by E G Manetti
Shifting her in his arms, milord tilts her chin to meet his gaze. “Last year, when Flavia refused to provide a competency trial, that was as much to defy Apollo as aught else?”
“Yes, milord. Neither of us believed this was more than a routine intrigue. Apollo has been using his visits throughout the Twelve Systems to act as Thorn and bring order to his house. Matters are much improved.”
Milord’s eyes harden. “You expected the woman to resist rebuke.”
“I was to mark her and disarm her within twenty minutes. It was intended as naught but a humiliation.”
Silk enters milord’s voice as he asks, “How it is you and Apollo were so certain you could defeat one with decades of mastery? You have voiced you are years from it.”
Adelaide’s grace. No wonder he is so angered. “It was not as dangerous as milord believes. A mastery challenge is centered on endurance, milord. It is a display of commitment. Had I to manage two periods and then dispatch a master in a matter of minutes, it would be difficult. I have not trained for exhibition, but for battle.”
“You barely managed against Hannah.” Milord’s harsh tones are absent silk.
“It was but sport. I bear Hannah no ill will and I wished her no harm.” Milord says naught, but he is not convinced. “If milord recalls, I defeated the Garden Center Alcove discipline master a year gone. Maman has not defeated me since before the battle of Serengeti. Seigneur Trevelyan requires twenty minutes to topple me. My goal with Flavia was to humiliate without true harm. The bout with Hannah was excellent practice.”
Milord releases her chin, setting his hand on her hip. “How did it develop into a death match?”
“I have no notion. My easy avoidance of her first attack coupled with the teasing marks should have signaled the direction of the challenge. The custom and protocol governing alcove discipline is well understood.”
Milord’s hand tightens on her hip. “When she stripped her thorn, she went beyond intrigue into open defiance of Adelaide’s Prelate.”
Lilian nods. “She would have used my death to unseat Apollo. I wished her great harm.”
“But you did not slay her. What stayed your hand?’
Honor is my blade and shield. Too clever. Milord sees too much. “I heard the whisper of wings, milord.”
“Wings?”
“Warbird wings,” Lilian whispers. “The birds in my dreams, they are warbirds. I was to take the mark, render Flavia exiled from Adelaide’s service. It is a harsh penalty but warranted.”
“More terrible than death?”
Honor endures. “She trained from her thirteenth year. For forty years, almost all the life she can recall, she has centered her life on the alcove. With the rending of her mark, Adelaide has dismissed her from service. She is not anathema; she may enter the alcoves to worship but not to serve. No other sect will have her. If her family has sufficient commercial interests, a commerce position may be found. Otherwise her choices are the Crevasse or the Universalists.”
“Harsh indeed. Are you well with this?”
“Yes, milord. Truly, I grow weary of those who seek my demise.” Honor acts as duty commands. “I beg milord’s pardon. It is ill done that milord is drawn into this intrigue. The Lord Prelate is aware I will not accept a renewal at the Five Warriors’ Festival.”
“Temporary prelate status has served you well.” Milord shifts her legs from his thighs. “But it is better for your last season as apprentice if you serve no will but mine.”
Rising, he says, “The period advances, and Aristides will join us soon. Garb yourself.”
8. Concerts and Receptions
With the discovery of the Fourth System, competition between the First and Second Warriors escalated. In the next five years Socraide ventured three times into the unknown. The third voyage in the year 23 discovered the Fifth System and began the colonization of Troy and Milan.
In the year 29, Rimon opened the Sixth System, establishing the first settlement in the northern wastes to mine rubies. A year later, Vistrite was discovered. As required by the governing protocols, control of the planet and system was ceded to Jonathan Metricelli with the provision that Rimon’s cartouche retain control of the ruby mines. Into modern times, the rubies from Desperation are considered the finest in the Twelve Systems.
By the time Rimon Ben Claude and Socraide Omsted stepped into eternity, Order had replaced Anarchy, the Three Systems had become Six Systems, and the nine planets grown to thirteen. ~ excerpt from The Origins of the Five Warriors, a scholarly treatise.
