by E G Manetti
Sinead, I pray you. Accept your servant’s contrition. Restore me to honor.
The blood-soaked scrap is tossed into the sacred flame. Lilian and her mother help Katleen to her feet and into the training tunic.
Turning back to the shrine, he finds the crowd dispersing. Whether intimidated by his operatives or from fear of Shade retribution, none have misspoken or done aught to disrupt the rite or further shame Katleen.
»◊«
Standing on the balcony, Lucius rests his hands on the balustrade, delighting in the bright sunlight for all it lacks warmth. Estella remains abed, her slumber undisturbed. The night gone she consumed a full meal and was able to enjoy a holographic entertainment before drifting to sleep in his arms. The Socraide’s Discipline Master is confident Cesare will succeed at his competency trial. The plans for Elysia’s age-of-consent cotillion have her beyond thrilled. It seems as if it was but a season gone they were toddlers clinging to his legs. Now they are halfway to adulthood and fill him with pride.
They are also entering the park barely past eighth bell.
Descending to the terrace, Lucius awaits Cesare, Elysia, Jenica, and two others. Parking their speeders, they cross the damp lawn, Cesare in the lead. Except for his son, they are garbed for the warrior ring. “What prompted a dawn ring walk?”
There is a certain amount of shuffling among Elysia and her friends. Cesare is unmoving. Elysia and her friends have been up to mischief and Cesare intervened. That he has not spoken indicates he is waiting for Elysia to confess.
Elysia’s gaze moves from Jenica to Cesare and back, finding no assistance. Clutching her hands together, she raises her bright blue eyes to his, facing him without flinching as she has been trained. She is so very like Estella it makes his heart ache.
“It was my notion, Papa. It was not well conceived. There was word of a special ritual at Sinead’s Shrine. I wished to view it. My departure disturbed Cesare and he followed to provide safe escort. He persuaded us to abandon our plan in favor of a ring walk.”
Cesare’s eyes narrow but he does not contradict his sister.
Glancing at Elysia’s friends, Lucius wonders, “Why is Marisa not with you? She is of Sinead.”
Elysia’s fingers twist but she does not look away. “She did not favor our plan. It was one of the reasons we abandoned it.”
Aristides’ daughter Marisa is as clever as her father and sensible for her years. Had matters between Grey Spear and Blooded Dagger not been strained for so long, he would have done more to encourage a connection between Marisa and Elysia. Now, he decides he will do what he can to promote a friendship. Anything that limits Jenica’s influence will be well done. The two cousins do not bring out the best in each other. Without Cesare’s intervention, he suspects the morning would not have gone well. He hopes the two seasons before Cesare departs for Mulan’s Temple will mature his daughter or matters may become difficult. For the moment, the day is bright, his children have behaved well, and he would a morning meal. “Such early devotions must generate a profound hunger. I was about to find a morning meal. Join me.”
»◊«
With Rebecca’s assistance, Lilian piles the cushions from her bed and Katleen’s onto one of the stone courtyard benches, allowing Katleen to recline on her side. Around them, her consortium arranges kitchen chairs while Mr. Stefan wands the food and drink being arranged on another bench by one Mr. Hidaka’s many relatives. Due to Seigneur Trevelyan’s generosity, the dim courtyard is bright with a score of Vistrite lanterns that appeared while he was in residence. Setting the last lantern in position, Simon seeks out Tabitha.
Shrine discipline is not a cause for celebration, but Lilian has had no time with her friends since returning from Fortuna, and the plans to meet and discuss the voyage were set a month gone. Emerging from the gardens on his way back from the kitchen, Apollo carries two open bottles of wine, trailed by an acolyte with a tub of ice. With Katleen unable to join them at the café, they needed to wait for Apollo to complete his Seventh Day alcove service.
Under the pretext that he secures milord’s property, Seigneur Trevelyan may be within the house for a few periods, as he was for the evening meal the day gone. For a gathering of this size, it cannot be done. As it happened, it was all to the good, allowing her friends their liberty-day errands and Katleen to recover her equilibrium. By the morrow, when Katleen returns to the Universalist school, her injury will be naught but stiffness, no more than she has often evidenced after an exceptional training session.
As the consortium fills their plates, Seigneur Trevelyan descends the stairs with Maman and provides Hidaka’s relative with payment for the feast. During the meal, every aspect of the hull launch, the attendant ceremonies, and the defeat of Benmyn Empire is revisited for those who remained in Crevasse City. Leaving Chrys, Blythe, and Clarice to relay most of the events, Lilian gathers contentment close. Although she regrets the loss of the intimacy of sharing quarters with milord, it is good to be surrounded by her family and friends. Three years gone she was a month from indictment, abandoned by all but Dean Joseph and Apollo. She could not have imagined such valiant companions and cannot regret the price she has paid to find them.
