by E G Manetti
“Socraide’s sword.” Milord’s hands tighten. “Did the keeper not suspect?”
“It was Keeper Waiman’s first season.” She cannot resist turning her fingers within milord’s and clinging. “The former keeper, who is the current Lord Prelate, had been elevated to Sinead’s Canon Master and relocated to Sinead’s World. When he learned what went forward, he aided us in having the cousin evicted from Katleen’s house and banning the cousins from ever entering.”
“That was why your mother was deteriorating. She knew the cousin was in league with Gariten but could not halt her.”
“I believe so. With Gariten involved, I dared not remain in Crevasse City and there was naught in the universe that could have compelled me to attend a cotillion of his devising.”
“So you left the next day.” Milord’s hand cups her face, turning to meet her with dark eyes filled with compassion. “What of Dean Joseph?”
“He was enraged on my behalf and offered to arrange a cotillion for me on Mulan, but I could not tolerate the notion.”
“You never had a cotillion?” Milord’s thumb strokes her chin.
As much as his compassion warms her, it is not necessary. What little interest in cotillions remained after she discovered the cousins’ perfidy was lost with Ronan’s death and her anger at the Universalists for making outcasts of those who went to save the settlements. “I do not regret it. It would not have been the same without Maman, and mine was so late in the season, there were but two others I would have attended.”
“The pearls were sold with all else?”
Honor is my blade and shield. She could say naught more, but there is no purpose in withholding. “Sold, yes, but long before the ruin. I used them to fund my entrance into the commodities exchanges.”
Milord’s eyes narrow. “I thought those funds came from your stipend.”
Honor knows not fear. The exchanges cannot offer accounts to any under the age of twenty. With Dean Joseph as guardian, Lilian opened her account at eighteen. As for her stipend, “When I refused to return to Crevasse City for a proper cotillion, Gariten slashed my stipend in half. It was enough for clothes, transit to visit Maman and Katleen, but not much more. Had I an interest in cotillions, I could not fund the wardrobe or other aspects.”
Transportation, subscription fees, tips for staff, elaborate preparations such as those for the governor’s gala, all require substantial funds.
Milord frowns. “You took private quarters at twenty. Your accounts showed income that was meager for a cartouche heir, but substantial nonetheless.”
“Milord did not have full access to my funds from the commodities exchanges,” Lilian says. “Although much was reinvested, steady flows were moved to a secondary account that I augmented with wagers. Those funds appeared in my account as if the Grey Gyre stipend.”
Before milord can reach the next conclusion, she adds, “At nineteen, I refused to join Gariten on Socraide Prime to be tutored in his enterprises. I wished to be nowhere near what, by then, I knew was black and gray commerce. He threatened to sever my stipend at twenty when I became an adult. I began to work the indulgences. I took my winnings in commerce tokens. The day of my twentieth birth festival, I opened the secondary account in Crevasse City. Unless one knew to search, it appeared as if funds flowed in from Grey Gyre and out to my primary account.”
Lucius is stunned. It is no wonder the woman thinks it liberty to spend the day abed tinkering with algorithms. At nineteen she created a shell enterprise and funded it with legitimate but untraceable funds to maintain the appearance that she received an heir’s stipend. “Why? Why make a secondary account? Why hide that Gariten severed your stipend?”
The gray eyes cloud. “I needed the heir’s badge. If it became known the stipend was severed, my rank could have been questioned. Gariten would not have hesitated to invent something to sever me from the cartouche and name Katleen heir. It would have increased her danger and reduced my access to Gariten and his activities. Or it might have called attention to the cartouche, and Gariten’s black commerce would have been discovered.”
Katleen. Lucius knows there is naught Lilian will not do to protect the child. As for Gariten, at twenty, Lilian was planning her sire’s assassination. She would have needed her rank as heir to protect her if she succeeded. Lucius rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “I suspect he allowed the subterfuge to avoid the attention it would have called. Had you enlisted Dean Joseph, he would have been able to secure you a stipend.”
