by E G Manetti
For a moment Nickolas wonders how she has knowledge of Lilian and Katleen and then recalls how well circulated were the visuals of the festival brawl. “Yes, that is Lady Helena.”
Jonathan’s retinue enters the courtyard led by Gilead, and then Adelaide’s arrives, led by Apollo. Lilian takes fourth place behind the alcove keeper and discipline master. The crimson belt of Adelaide’s Thorn bears the weight of her black mask. Milord’s conservator’s seal adorns the gold warbelt, as does her thorn. As with her trial with the Rimon’s Discipline Master, Lilian bears her weapon in reverence to the Shades. It is a sacred duty that supersedes the stricture that forbids her to bear arms in Lucius’ presence. It will be yielded to Katleen at the completion of the ceremony.
Socraide’s retinue enters last with Virgil in the lead. When prelates ring the Inversion platform, the assembled rise. As Lord Prelates and sect leaders, Gilead and Apollo lead the invocation. As a group, the circle of prelates entreats the Five Warriors and Adelaide to look favorably on the works and devotion of the faithful.
When the brief prayer completes, two faceless figures emerge from the quarters. Douglas’ pale skin shimmers in the dim light. In addition to the training mask, he is clad in a thong and short boots in Socraide’s midnight. At his side is a moving shadow. The ebony-hued Adelaide wears the abbreviated tunic and thong of a discipline trial.
For the execution of the Inversion, Apollo has foregone weapons. With exquisite grace, the Duet invokes the creative power of the passion, ferocity, and desperation that sparked the Order of the Twelve Systems.
When the Inversion concludes, Douglas and the Adelaide hold their positions for a three count before the lights on the platform dim. Turning to Lucius, Estella says, “That was stunning. It could have been vulgar, but it was moving. Sacred.”
Around them voices begin to echo Estella’s comments.
As Douglas and the Adelaide descend to receive robes from the waiting prelates, the murmurs swell and the crowd shouts, “Honor! Honor! Honor!”
The Inversion has been accepted by the elite of the Twelve Systems. It is not an unalloyed triumph. Most approve the Inversion, although not all. Several influential warriors and prelates can be heard exclaiming, “Lewd, blasphemous, demon inspired.”
Mulan’s Keeper is horrified. Her discipline master is noncommittal. The support among the Fourth and Fifth Warrior adherents is strong enough to ensure that they will allow the Inversion as part of shrine and alcove rituals. More importantly, Lucius Mercio and Lady Estella have approved it. Virgil must allow it. Eventually Socraide’s Prelate will yield.
Rimon’s Keeper Kyndel will take Lady Estella’s support under advisement. In response, Estella smiles at the fussy man who considers himself her spiritual advisor. Rimon’s Prelate will visit Crevasse City during the dry season and Estella will work her will. Standing at his wife’s shoulder, Lucius turns his face away to avoid his amusement being discovered.
Apollo is well satisfied.
13. Rats i
n a Maze
The centerpiece of Adelaide’s Gardens is a hedge maze planted under the Warleader’s direction and reputed to be of her design. It was the first hedge maze in the Third System and believed to be inspired by one in Socraide Omsted’s stronghold that had delighted Adelaide. At one time, scholars thought that the maze in the Garden Center Alcove Quarters was a miniature version of the one in Socraide’s fortress. Modern comparisons have determined that while the designs have similar features, the one of Adelaide’s design follows a different flow and incorporates features that suggest the five primary forms of the avoidance movement of Adelaide’s Discipline. ~ excerpt from The Foundations of Order, a scholarly treatise.
Sevenday 143, Day 6
The Inversion is a success. After she congratulates Apollo, Lilian’s duties are done, and she is free to seek out Katleen among the guests circulating in the gardens and among the pavilions. As she separates from the alcove group, Chrys and Rebecca greet her, Flavia an ever-vigilant shadow. Within steps, Clarice and Douglas join them. Douglas, now in loose training trousers and a light jacket, is the first to spot the bright redhead at the edge of the farthest pavilion.
As they near, Lilian can hear Katleen holding forth on the canonical basis for the Inversion. She may be young, but unlike the others she was raised in the Shrines and has an advanced acolyte’s knowledge. At their approach, she halts midsentence. “Douglas!”
