyes narrowing, Lilian settles in to negotiate.

  “Are you certain, Master Chrys?” Katleen whispers intently as Lilian continues to bargain with the merchant for a favorable price on all three acquisitions.

  “I can repair a hinge, worry not.” Chrys forces a severe expression to his countenance to avoid alerting the merchant. “Are you certain you can refinish the cabinet?”

  “Oh yes, Master Chrys,” Katleen returns, carefully keeping her back to the merchant to avoid revealing her excitement. “Do I require assistance, the maintenance servitors at the shrine are very clever. They will teach me what I must know.”