Sevenday 130, Day 7 – Continued
Twisting side to side, Lilian assesses her appearance, enjoying the sensation of the silk knit skirt skimming her waist and thighs before ending three inches above her knees, the heavy weave warm and figure defining without being revealing. Deeper in color than the sea-green wrap milord favors, the teal brings out the deep red highlights in her hair and brightens her gray eyes. Milord will enjoy the narrow cut, and the yielding fabric provides the ease of movement she requires. Milord will also approve the matching knit top with its V-neck and front fasteners. Working her hair into a loose braid, she binds it with black silk to match her thigh-high hose.
Returning to the salon, she discovers milord by the windows. At her appearance, he puts aside his tea and motions with his finger. Pivoting for inspection, she notes that small bites are laid out in the dining area and the day remains bright, although a few high, feathery clouds drift over the bay.
Milord beckons, his dark eyes hooded, his face impassive. When she reaches him, he grasps her waist and pulls her into his lap. Strong, warm arms enfold her. Lips explore the border between the V-neck and her skin. Her sex clenches in response, her hands seeking the broad shoulders. A masculine sound of pleasure emboldens her to feather kisses along milord’s neck.
Milord pulls back, his eyes filled with mischief. “Nicely chosen.” One hand runs over her hip, testing the contrast between the fabric and the form beneath. “But insufficient for the concert and reception.”
Insufficient? Milord’s eyes are warm, his caresses pleasant. Game time. “What is milord’s will?”
A small box appears in milord’s hand. “A more ornamented form.”
A faceted teardrop pendant and matching ear jewels shimmer in scarlet satin. Touching the pendant in awe, she finds it is the length of the first joint of her index finger. Brilliant cerulean blue at its base, the graduated blue gem is cobalt at the pinnacle. The matching eardrops are the same shape and color but a fifth of the size of the pendant, which is fortunate for Lilian’s ears. SEV1 Mercium is heavy. Forcing her gaze from the jewels to milord’s eyes, she struggles to find words. “They are beyond exquisite, milord. I lack the ability to provide adequate thanks.”
Milord’s eyes darken, his smile holding promise. “We will test that comment later.”
»◊«
Aristides glances between Monsignor Lucius and his apprentice. The woman continues to surprise. He thought Lord Prelate Apollo’s anointing a masterful bit of political maneuvering, but it never occurred to him that Lilian would undertake Thorn duties separate from the Despoiler interrogations. Monsignor tilts his head in question.
Sinead’s scorn. He must focus. Tapping his slate, he sends the visual to the wall reviewer. Both Monsignor and Lilian lean forward as the visual unfolds.
Monsignor Lucius towers over the unlovely Newton, his head thrown back in laughter. At his side are prelates, at his back are guards, and at the edge of his shadow, a black-shrouded figure ornamented in crimson and gold. The image is perfect. Aristides could not have designed a better composition to portray Monsignor as the ideal of warrior strength, aligned with the spiritual forces of order and backed with the power to protect it.
The narrative is even more powerful for being the truth. Or close to it. Monsignor Lucius wished a private moment of devotion and went early to the warrior ring to avoid attention. His conservator owed a brief duty to her sect leader that was discharged at
the same bell. These personal and devout actions were crudely interrupted by a self-serving lunatic who promotes an ancient fable as canon.
In keeping with the nature of Monsignor’s devotions, the man was treated gently and encouraged to go his way. The two keepers in attendance were appalled that Newton’s lunacy had reached such extremes that he would accost any offering Shade devotions, let alone one of Monsignor’s Lucius’ rank. Discussions are underway as to an indictment of Disordered Wits to protect Newton from harming others or himself. The narrative ceases as Jonathan’s Keeper names Lilian as Adelaide’s Thorn, focusing the image on the crimson warbelt.
Crossing his legs, Monsignor nods. “Even if he is not found deranged, that should discourage his followers and quiet the media.”
“It plays well for Bright Star and Serengeti,” he replies. “But I do wonder how Newton and the media knew Monsignor was at the ring. A breach in security-privilege could prove dangerous at the planned events.”
