by E G Manetti
Adelaide’s thorn. Who could have relayed that tale? None of it should be public knowledge.
Next to her, Chrys shakes his head, not that she suspected he or Rebecca would have voiced aught. Milord does care for the rumor he has sold his soul to the Shade of the First, but he is not troubled by it. He enjoyed Maman’s light mockery of the superstition, as evidenced by his gracious response. Having that exchange become media fodder is another matter. Denial will serve no purpose, however, and the protégés have the influence to diffuse dangerous interpretations if provided accurate information. “It was not a Shade direction, but my mother’s odd sense of humor that gave rise to the salutation. She is aware of the ridiculous rumors about Monsignor, as are all in the Twelve Systems. Monsignor’s indulgence was beyond gracious. The seer can be difficult.”
“Lady Helena was charming in the aftermath of the brawl,” Nickolas says. “I recall she can change topics abruptly.”
“It was a bit difficult to follow her,” Fletcher replies. “One minute she was directing the shrine healers to attend our wounds, the next insisting the sacred flame be tended and Sinead honored. In the midst of it all, she demanded poison for the invaders. It gave me a start until I realized the invaders were ants and not our assailants.”
Smiles flicker as they recall Lady Helena’s involvement in the aftermath of the festival brawl.
“As I recall,” Chrys says, “we were well tended, the ants routed, and the sacred flame burned. I am not sure if the Fifth Warrior received her due, but Lady Helena appeared content.”
Nickolas frowns with thought. “The seer did manage to create order from chaos that day. Know you her purpose Sixth Day?”
“Know you the will of the wind?” Lilian returns, for once making no attempt to hide her emotions. She is as bewildered by Helena’s will as she is resigned to it. “My mother is Shade-ridden, her will no more fathomable to me than it is to any other. If there is a pattern, I am unable to discern it.”
With that the protégés appear content. Relieved to abandon the awkward subject, Lilian disinters a Mercium evaluation executed almost a year gone. When flexible Vistrite was naught but a theory, Lilian and the R&D team conducted an analysis that indicated Mercium could be created to meet the requirement of the thirty-millimeter disk. Although put aside in favor of flexible Vistrite, milord wishes it explored as a contingency against the failure of the flexible Vistrite trials.
»◊«
Bright sunlight fills Milord’s large conference chamber, the cityscape beyond the tall windows sparkling in the early green season. Milord has not yet arrived for the Vistrite operations review, leaving Lilian to stand by the chair to the left of his place at the head of the table. When Seigneur Solomon was conservator, milord did not attend the reviews and they were held on another level. The return to milord’s suite signals that he will preside over the monthly reviews. It is petty, but she is glad that Seigneur Jurian will not sit in the place that was once Seigneur Solomon’s.
The Southern Crevasse master enters through the door left open until milord arrives. A new-made seigneur, she replaced the former Southern master after Despoiler corruption was unearthed in the Crevasse. With her is the master of the Great Crevasse, a former protégé of Seigneur Solomon who halts to make Lilian known to the new seigneur. While they are engaged in formal greetings, the masters of the Metricelli Deuce Crevasse enter and take their places without acknowledgement. Seated by rank, the Southern seigneur takes the place to the left of milord’s chair, the right belonging to Seigneur Jurian, the Vistrite Seigneur, leaving the Crevasse Masters to fill in on both sides.
Milord’s tall frame fills the doorway, silencing chatter as the seated Crevasse masters rise. Behind him, Seigneur Jurian enters with Cesare, milord’s younger son. At seventeen, Cesare nears his father’s inches, his lanky frame holding the promise of the same powerful physique. Having only beheld him from a distance, Lilian did not realize Cesare’s features are almost a duplicate of milord’s. The same well-defined chin and jaw, high forehead, strong nose, and deep-set, heavy-lidded eyes. The only difference is the sapphire eyes, where milord’s are dark. The Crevasse masters shift, looking to milord. There can be but one cause for Cesare’s presence: milord will declare him heir.
