The Cartel
Page 20
“In answer to your question, monsignor, I believe it can be done,” the lovely warrior affirms.
“What will you require for your endeavors, Rachelle?” Milord’s demanding tone and impassive expression do not intimidate Rachelle.
“Monsignor, I require a team of three, mayhap four technologists including Master Magnus. A secure lab, a great deal of carefully controlled minerals - of which we seem to have a significant stockpile sitting idle - and the funds to pay for all of this.”
“And so it shall be. Rachelle, assemble your team. Trevelyan, arrange for the secure lab and a means to mask its purpose. Lilian, you will provide the financial and analytics support. I will expect the funding projections within a sevenday.” The clipped instructions do not hide milord’s eagerness to pursue this venture.
“Yes, monsignor.”
“Yes, monsignor.”
“Yes, milord.” What is milord’s play? This is a protégé’s role.
Milord continues, “To the extent possible, we must limit knowledge of this to those already touched by the counterfeit investigation.”
“Yes, monsignor. Yes, monsignor. Yes, milord.”
“Trevelyan, return our chemist to his quarters. I require another moment with Seigneur Rachelle.”
Honor acts as duty commands. The next discussion will be difficult. Seigneur Rachelle will not be pleased to learn that Chrys was involved in the counterfeit investigation without her knowledge.
“Rachelle, does it surprise you to learn that Master Chrys made an important contribution to this affair?” Milord’s manner and speech indicate a trust in his seigneur that milord does not normally exhibit.
Only Master Trevelyan is accorded similar recognition. There is a story here, I wonder if I shall ever know it?
Rachelle blinks in surprise, “Chrys, monsignor? Forgive me. I take not your meaning.”
“Rachelle, my security-privilege,” milord invokes his preeminence. “This entire affair began when Mistress Lilian was troubled by something she did not understand in a training exercise. She required a technologist’s assistance and asked her fellow raven to aid her. Assistance he rendered admirably and then most likely forgot. He would have continued to forget, had not recent media accounts identified Desperation Refinery as part of the conspiracy.”
“Yes, monsignor, I do understand,” Rachelle acknowledges both milord’s sovereignty and his revelation. “Chrys is quite clever. He would make the connections. Although I find I am troubled that he has not spoken of this to me.”
The lovely woman’s tone is pleasant. The stiffness developing in her posture is the only indication of her rising ire.
“I am quite pleased,” milord insists. “It appears that Mistress Lilian’s assessment of Master Chrys’ loyalty and obedience is accurate. Lilian, you may speak.”
“Yes milord,” Lilian nods at milord an turns her attention to Chrys’ lady. Five Warriors favor me. Chrys must not come to harm from Lilian’s ambition.
With a desperate earnestness Lilian explains, “Seigneur Rachelle, Master Chrys could not speak of it. He is bound by monsignor’s privilege. All that is discussed in monsignor’s office is under the privilege stricture. My training assignment was discussed in monsignor’s office. Although my questions contained little information, that I asked them was bound by privilege. Master Chrys and I were very clear on this point.”
It is quiet for a few moments as Rachelle absorbs the information and ponders the repercussions. Intent on Rachelle, Lilian does not note milord’s narrowed eyes.
Lucius is intrigued. Lilian has not lied or even misspoken. She has directed Rachelle in a path favorable to Chrys. In doing so, his apprentice has yielded more emotion in five minutes than she has in the past five sevendays.
“Monsignor, do I have your leave to discuss the counterfeits with Chrys?” Rachelle asks.
“You have my leave.”
»◊«
“Monsignor Lucius is pleased with your discretion and dedication to the privilege strictures,” Milady’s smile does not reach her eyes. She sits at her desk, toying with a small ornamental dagger, while Chrys stands before her. “Monsignor has given us leave to discuss your involvement with the counterfeits. What have you for me?”
“Milady, I have little to offer,” Chrys begins, presenting a beguiling countenance in the hope of placating milady. Lilian, what have we done? In his wildest imagination, he could not have foreseen this result.