Lilian blinks, and the clouds clear. “I was planning patricide. I wished the dean distanced from me, not closer. Had I not, I would have remained in his home rather than taking quarters.”
Demon shit. No wonder Nickolas has no knowledge of her. “You distanced yourself from more than Dean Joseph. How is it Pippa was allowed?”
“Lady Pallas could protect her.”
Stunned again, he can do naught but pull her close. His heart aches with recall of the images Dean Joseph provided with her protégé application: a young woman with soft waves of hair and an overserious expression. Capturing her mouth, he feels her startle and then soften. Ninth bell chimes, and he releases her with reluctance. They have commerce to conduct.
Sevenday 144, Day 6
Lilian wonders at milord’s purpose as she crosses the scarlet threshold with sixth-bell chimes. It is not unheard of for milord to keep her past commerce end, but on a Sixth Day it is unusual, and Jonathan’s Cotillion is this night. Finding him seated with Seigneur Trevelyan, she realizes they must be discussing the pirate interrogations. At milord’s motion, she settles into the comfortable chair to his left.
The interrogation of the eight Despoilers that survived the Inversion melee is well underway and will complete in the next sevenday. The Grey Spear navigator and the Iron Hammer security officer went to the Final Draught on First Day. That they missed the Iron Hammer man in the aftermath of the battle of Serengeti is troubling, but he was from the Seventh System and Trevelyan’s operatives are yet investigating the full breadth of the cartel holdings. Neither Despoiler had aught to offer on Despoilers in Serengeti Headquarters not already known. It is a relief to know they missed naught of the corrupt within Serengeti Headquarters, yet she remains troubled.
“What troubles you?” Trevelyan leans forward, resting his elbow on his knees.
For a moment Lilian does not realize that she is being addressed; she thought her purpose in the conference only to provide details as required. But the seigneur is correct, she is disquieted by the interrogations. She has yet to sift the intelligence to understand why.
“Lilian?” Milord’s voice is mild, his command unmistakable.
Clasping her conservator’s seal, she says, “Milord, Seigneur, I beg a moment.”
As is often the case, no insight appears to resolve her anxiety. Closing her eyes, she reviews the last sevenday of interrogations, seeking something that will reveal the source of her unease. Naught in the testimony. Other than the members of the command crew, the surviving Despoilers had little to offer, their ignorance as lamentable as their actions. Five Warriors take it. She has been blind. “New recruits, milord, Seigneur. The eight from the melee were all new recruits.”
Milord and Seigneur both straighten, and milord nods for her to continue. “Four of the eight took service with the Eldest, as they term it, within the past five months.”
“Half since the battle,” milord says as his fingers steeple. “With Sebastian under close watch and Damocles dead, who is recruiting?”
“It may have been the cadaverous man,” Lilian says. “It was obvious in the maze that Jarrod was taking orders from the man, not issuing them.”
Trevelyan nods. “His black commerce in firearms would have provided ample opportunity, although we have found naught of Despoiler activity among his associates. It suggests he was working with others we have not identified.”
“Have none of the incarcerated named any others?” milord demands.
�
�The newly recruited identified their recruiters, who are either dead or in custody. Other than those, the interrogations have yielded naught.”
“How is that possible?” milord asks. “Their rituals should expose them to their leaders.”
“Masks, milord,” Lilian says. “When among the rank and file, the leaders are masked. It is part of the advancement process to be permitted to look upon their leaders.”
Milord looks to his spymaster. “Are we able to force information through pressure on their kin?”
“These are a useless set. The few that have kin are estranged due to their own lacks.”
The Despoilers they interrogated after the battle of Serengeti had been evil, looking for an easy course to the achievement of ambition. Some simply delighted in cruelty. Few had been weak or foolish. The current set is both.
“The useless and the lost,” Lilian murmurs. She turns the thought over, spinning it. It glows and fragments. A pattern forms. The flaming symbols do not burn her hands as she juggles them, tossing them high to watch them settle and reform. “Disposable . . . disposable . . .”