Milord’s hands rest on the back of his chair. Although she cannot see his face, she knows from the set of his shoulders that milord is pleased. When Cesare reaches the place at the foot of the table, milord speaks, his voice filled with pride. “For those of you who are not known to him, this is my son Cesare. On Third Day to come, he will be presented to Socraide as heir to Blooded Dagger.”
Into the hushed silence, Jurian shouts, “Blooded Dagger!”
For all he is conventional and disdains her, Lilian has never doubted the seigneur’s loyalty to cartouche and cartel. With the other masters, she joins her voice to the cry, repeating it thrice before falling silent. When the din dies away, milord presents each master to Cesare, emphasizing her conservator title when it is her turn. Formalities complete, milord takes his seat, allowing the others to do so. As she expected, he announces that with the Nightingale safely tethered in orbit above Fortuna and Mercium at full production, he will return to presiding over the Vistrite reviews, confirming for any who doubted that Vistrite remains the cartel’s primary source of wealth and power, as well as an essential foundation stone for order.
She has suspected for several seasons that milord would select Master Cesare as his heir. Master Raphael is well suited to take control of Blooded Dagger’s agrarian interests, but his hedonistic disposition is ill-suited to the rigors of the cartel and the demands of Vistrite. Having passed his seventeenth year, milord’s heir is more man than boy. When he passes his twentieth year, conservatorship of Desperation will pass to him. Resisting the desire to stare, she gives her attention to the operational review.
Cesare takes his place and pulls forth his slate. He is present to learn, not report, and according to his father, the behavior of those who report is as important as the operational details. He must learn to assess demeanor, the small indications of who is allied and who is at odds among the masters, if there is aught that might suggest a master is withholding or less than competent. They all appear skilled and dedicated. The economic softening of the prior year has begun to rebound. There is but minor tweaking of productivity objectives.
He notices the Ascendant master frown when the Southern Crevasse’s new seigneur reports. Personal animosity, or had the man hoped to advance to the Southern Crevasse? He will ask his father. When Lilian rises, he embraces the opportunity to examine her closely. Since her confrontation with Adelaide’s Prelate at the prior year’s warrior festival piqued his interest, he has done what he can to gather intelligence on the notorious woman. The image of the stark figure enveloped in Shade light two sevendays gone has haunted him. In a few months her bond will prove, and she will be able to begin his training as Desperation conservator. When she mentions that there have been signs of guild activity, there are sharp questions and comments from the others. Jurian is harsh in his criticism until called to order by his father. Guild activity is a constant nuisance and Lilian’s plans to discredit them are creative and should be effective. Is Jurian always so hard on her? He was demanding of the others but not belligerent. There may be more than one reason his father has returned to presiding over these reviews.
Operational reports complete, Jurian turns to the laser sting. The preliminary testing of the revolutionary cutting tool is proceeding apace. As with so much, the laser sting trial lost ground in the aftermath of the battle of Serengeti. By the time the dry season arrives, the Wonder trial will be complete. When they next gather, Jurian will present the protocol for advancing the use of the laser sting beyond Wonder.
Sevenday 134, Day 4
Lilian blocks the blow and strikes low. To her delight, Katleen dodges, Lilian’s fist but grazing her hip. Seigneur Trevelyan’s training is exceptional. Pleased at her own performance, Katle
en attempts to sweep Lilian’s feet. With a smile hidden by her mask, Lilian drops her young sister onto the stone pavement.
Katleen springs to her feet, black eyes bright. “You need not strike so lightly. Seigneur does not.”
Lilian lifts her face mask. “Avoidance relies on speed and endurance. That is what you need from these sessions. Maman and the seigneur teach other lessons.”
“Well done.” Helena’s voice sounds from the garden entrance to the courtyard. Setting a tray of tea and small bites on a bench, she says, “Frown not, Lilian. There is sufficient time for a small meal before you must prepare for the cartel and Katleen and I for the shrine.”
Never hungry after training, Lilian is glad for the tea. At her mother’s frown, she takes a small bowl of fruit. “The Blooded Dagger heir proclamation is not until midday. Why must you be to the shrine at such an early bell?”
“It is for the scourging,” Katleen replies, tearing apart a fruit-and-nut roll. “Keeper Waiman thought the timing appropriate.”