Jonathan’s justice, Chrys calls on his deity. Has he erred, he will endure. Chrys continues, “I did not realize until three days gone that I had been involved in anything of import. Mistress Lilian and I have an agreement to assist each other in our training. Mistress Lilian wished to understand refinery processes as she had been given the regular review of Desperation.”
Milady has not released the blade. Carefully hooding his eyes and tightening his lips, Chrys continues, “I yielded commonly held information on scrubbing technology. I thought no more about it until this past sevenday when the media reports mentioned Desperation in connection with the counterfeit scheme.”
Releasing the blade, milady settles a little more deeply into her chair. Encouraged, Chrys alters his stance as his voice takes on a husky quality, “I very much wished to speak then, but the privilege restrictions are unequivocal.”
Flexing his hips, Chrys’ voice deepens, “Also, I deemed it a self-opening box.”
“A self-opening box? Explain yourself.” Despite her pique, Rachelle is amused by the odd expression. Nor is she unaware that her apprentice is intentionally alluring.
“A problem that solves itself, milady,” Chrys does not alter his tone. Milady’s amusement is a good sign. “Were I correct, it was likely that monsignor would inform milady of the matter. If I were mistaken, it remained an unimportant matter, not worthy of milady’s time or attention.”
“Nicely spoken, Chrys,” milady approves. “Your wit and discretion have served you well. As it happens, the matter is of great import. The counterfeit technology is a viable substitute for Vistrite in simple functions. Technology Blooded Dagger controls and which I am to develop for commercial use.”
All thoughts of enticement abandoned, Chrys grapples with milady’s system rocking revelation. Milady’s delighted smile blossoms as she adds, “It is very exciting and very secret. Monsignor’s will is clear. There are to be as few new players in the R&D effort as can been managed. As you are already involved, you will be joining my R&D team.”
Stunned at the possibility, Chrys finds he is having trouble forming coherent thought. “My thanks, milady. It works? The counterfeit technology works? Milady, my thanks. I know not what to say to this.”
“It is well that you are pleased with the assignment. It does not alter the fact that I am displeased to be the last to know any part of this,” milady’s regard holds a combination of pique and speculation that Chrys has no difficulty interpreting.
“Milady, I deeply regret my contribution to your displeasure. Is there aught I may do to relieve milady’s displeasure?” Chrys’ voice and stance return to seduction.
“I suggest you put your very clever mind to good use and think of something,” milady’s eyelids hood as she leans back into her chair, her thighs relaxing in anticipation.
“Yes milady.”
Chapter 14: Trials and Taunts
After three centuries of strife, history pivoted on the point of a blade. Would the balance tip to Order or Anarchy, societal advancement or annihilation? Marauders continued to bedevil all three systems. With the consolidation of power in the First and Second Systems, massive warfare had ceased. Jonathan Metricelli prayed that Socraide Omsted and Rimon ben Claude would turn on each other before coming for the Third System. The First and Second Warriors weighed the advantage of conquering the Third System against leaving their realms vulnerable to each other.
Versions vary and each Canon prefers its own perspective. All concur that what tipped the balance from Anarchy to O
rder was a man’s desire for a woman. Socraide Omsted became enamored of Adelaide Warleader, Jonathan Metricelli’s chief retainer and possibly his consort. Eager to detach Adelaide from Jonathan, Socraide engaged his ally, Mulan Tsao to negotiate on his behalf.
How the next series of events unfolded is shrouded in the mists of time, but the result is certain. Not only did Socraide and Mulan negotiate with Jonathan, they included Sinead. At that eventful meeting a contract was formed. The four warlords would cease to use military conquest to fulfill their ambitions. Instead, they would advance their designs through negotiation and treaty. It was Mulan Tsao, the Third Warrior, who provided the framework for the new order with a charter derived from the advanced society of the ancients. The Code of Engagement is the cornerstone of the Order of the Five Warriors. ~excerpt from The Origins of the Five Warriors, a scholarly treatise.
Sevenday 10, Day 1
“Lilian, you know you can’t live on those, don’t you?” Rebecca demands with asperity.
In response, Lillian nods, swallows and pushes away from the freshening counter.
“Yes, but it is better than my stomach growling at midday.” Lilian quickly disposes of the wrapper. Telltale evidence that she is skirting the stricture that limits where food may be consumed within the Cartel.