Racing toward the oncoming group, Katleen exclaims, “You were beyond moving, you and the Adelaide. Did you feel the touch of the Shades? I vow I did.”
Skidding to a stop in front of the smiling man, Katleen suddenly recalls decorum. “Master Douglas, I beg your pardon for the famil—”
“Peace, sweet Katleen,” Douglas interrupts, his smile broadening to a grin as he collects one hand with its newly permitted silver nail tint. “I lack siblings of my own. I am well complimented that you would offer me such a tribute. And yes, for a moment, I felt the Shades. Truly, without their aid I could not have executed the Inversion before so many.”
“Mistress Katleen, you are the picture of elegance this night,” Chrys says, further setting Katleen at her ease. “That hue suits you well.”
“Far nicer than my finest training garb.” Blythe joins the conversation. As with the others, she is in training garb to better blend among the guards. Somewhere in the pavilions, Seigneur Marco is a guest along with his spouse, but for this event none of the apprentices are required to attend their lords and it would be effrontery to expect acknowledgement.
In moments, Katleen, Lilian’s consortium, and the free-traders are accepting beverages and small bites from Apollo’s servitors. During the greetings, Katleen collects Lilian’s thorn and tucks it away. When Lilian is certain her friends have met their needs, she leads the way to a stone niche in the wall that separates the courtyard from the gardens. The stone benches provide seating for all and it is far enough from the pavilions that none of higher rank will wish its use. At the niche edges, Mr. Stefan, Flavia scour the dark gardens, seeking threats. Knowing they will not be deterred, Lilian leaves the guards to her duty and joins her friends. For truth, she is glad for their vigilance, for all it is likely unwarranted.
“Rimon condemn him,” Caoimhe profanes, shutting down the conversation.
“Caoimhe?” Lilian asks. The assassin is rigid with rage. It is not the tsunami of milord, or the fiery forge of Trevelyan. Caoimhe’s rage holds both heat and cold purpose. It is steel newly pulled from the forge. She ignores Lilian to address Bran and Raleigh. “It is he, I am certain. Sadico.”
What says she? “It cannot be. He was destroyed within his fortress in the final sevendays of the pirate conflicts.”
“It is he,” Caoimhe insists. “He no longer presents with that beard, but I will never forget his face.”
“Where?” Lilian looks around the garden.
“That man engaged with Monsignor Hercules and Keeper Virgil. Do you know him?”
“Captain Jarrod Mehta, commander of the Nightingale.” Chrys’ voice holds their shared horror.
“It is not possible,” Tabitha says. “Seigneur Trevelyan has had all the command crew investigated. And Sadico is dead.”
Bran and Raleigh stare at Jarrod. Bran nods as Raleigh says, “We were there when Sadico’s fortress fell. And yet, it is he.”
I am the sum of my ancestors. The sound of warbird wings fills her ears. “But the mask. The death head’s mask. How could you know his face?”
The free-traders exchange glances, and Caoimhe says, “When I was captive, it was before Serengeti joined with the Governing Council. In those early days of the pirate actions, he was not as cautious as he became later. In the ten days I survived before he gutted me, I saw him often and he forced me to his bed twice. I will never forget his face.”
Rimon’s rage. Caoimhe had not mentioned rape in the earlier telling. Lilian has no doubt the man’s features are seared in her memory.
Flavia, S
tefan, and Tabitha check their weapons as Bran picks up the tale. “We knew not what we would find and approached with stealth. We arrived as they were setting the buildings aflame. Sadico was in the forefront, directing the destruction and gutting the few survivors. We opened fire and they fled. We could either pursue or attempt to save the wounded. We chose the wounded. Caoimhe was the only one to live and she was able to confirm the leader we saw answered to Sadico.”
For the brief relaying of the ugly tale, Caoimhe has remained calm and stoic. At its completion, she turns her gaze to Jarrod. “How is it possible that the cartel shelters him? Raleigh, abandon the Mercium. This enterprise is corrupted. My thanks for my life.”
Caoimhe pulls forth a small fire-pistol, her intent certain. She will slay Jarrod although it costs her life.
Within a half step she is restrained by Stefan, who holds her immobile as Tabitha collects the pistol.
“Pirates . . . rats and cats.” Lilian’s voice is soft, her form motionless. “Cats and rats . . . Despoilers.”