“It was not of Bright Star or the guesthouse.” Monsignor turns to his apprentice. “And I was not the quarry.”
Fingering her conservator’s seal, Lilian says, “Adelaide’s Alcove alerted the media, Seigneur. They had no notion Monsignor would be there. They wished Newton and his media to discover me exiting the warrior ring after a competency trial.”
Sinead’s dagger, is there truth to the rumor? Given her performance at the battle of Serengeti, it is not impossible. “There is a media report, lacking visuals, that Adelaide’s Thorn entered the alcove and destroyed the discipline master with a breath.”
Lilian’s nose twitches and her lips tighten. “It was fifteen minutes and the woman lives, although stripped of her office.”
“I believe I prefer the media version,” he replies, wondering how he can use that tale to Serengeti advantage. “But how is it they did not waylay you at the alcove?”
“The trial required less than half the allotted time. We were within the Shrine of the First before the crowd gathered. They were much confused to discover Monsignor exiting Socraide’s Shrine and not a lone Raven exiting Jonathan’s.”
Shades’ grace that Monsignor also had devotions. “They sought a vulnerable target. Had it worked as they planned, the tale could have been very different.”
»◊«
Chrys resists the urge to pace the Serenity lobby; it will only call attention to him. Finding a high-backed wingchair facing the risers, he settles to wait. The media reports were beyond troubling. Lilian said naught of an alcove match. While he doubts she has slain anyone, being accosted by Newton would not have been pleasant. If there were a Crevasse in the Fourth System, Chrys would be glad to toss the man into it.
Stefan appears from a riser, one hand on the hilt of his fire-pistol as he scans the lobby. At least Monsignor is seeing to her safety. Rising, Chrys reaches the risers as Lilian emerges. “Lilian, is it well with you? The media reports are worrisome. What went forward at the alcove?”
Eyes bright, she replies, “I am well. Monsignor routed Newton with a few words, and I took no injury at the alcove.”
No visible injury perhaps. She is yet underweight and while the shadows under her eyes are faded, they are not gone. The woman has yet to recover from the battle and Despoiler investigation. What possible reason could there be to send her into combat? “What was in Prelate Apollo’s mind? You have more than executed your duty to the alcove. Could he not set another to this task?”
A riser opens, and Nickolas emerges.
Lilian shakes her head. “Peace, the alcove match was to be naught but a rebuke.”
Nickolas’ eyebrows rise. “Naught but a rebuke? You destroyed the woman with a breath and it was a naught but a rebuke?”
Glancing around the lobby, Lilian says, “Let us to the transport. The entirety of Serenity House need not have the whole of it.”
At the door, Stefan holds a hand to halt them. “The transport is not there yet.”
Before Chrys can ask, Lilian says, “After Newton’s ambush at the warrior ring, Mistress Deidre is adamant that we follow the strictest security protocols. Milord will exit and enter the guesthouse only through the secure transport bays. I do not enter or leave a location until Mr. Stefan or another guard approves. This morning’s incident served Serengeti well, but it could have been different.”
»◊«
The transit from the Serenity to the art museum requires a half period, sufficient time for Lilian to provide the tale of the morning’s events and for the three to discuss the afternoon’s plans. In honor of the Bright Star hull launch, exceptional entertainments are being offered throughout Fort Rimon. Milord, the ranked members of Bright Star, and the most prominent warriors of the Fourth System are attending a series of martial exhibitions at the governor’s palace. Fletcher and Jasper have accepted an invitation from Monsignor Angus’ protégé, Declan Red-Eagle, to join him in a cutter race on the bay. Built for speed rather than comfort, the two hulled, one-mast craft will be cold. Nickolas was pleased to have plans to be indoors.
The art museum is a seventh century neoclassical structure of gray stone with blue accents. Inside, the large central courtyard has a temporary stage at one end and tiers of seating erected on three sides. The second-level gallery has been configured as well, one section devoted to the media. With Mr. Stefan at the forefront and Nickolas at the back, they ascend the steps to the gallery, seeking Pippa and her brother, Sinjin.