“Oh no, mustn’t distract monsignor from his enjoyment by anything as vulgar as a hungry belly.” The sarcasm drips from Rebecca’s tongue.
“Rebecca! Do not. You may wish to court a caning, I do not.” Lilian is truly horrified by Rebecca’s wanton disrespect.
Concerned, Rebecca pursues, “Lilian, you’ve dropped noticeable weight in the past two months.”
“It is not monsignor’s fault. There are other times to consume a meal. I simply cannot discover a means. I train in the mornings, and I am never hungry until after I enter the Cartel. I cannot keep current with my assignments unless I remain until tenth or eleventh bell. When I return home, I consume whatever is readily available. Usually fruit or a roll. And then it begins again the next day.”
“I don’t suppose you could eliminate the training occasionally?” suggests Rebecca.
“You know I cannot. Given Master Martin’s games, I believe it wise to keep well trained in the Avoidance form in particular,” as she speaks, Lilian washes after her ‘meal.’
“Well must monsignor have the entire period? It’s not often that I attend anyone for more than half a period. Although, I admit that I’m not above moving things along, if you will.” Rebecca’s conspiratorial smile is met with a blank stare.
“What say you, Rebecca?” Lilian questions.
“You know, little things you can do to pick up the pace a bit,” Rebecca is wearing her ‘educate Lilian’ expression.
“I do not, but I believe I would learn of this,” Lilian returns, speculation replacing curiosity.
»◊«
I am the sum of my ancestors. This day. Determinedly Lilian ignores the snickering that periodically erupts as she stands in the Archives waiting for release or rescue. Her financial analysis of milord’s Southern continent holdings languishes.
It is but another cruel game. Once Martin had Lilian at attention he smirked at his companions, “Roger, what was it I wished of Mistress Lilian? Do you recall?”
“Cannot say as I do, Martin,” Roger smirked in return. “Have you any notion, Shoshanna?”
“Not in the least,” Shoshanna responded with a sneer. “Martin, must we stand so close to her?”
“I am certain I shall recall my purpose in moment,” Martin taunted. “You are correct, Shoshanna, we need not be so close to her while I consider the matter. Mistress Lilian, remain there while I attempt to recall my requirement.”
With a satisfied swagger, Martin crossed the Archives to settle in with his two sycophants. That was over a bell gone and Martin has not left the Archives or released her.
Honor endures. As the bell passes, Lilian yields any hope of a timely exit from the Cartel and evening meal with maman and Katleen. Succor, when it finally arrives, is offered by a chirp from her slate.
“What do you, Mistress Lilian? You have not been dismissed,” Martin is quick to call Lilian to order when she reaches for her slate.
“It is Monsignor Lucius,” Lilian replies as she tucks away the slate. “I beg your pardon, Master Martin. I am required elsewhere.”
“Well someone has recalled a purpose for the doxy,” offers Roger with a lewd gesture that calls laughter and vulgar comments from the other associates.
Back straight, face composed, Lilian moves efficiently toward the doors. She must not keep milord waiting. She may not race. Honor acts as duty commands.
»◊«
Leaning forward, Lilian grasps the back of the scarlet couch. The long tail of her hair is pushed over one shoulder and swings tantalizing against a stiffened, aroused nipple. Milord grasps her hips and gives a gentle tug. Lilian bends and the tail swings freely. Whimpering in anticipation, her sex aching for contact, Lilian shifts her hips, imploring milord.
Milord’s hands collect the hem of her skirt and push it up her thighs to her waist. The tips of milord’s fingers sing against her flesh. As Lilian’s skirt bunches at her waist, milord’s boot touches her instep and presses outward. Milord’s breath caresses the nape of her neck as he demands, “Wider Lilian.”
Lilian opens her stance. At the movement, adrenaline collides with muscles strained by bells of standing and Lilian’s legs tremble with weakness, arousal retreating. Milord’s fingers slip past cerulean silk to find her aching jewel. The sensation is exquisite. Lilian presses against milord’s fingers as her passion rebuilds. The fatigue from half the morning standing with Nickolas, a bell after midday with milord and a period and half of Martin’s cruelty dissolves under the rush of desire.