It did not take Seigneur Trevelyan’s operatives long to determine that the rumor of Maman’s greeting to milord was spread by one of Sinead’s acolytes. Although not present for the event, the young warrior is well connected and heard the tale at the shrine. The keeper was enraged when she learned that Monsignor Lucius’ privacy was compromised by her house. Choosing to punish the acolyte’s transgression on the same day milord proclaims his heir is Waiman’s subtle apology to the Blooded Dagger preeminence on behalf of Sinead’s Shrine. Although well intended, it could be a distraction when milord has not the periods for it. “Monsignor agreed to the timing?”
“Socraide has no interest in the matter,” Maman replies. “It is Sinead who was twice betrayed.”
If Keeper Waiman has decided the transgression is against Sinead and not milord, then he will not be needed as witness. It will be enough that he knows of it. Wait. “Twice?”
Swallowing the last of her roll, Katleen nods. “He was the same one who put it about Crossed Sabers when I went to the scourge.”
In a fit of pique, Katleen maligned milord. Although she repented almost as soon as the words were spoken, she is too old for such transgressions to be ignored. Given the choice of revealing her behavior to milord or accepting Sinead’s scourge, she chose the scourge. Her youth and that the offense was minor limited the penalty to six strokes of a willow switch, the true punishment the humiliation of being switched before Sinead’s effigy. Even though Keeper Waiman and Lady Helena took every precaution, word spread, and a large crowd of warrior youth gathered to witness. With the aid of Seigneur Trevelyan and Lilian’s friends, most were chased from the shrine, but it was an unpleasant business.
Neither the seer nor the keeper was pleased, but they had been unable to identify the source of the rumors until now. Or at least, prove it. Eyeing her mother, Lilian is not deceived by her serene expression. Helena’s scandalous address to milord was bound to be the talk of the shrine. The acolyte would not be able to resist the temptation. Helena’s game was a snare for the young man who betrayed the shrine and Katleen’s privacy. With a nod of acknowledgement, Lilian raises her tea in salute.
»◊«
Socraide’s Shrine is not the largest in the Garden Center Shrine Ring, but due to Lucius’ patronage, it is the most opulent. Jewel-toned light splashes across the tile floor, spilled from the high windows filled with colored-glass renditions of the First Warrior’s history. Whenever he enters this shrine, he delights in its splendor, never more so than this day as he walks with his heir. Behind him, Marco, Jurian, and Micah provide escort on the symbolic pilgrimage, Micah wearing the signet of Solomon’s family. At the thought of Solomon, Lucius’ heart aches. Master sorrow.
This is a day for joy. In the raised gallery, Estella glows with pride, flanked by Raphael and Elysia, surrounded by the families of his escorts. In Socraide’s midnight, Blooded Dagger’s gold and ruby insignia at his throat and ornamenting the hilt of his dagger, Cesare is every inch a warrior, the crown of his head reaching above Lucius’ shoulders. Five groups of prelates wait, arrayed around the sacred pool. Their first halt is before Rimon’s Keeper Kyndel, front and center of a dozen in Rimon’s royal and silver. Placing a hand on Cesare’s shoulder, Lucius proclaims him heir. “This is my son, Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. I ask Rimon Ben Claude, the Second Warrior, to recognize him.”
A slight man in his nineties with a mild demeanor, Kyndel steps forward, raises a sacred blade, pricks a finger, and daubs blood below Cesare’s right eye. “Rimon Ben Claude recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Walk the path of the Second Warrior, protecting those who are true and destroying false.”
Behind him, Marco, Jurian, and Micah shout, “Blooded Dagger!” and are echoed throughout the chamber.
A handsome woman in her fifties stands at the forefront of Mulan’s black-and-flame-garbed prelates and acolytes. Mulan’s Shrine Keeper has been in her post but a sevenday, her ancient and ineffectual predecessor retired to a mountain retreat in response to pressure from Gilead and Apollo. With the emergence of the Despoilers, no Third System sect could be left in the care of a meager prelate. Repeating Kyndel’s actions, Mulan’s Keeper anoints Cesare below his left eye. “Mulan Tsao recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Walk the path of the Third Warrior using wisdom to direct your actions.”