Lucius looks to Trevelyan and he nods. Lilian’s soft voice is accompanied by Adelaide’s Eyes, the gray so pale as to be water clear.
“Malcon.” With a sense of impending thunder, Lilian returns. Her face and lips are pale, her eyes gray and bright. “Milord, Seigneur, I know not the source or purpose. It appears that what remains of the Despoiler leadership requires fireburst fodder. Had Sadico’s design succeeded, it is likely many of the recruits would have been lost in the inferno.”
“Their tactics are changing,” Trevelyan says.
“The defeat of Sebastian and the destruction of Damocles should leave them disordered,” Lucius replies. “How is it the Despoilers own the leadership for a change in strategy?”
Trevelyan looks to Lilian. “You voiced Master Malcon’s name.”
She nods. “The Warriors’ Expansion suggests an untoward interest in Servant of Anarchy roles within the Seventh System, the home system of the navigator.”
“Sebastian?” Lucius is startled. “He is closely held. It does not seem probable.”
“Mayhap, milord. Mayhap not.” Lilian’s gaze turns inward. “Milord is correct. The Despoilers have been severely damaged, not destroyed. They seek to survive. This past Sixth Day, the Despoiler forces were new and disposable.”
“Execution of a secondary plan,” Trevelyan interrupts. “Had they succeeded, the forces of Order would have been crippled. Failure cost little.”
“Yes, Seigneur,” Lilian replies. “That the presence in the Seventh System appears strong is disquieting. Or it could be naught more than with the center of power in the Third System destroyed, the satellite shines.”
“Or it may be a secondary system of power,” Lucius says. “Sebastian is wily and well versed in intrigue. It is not impossible he established a secondary power center.”
“Then Lilian is correct,” Trevelyan replies. “It must be Malcon. He has the skills, the knowledge of the Despoilers, and the anonymity to discover what goes forward.”
Trevelyan once owned the anonymity to serve in such capacity and did so in the counterfeiters’ affair. No longer is it so. More than one media enterprise identified him at Elysia’s recognition cotillion as Serengeti’s security-privilege seigneur.
Lucius nods. “Send him as soon as it can be arranged.”
»◊«
Horatio Margovian is enjoying himself. The visit to Crevasse City has not yielded all he hoped, but in total it has proven beneficial. The stalemate over Lucius’ hedge kin and Omar’s failed attempt to curtail the Eleventh System Mercium trade is an annoyance. The intelligence he has gathered on the truth behind the battle of Serengeti is beyond valuable. His inclusion in the small community battling the ancient evil has yielded knowledge of a dangerous, and heretofore hidden, enemy. It also reaffirms his position within the circle of the Third System’s shrines and government, where Lucius’ influence has been increasing.
With Aristides’ version of the Inversion melee dominating the reviewers for the prior sevenday, Matahorn’s prestige as a force for order is at its highest level in a decade. Jonathan’s Cotillion could not be better timed. There is no question it is Horatio’s night. As Lord Patron of Jonathan’s sect, he is as much the host as Gilead. None of the elite are derelict in their duty to offer proper courtesy. As Lucius arrives with his children, Horatio’s smile broadens. “Well met, Lucius.”
“Well met indeed, Horatio,” Lucius returns and pleasantries are exchanged as Horatio acknowledges Raphael, Cesare, and Elysia. A polite inquiry regarding Lady Estella’s absence is met with an equally polite excuse of mild indisposition. None make mention of the fact that Lady Estella and Horatio’s wife avoid each other when they may do so without causing offense.
Lucius’ entrance is followed by Trevelyan’s. The spymaster’s dedication to the eradication of the Despoilers is second to none. Gilead welcomes the spymaster with as much warmth as he did Lucius, expressing disappointment Trevelyan was unable to lure the reclusive Lady Helena to the cotillion.
“Peace,” Trevelyan replies to the prelate. “Helena has only recently come to tolerate small gatherings.”