Milord’s free hand finds her breast and palms it as the fingers working her sex increase their pace. Milord’s sex is hard against her buttock. Lilian writhes against the promise of the erect flesh as Milord’s thumb plunges into her and elicits delight, “Milord!”
“Yes, Lilian, yes,” milord urges releasing her breast while maintaining the tormenting contact with her sex.
The sound of fasteners is followed by milord grasping Lilian’s hips and tilting her, positioning her. The head of milord’s shaft pushes past the slender barrier of silk and strokes her soaked and swollen opening. Moaning, Lilian pushes against milord’s sex, seeking penetration. Milord responds with hard drive into her center. Pleasure explodes from deep within Lilian.
“Milord, milord…” Lilian moans thrusting back to meet milord’s pounding pace. Milord rocks and the friction is exquisite, stroking Lilian in the perfect spot. In moments she is drowning, swamped by a flood of ecstasy, held fast to milord by the strong grip on her hips and the rigid flesh inside her. Milord gives a final hard thrust and then halts, pulsing within her.
Lilian is as Lucius left her when he entered the freshening closet. She stands braced against the scarlet couch, legs parted. Her hair is forward over one shoulder exposing the graceful line of her nude back. The black skirt is gathered around her waist. The cerulean silk is dark where it is dampened by her sex. The long legs quiver in the aftermath of spent passion.
As he strokes his fingers along Lilian’s back, Lucius savors his pleasure for one more moment. It is a position Lilian has found difficult. Her release buckled her knees. Had he not held her, Lilian would have fallen. Yielding to curiosity, Lucius extends his caress and sends a probing finger into the bud of her ass.
At the unexpected and alien invasion, Lilian starts and gasps.
“Unexplored territory?” Lucius questions, fondling the lovely buttocks.
“Yes milord,” Lilian replies with a slight tremor.
Lucius is delighted, although Lilian’s trembling response indicates he will need to exercise patience. He permits himself one last caress before he says, “Make haste to correct your disarray, I must depart the Cartel.”
»◊«
Chrys’ alert that Master Martin was exit the Cartel permitted Lilian’s safe return to the Archives. Engaging two reviewers, Lilian will complete the task in half the time it would require at her worksite. She will not reach Katleen’s house by eighth bell. She may well reach it by the ninth.
Five Warriors favor him. Unable to express her thoughts, Lilian yields courtesy, “I am well, my thanks for your aid.”
“Master Martin is a nasty snake,” Chrys returns. “As soon as Rebecca informed me of his game, I was set to approach Master Simon. Your summons to monsignor arrived before it was needful.”
Chrys’ admiration for the brilliant R&D Senior Associate has grown in the sevendays since they entered the Cartel. Lilian is not certain that Simon would aid her. She is pleased that Chrys would have made the attempt.
»◊«
Ninth bell chimes as Lilian enters Katleen’s house. She will be able to enjoy a light meal, conversation with her sister and a long sleep.
It is not to be. Two of Sinead’s Acolytes are settled on the stone benches in the courtyard.
Maman.
“Lilian! I am so sorry. It was only for a half a period. I had alerts to return and was weary of academy garb. Maman was willing and in good spirit,” Katleen tumbles down the stairs as she rushes toward her sister.
In good spirit, Maman was lucid. At the moment, Lilian has but one concern. She demands, “Katleen, is maman well?”
“Yes, yes. Maman is well. The kitchen is not.” Katleen completes her headlong rush by throwing herself into Lilian’s arms. “I am sorry.”
For a moment Lilian is overwhelmed by relief. Whatever has occurred, her mother and sister are well. Returning Katleen’s embrace, Lilian notes an unpleasant, sour scent. Wet fire?
“Katleen, what has passed?” Lilian gently pushes Katleen away to examine the young girl’s countenance.
It is ill.
With maman required to do naught but stir the pot at the chime, Katleen felt secure in attending to her personal affairs. Helena claims that the fowl insisted upon a different seasoning. The Seer abandoned the kitchen to explore Lilian’s carefully tended herb garden.