They spot Sinjin first, the distinctive dark blue uniform of the governor’s militia standing out in the crowd. Of average height, Sinjin shares his sister’s slender features, broad grin, and amber eyes. Although his wiry build lacks Chrys’ or Nickolas’ breadth of shoulder, the graceful, contained movements indicate excellent physical training. Lilian knows from Pippa that he is a skilled marksman able to draw his fire-pistol as rapidly as she draws her thorn.
As Lilian anticipated, the sight of her escort leaves the smaller woman in a rare state of speechlessness. Chrys and Nickolas left their outerwear in the transport, unconcerned with the cold for the few steps need to enter the museum. The beautiful, green-eyed, copper-haired Nickolas is riveting in black trousers and a heavy silk tunic in deep green that displays his warrior’s build to advantage. The day gone, Chrys appeared faded and nondescript in his Raven black. Now, in charcoal trousers held with the dragon-skin belt and an ice-blue silk knit tunic that showcases his broad shoulders and the hard muscle beneath, he is very much the type of man Pippa favors.
Grinning, Sinjin ignores his dazed and silent sister. “Mistress Lilian, well met.”
“Well met indeed, Lt. Sinjin.” With a glance at the frozen hummingbird, she makes protégé and apprentice known to the lieutenant.
Pippa finally rouses with an introduction to Nickolas. “I cannot believe that horrid Newton dared to accost Monsignor Lucius. It was amazing to see him laugh. I find him intimidating. I do not know how you manage. When did Keeper Apollo, I mean Prelate Apollo, anoint you Adelaide’s Thorn? Is not mastery required?”
Pippa pauses for breath, giving Lilian a chance to respond. “All that is required is that one be consecrated and that Adelaide’s Prelate wishes it. It is but valid until the Five Warriors’ festival.”
“That crimson belt is very startling. It is well you need not wear it always. Reds have never suited you. Blues and greens are much better. What are those gems? I have seen naught like them.” Pippa peers at the pendant.
At her words, both Nickolas and Chrys shift their regard. Lilian arrived in the lobby swathed in the black wrap. Neither noticed her jewels when she unwound it to greet Sinjin.
There is awe in Chrys’ tone when he answers, “SEV1 Mercium.”
“I would not have thought it would be so lovely.” Pippa reaches to the pendant hanging between Lilian’s breasts.
She flinches away before contact is made.
Flushing darkly, Pippa pulls back her hand. “I beg pardon. I forgot.”
This day. Pippa did no ill. Lilian almo
st forgot. “It is naught.”
Lifting the gold chain over her head, she gathers it in her fist and dangles the stone. Delighted, Pippa reaches out to test the texture and weight. “It is heavier than it appears.”
“Mistress Lilian, may I examine the crystal?” Sinjin asks.
At Lilian’s nod, Pippa releases the blue crystal to Sinjin. “How soon before it is available to standard stellar transports?”
“I know not. There is still a great deal of research and development involved in its production. It must be perfected for the SEV1 before it is expanded in purpose.” Milord will delay until he has established absolute control of the trade before allowing its use. Negotiations with Monsignor Angus, who controls the propulsion technology, are ongoing and intense. Returning the pendant to her neck, Lilian asks Pippa about the program of early fourth century music and song.
“It is exactly what you enjoy. The first act is a duet of the Socraide and Adelaide story. There are three short ballads on the acts of Sinead, Jonathan, and Mulan. The second act is a chorale of Rimon’s opening of the Fourth System. It is intended as tribute to Bright Star and the exploration of the Thirteenth System. The tenor is exquisite.”
Unable to resist teasing, Lilian says, “I am certain he is, but how is his voice?”
Under the laughter from Nickolas, Sinjin, and Pippa, Chrys says so only Lilian can hear, “Twenty.”
I am bonded. She must not allow her delight in Pippa’s company to allow her to forget. The twentieth stricture in the apprentice protocol requires a modest demeanor. Suggestive humor could be considered a violation. She must be more careful. I will not fall.