It appears that the spymaster’s liaison with the seer is well known. Horatio cannot recall ever encountering the woman, but then he has little cause to enter Sinead’s Shrine beyond a brief festival visit. From what William was able to glean, for years the seer left her home only to attend Sinead’s Shrine and spiritual rites within the Garden Center Warrior Ring. In the last season she has been observed twice in the River Quarter with Trevelyan as escort and attended a reception at Sinead’s Quarters to view the Nightingale inscription. He had thought Gilead’s warmth toward Trevelyan an acknowledgement of the spymaster’s Despoiler hunting, but it is possible it has more to do with his relationship with the seer. For all her derangement, the seer is well regarded within the Shrines.
“Has the Inversion melee resulted in a setback?” Apollo asks, joining the group. “Having both her children at risk of death by incineration would overset a hardier soul.”
“I do not believe it so,” Trevelyan replies. “Such events are not readily dismissed, but they are not of the substance of Gariten’s abuse. How the Shrines could countenance such defies any notion of warrior honor or order.”
At Horatio’s side, William stiffens. They have no notion what is being discussed, but they will remain silent and learn what they may. William will fill in the missing details on the morrow.
Gilead responds, “The alliance preceded my elevation to Lord Prelate. I can only voice that Sinead’s Sect’s leaders were no more pleased at the match than the seer. It changed naught. The contract was binding. Lady Helena could honor it or be foresworn. Does it comfort you, her cousins are not welcome among the shrines except as must be provided to any devoted.”
“And a child was given over to a demon,” Trevelyan returns coldly.
“Lady Helena had passed the age of majority,” Apollo says with a sigh. “Truly, none were more horrified than Sinead’s Prelate to discover the seer was with child at her consecration.”
It is all Horatio can do to keep silent. Helena would have been but twenty-four at her consecration, when warriors rarely wed before thirty. That she was with child at her consecration is beyond shocking. Gilead is as stunned as Horatio, demanding, “What say you?”
Surprised in turn, Apollo says, “It is not well known? I had it from Katleen. Sinead’s Shrine could not void the contract, but they were able to support Helena’s insistence on completing her education.”
Horatio has no notion how the contract could have been contested, but he has enough experience with shrine politics to know that if Gariten had not complied with Sinead’s sect’s wishes, Sinead’s Lord Prelate would not have hesitated to act against Gariten’s social connections and related commerce ambitions.
“Helena completed her studies and passed her twenty-fourth bir
th anniversary in the eighth month of the year,” Apollo continues. “In the ninth month she was wed. In the third month of the following year she was consecrated to Sinead. Lilian had been within her womb for three months.”
Horatio is appalled. The tradition that warriors rarely marry or reproduce before their thirtieth year has a great deal to do with reverence for commerce and bloodlines. It also serves as a precaution against divided spirituality. To be consecrated while with child is to commit an unformed spirit to a deity that may not be of the Shades’ Will.
Trevelyan recovers and asks, “How is it that Lilian was to be dedicated to the Fourth and not the Fifth?”
Dedicated in the womb, Lilian’s spirit could only be whole did it surrender to Sinead.
“She was Gariten’s only child and heir,” Gilead responds. “Heir to a signet, she was to embrace the deity that is patron of the signet. The dedication to Adelaide was viewed by the Shrines as the Will of the Shades.”
At Trevelyan’s evident confusion, Apollo explains, “Adelaide is kinswoman to Sinead and Warleader to Jonathan. The claims of both Shades were deemed satisfied by the arrangement.”
“Three. Three of your bloodthirsty deities claim duty from Lilian?” Trevelyan’s countenance darkens.
Bloodthirsty deities? Is there truth to the rumors that Trevelyan was once a Universalist?
“Four now,” Gilead says. “When Lilian sealed her bond to Lucius, she yielded her will to his and Socraide’s.”
Trevelyan’s eyes narrow. “And her ferocious assault on the Despoilers? Is she bound to Rimon as well?”