Raleigh is unconcerned about Caoimhe’s restraint. Now that he has found Sadico, the pirate is a dead man. Instead, he peers at Lucius’ strange apprentice. Have her eyes lost color? “What ails her?”
“Lilian is speaking with Adelaide,” Katleen says without concern. “It is well. Her eyes are clear. It will be but a moment.”
“Sebastian Mehta . . . milord . . . Bright Star. Nightingale . . . milord.” With a sudden shifting in air pressure, Lilian’s eyes return to their normal gray and she blinks. “Tabitha, recall your testimony at Seigneur Sebastian’s hearing? The seigneur voiced that Monsignor Lucius was meant to die in the pirate actions?”
“Yes, Lilian. I have so sworn.”
Lilian scans the garden, the obedient apprentice swept away and replaced by a warrior. “It was not a casual hope, it was a design. The pirates targeted Monsignor. It is possible the deacon and his companions are mistaken, but Captain Jarrod was Sebastian Mehta’s choice and Damocles had control of security-privilege until a few months gone. Until we have better information, we must act on the belief that Captain Jarrod is Sadico and all the Nightingale command crew are corrupt except for Masters Nickolas and Fletcher.”
Monsignor Sebastian? Pirates? Before Raleigh can ask, Lilian holds out her hand. “Katleen, my thorn.”
Ignoring the shocked exclamations of her friends, she attaches the sheathed blade to the crimson warbelt. “I am Adelaide’s Thorn and there are Despoilers present.” Lilian gestures to a man and woman in Blooded Dagger livery. “Tabitha, view you the Grim Twins? Seigneur Trevelyan’s agents?”
Eyes wide, Tabitha asks, “How know you this?”
“I am not a fool. I knew they were spies and guards of some sort from the third day. Enough. We must act swiftly. They must locate Monsignor and inform him that Captain Jarrod may be Sadico—pirate, Despoiler, and agent of Sebastian Mehta and Damocles. They must remain to protect Monsignor and Monsignor’s family.”
Checking the settings on her pistol, Tabitha nods. Before she can say aught, Lilian finishes, “Once you have set them to work, seek out Seigneur Trevelyan for direction.”
As Tabitha takes off in the direction of the Grim Twins, Lilian says, “Rebecca, locate Seigneur Trevelyan and inform him the command crew, other than Master Nickolas and Master Fletcher, are to be taken into custody.”
Lilian is already turning to Chrys when Rebecca interrupts. “Master Jasper?”
“Likely not fouled. But he has not fought at our side. We may take no chances in this.” Lilian is remorseless. She will face a piqued warrior before allowing a Despoiler license.
Rebecca turns and disappears in Tabitha’s wake.
Flavia has her pistol in hand. “Despoilers and pirates? They are the worst forces of anarchy. We should slay them all.”
“Better to take them captive until we know for certain,” Lilian replies. “If it is true, someone organized this. It might have been Captain Jarrod, but we must know. Chrys, locate Seigneur Rachelle. Douglas, Seigneur Thorvald.”
With determined expressions, both men turn for pavilions.
“Blythe, find Seigneur Marco and alert him to warn Iron Hammer. Clarice, take position by the fountain. I will rely on you to convey to me, or any of us, changes in the situation. Stefan, assist Clarice.” As Blythe hurries away, Stefan begins to protest. “Peace, Stefan. You and Clarice must view all and decide how we adapt. Flavia will guard my back. We dare not risk failure for lack of communication.”
His lips a tight line, Stefan nods and turns, his hand resting on his pistol.
“Katleen, alert Maman and the Lord Prelates,” Lilian concludes. Grim determination marks her stance.
Pale, her bright exuberance extinguished, Katleen follows Stefan in a swirl of mist green.
Desperate to attack Sadico, Raleigh contains his impatience. “What of us, Adelaide’s Thorn?”
Turning to him, she says, “I would your aid, and that of Master Bran and Mistress Caoimhe.”
“Our aid in what manner?”
“Distraction, Deacon. We go to engage the man you believe a pirate in polite discourse.” Lilian flashes a perfect social smile. It looks strange to Raleigh on the face of one who rarely smiles, but he has seen it often enough on warriors since leaving the free-trader worlds.