At the forefront of Jonathan’s group, Lord Gilead is an imposing figure in hunter green and gold. His heavy brow and jaw give him an intimidating aspect that his medium physique does not. Silver threads his wavy, dark hair, his whiskey-colored eyes bright with shrewd intelligence. Stepping forward, his smile is broad and welcoming. After a decade at odds, Lucius and the prelate are allies in their commitment to ensuring that the last vestiges of the Despoilers are eradicated. Anointing Cesare’s left ear, he says, “Jonathan Metricelli recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Walk the path of the Fourth Warrior, holding fast to honor and courage.”
Reaching Sinead’s contingent, Lucius prays that the seer will contain her madness, but he need not have been concerned. The gray eyes so like Lilian’s shine with naught but approval. In the back, red curls flash—Lilian’s sister peering over the shoulder of a tall acolyte.
A slender woman of modest height, Keeper Waiman rises to her toes to reach Cesare’s right ear. “Sinead Standingbear recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Walk the path of the Fifth Warrior, employing wit to confound those who would challenge order.”
At the base of the pool, the black and crimson of Adelaide’s sect blends into the black orb of the central fountain, the mist hallowing the smallest contingent. Lucius has cause to know that the sect’s size is deceptive; his apprentice is among the deadliest combatants he has known, and Apollo Acacia was her discipline master for a decade. With his trademark energy, Apollo steps forward, robes swirling. Bright red blood marks Cesare’s chin, the prelate’s voice filling the shrine. “Adelaide Warleader recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Walk the path of the Warleader, ever vigilant and steadfast in defense of order.”
Circuit complete, Lucius guides Cesare to the altar and Socraide Omsted’s effigy. Nine feet of carved black marble, Socraide stands with dual swords across his back, arms crossed to reach the dual fire-pistols holstered at his hips, and a dagger sheathed in one boot. The gold leaf overlaying the hilts of the blades and pistols gleams in the midday sun streaming through the oval opening in the roof.
In front of the altar, Keeper Virgil waits, a stocky man in his late eighties with a short curly beard. The benevolent-appearing prelate was vicious in his verbal attacks on Lilian and her family after Remus Gariten’s ruin. There is no question that the man’s tirades inflamed local sentiment against Lilian, increasing the hostility and disdain of her neighbors as well as
her physical danger. At the time, as Socraide’s Third System Lord Patron, Lucius used his considerable authority to silence Keeper Virgil. Now that Lucius has risen with his cartel and is the Lord Patron of the entire sect, Virgil will not long remain on Metricelli Prime. Had it not been for Damocles and the Despoilers, Lucius would have attended to it before this day.
With practiced dexterity, Virgil uses his blood to trace Socraide’s sunburst in Cesare’s forehead. “Socraide Omsted recognizes Cesare Mercio, heir to the preeminence of Blooded Dagger and Serengeti. Accept the First Warrior’s blade and with it the First’s brilliance in combat and commerce.”
When the cries of “Blooded Dagger!” fade, Jurian and Micah step forward. The gold and ruby insignia on Cesare’s collar are replaced with insignia edged in platinum. When they step back, Marco steps forward, an unsheathed dagger in his hands, the ruby and gold hilt also edged in platinum.
Cesare raises his hands, palms out. “In the names of the Five Warriors and Adelaide, I accept my duty to Blooded Dagger and Serengeti.”
The dagger flashes and opens lines on each palm. An acolyte hands Virgil a cloth to wipe first the blade and then Cesare’s palms. The bloody cloth is fed to the sacred flame while another acolyte binds Cesare’s wounds. They will not be treated with healing sealant. Cesare will feel the pain until they heal, and the scars will mark him as heir.
Heart bursting with pride, Lucius attaches the round platinum and ruby heir’s seal to his son’s belt.
»◊«
At ten minutes until midday, the Associates’ Hall is loud with chatter of the gathered associates enjoying the extra liberty. The large reviewer displays the front of Socraide’s Shrine and the crowd waiting for milord and his son to emerge. Mentally stepping through the ritual, Lilian determines that Cesare should be receiving Apollo’s blessing at this moment.