“If it is Sadico, it is unlikely a Despoiler recalls a victim left in the dirt,” Lilian continues. “That you are all well familiar with the pirate actions in the Eleventh and Twelfth Systems may cause enough anxiety for a mistake. If not, it is important to keep him distracted while Seigneurs Trevelyan and Thorvald arrange to take the command crew into custody.”
»◊«
At Lilian’s approach with the free-traders, Hercules smiles in relief as much as welcome. He now understands Lucius’ annoyance with Virgil. The prelate is beyond conservative and yet willing to embrace the Inversion he finds deplorable to curry favor. Jarrod is worse. Although he will not display it publicly, Hercules finds his kinsman distasteful. There is naught amiss in Jarrod’s bloodlines or commerce record, and he served with distinction in the pirate actions. Since his arrival, Jarrod has been diligent in his commitment to master the skills required of the Nightingale commander. He has also been devoted to gratifying his passions in the most questionable indulgences in the city. With more enthusiasm than proper, Hercules greets Lilian, “Adelaide’s Thorn, well come. I am eager for your opinion on the Inversion.”
With a flawless social smile, she defuses Hercules’ lapse. “Monsignor is beyond gracious. If Monsignor pleases, Deacon Raleigh and his companions would know the monsignor’s evaluation of the Inversion.”
“Indeed, Monsignor.” Raleigh follows with a somewhat less perfect social smile. “I find that our adherence to the Five Warriors follows different patterns in the Eleventh System than it does in the Third System. I welcome your insight.”
Hercules did not reach his rank by being a fool. Adelaide’s Thorn and the free-trader have something in play. The fallen prelate who guards Lilian is fading into the shadows, her hand on the grip of her fire-pistol. They have targeted Jarrod and consider him dangerous. Another second and Hercules processes what he initially missed: Lilian is armed with her thorn and it rests not on the gold but the crimson belt. Despoilers. Lilian and her companions believe Jarrod a Despoiler.
Fingering his dagger, Hercules says, “I found it remarkably evocative. While the erotic overtones could not be mistaken, there was also desperation. One could almost perceive the Servants of Anarchy lurking in the shadows.”
Ignoring the low-status group, Jarrod says to Hercules, “I cannot speak with authority on the piety of the display, but I would be well pleased to lurk in the shadow of the Adelaide.”
Gritting his teeth against his kinsman’s vile comment, Hercules notes Virgil’s gaze is fixed on Lilian’s thorn. This once, the keeper’s meager character is useful; he will not raise an outcry against the perceived breach and risk falling further into Lucius’ disfavor. As
for Jarrod, whatever brings Lilian to him, she wishes this unpleasant conversation. “Adelaide’s Thorn, is it true you have skill with the Duet? Do you find the Inversion comparable?”
»◊«
The central pavilion is crowded with those seeking a moment with Lucius and Estella. As the most influential societal leader in the Third System, and one of the six or seven most important in the Twelve Systems, Lady Estella does not mingle. Everyone of note comes to her while she remains comfortably seated. Did Lucius not know it impossible, he would suspect Apollo of arranging the reception to protect his spouse. As it is, even Marco is not aware her illness lingers.
The sudden appearance of Joyce and Rodolfo sets him on alert. Lilian’s secret guardians should be protecting his apprentice, not entering his pavilion. Bending to his wife, he says, “Something is amiss. Keep the visitors distracted while I discern the trouble.”
The spies are well trained and efficient. In response to their report, Lucius glances through the gardens and discovers Lilian engaged with the group that contains Jarrod, her thorn on her belt. Five Warriors protect us. She is becoming Wraith.
As Lucius returns to her, Estella dismisses her companions.
Lucius whispers in his wife’s ear, using posture and expression to convey naught but the casual intimacy of the long wedlocked. “Estella, my love, did you wish to destroy the leadership of Serengeti and Bright Star, as they are gathered here this night, how would you accomplish it?”
The tightening of her fingers on the chair arm betrays her fear as she turns to him with a smile. “What a wondrous puzzle. What goes forward?”
“Jarrod is Sebastian’s tool. He may well be a pirate and a Despoiler,” Lucius murmurs as he returns his wife’s smile. His hand tightens on the back of Estella’s chair with each word. He well knows the viciousness of Sadico and the Despoilers. The pirate is within paces of his family.
Releasing her smile for the serenity of her public persona, Estella gazes into the gardens.