Eighth bell is chiming when Chrys and Clarice complete the recounting of Lilian’s combat with the Rimon’s Discipline Master. Before the match can be discussed and dissected, Helena ends the gathering.
“Games are done. Katleen is weary and those who face battle on the morrow should rest.” Even Blythe and Simon, with their limited experience of the seer, do not fail to understand these instructions. Tomorrow is a commerce day. They must be rested and ready for the challenges the next sevenday will hold.
19. Flavia’s Contrition
Except in Adelaide’s sect, the Shade prelate is a direct genetic descendent of the warrior the prelate serves. Having had no issue, Adelaide’s Prelates can be descended from any of the Five Warriors. Although a hereditary position, a Shade prelate can be replaced if two-thirds of the sect’s anointed prelates determine the Shade prelate is failing the Shade’s will. To cement control of the sect prelates, a newly anointed Shade prelate will often retire the former prelate’s Shade canon master, discipline master, and healer. The Shade prelate may also replace the financials, security-privilege, and media-management prelates, positions often filled by warriors who have achieved their ambitions in commerce and wish to spend their final years in service to the Shades. ~ excerpt from Warrior Sect Governance, an academy text.
Sevenday 133, Day 6
I am the sum of my ancestors. For the second time in a sevenday, Lilian pulls on the dark black trousers of sacred ritual.
I am the foundation of my family. The back tunic is fastened, the gold warbelt positioned with her conservator’s seal at the forefront.
Honor is my blade and shield. The black ankle boots are polished to a dull shine.
Honor knows not fear. The crimson belt of Adelaide’s thorn is snug above milord’s gold, her thorn set to it and not its customary place on milord’s gold belt.
Honor endures. She checks her image in the mirror. Her damp hair is tight to her head and restrained in nape ties so that it falls in a disciplined warrior’s queue down her back.
Honor acts as duty commands. Apollo selected dawn on a Sixth Day with good cause. Few will enter the warrior ring this day with Seventh Day the common day for reverence. Even if rumor of Flavia’s contrition and milord’s attendance has spread, Seigneur Trevelyan will be able to keep the alcove secure.
Gathering the black wrap and mask, she turns for her chamber door as it opens, revealing Katleen garbed in a peridot tunic and skirt. Purchased a year gone, the flowing lines are more fitted than when purchased, revealing Katleen’s budding figure This day there is no debate about footwear. Gray training boots are Katleen’s only option, the silver sandals outgrown and enshrined on a shelf. Reaching for Lilian’s hand, Katleen tugs her forward. “We should hurry. The shrine attendants have arrived, and others will soon.
”
Pleased that Katleen’s exuberance has not been dimmed by her scourging, Lilian hands her the thorn and allows herself to be dragged to the stairs. “By others you mean Chrys.”
“And Rebecca,” Katleen says. “I enjoy all your consortium, but Chrys and Rebecca were first and will always be my favorites.”
Although Maman has not voiced it, Lilian suspects that her mother wished to attend and her insistence that Katleen and the Ravens attend too was more to do with Lilian’s distress at the proceeding than any requirement of the Shades. While it is meager of her, she is grateful they will be there. Milord’s presence is always welcome, but this day it is bound to draw the media no matter how tight the security-privilege.
As they reach the entryway, Mrs. Zdenka is opening the door. Seigneur Trevelyan strides in, Rebecca, Chrys, and Mr. Stefan on his heels. Leaving Lilian and Katleen to greet the Ravens, he ascends the stairs in search of Helena.
“Leave it,” Lilian says as Mrs. Zdenka moves to close the door. “It is better we stand in full view of the neighbors.”
At her words, two shrine attendants step forward and out to the steps, fireburst pistols on their belts in the place of daggers. Seigneur Trevelyan is not alone in his concern that word may have spread. The sky is dark but not black, the stars faded in anticipation of dawn. There is naught moving on the transitway but a few scattered leaves pushed by a breeze.
In moments, the seigneur returns with Maman on his arm. Garbed in Sinead’s peridot vestments, the inverted signet won from Benmyn Empire hanging from her belt, she is every inch a warrior and prelate. When they reach the entry, milord’s transport glides to a halt in front of the house.
Mr. George emerges, the rust of Blooded Dagger enhancing the former prize combatant’s resemblance to a tree-troll. After examining the area, he opens the transport door and milord’s tall frame uncoils until his broad shoulders rise above the transport roof.
At Mr. George’s nod, Sinead’s Shrine attendants descend the steps and move down the walkway five paces to either side of milord.
Stepping aside, Lilian, Katleen, and the Ravens watch as the seigneur leads Helena to milord. Falling in behind Helena, Lilian and Katleen descend the steps, followed by Chrys and Rebecca, and then Mr. Stefan and Mrs. Zdenka.
After much discussion it was decided that Seigneur Trevelyan would present Helena to milord and not milord to Helena. It was not a simple decision. Milord is preeminence of Serengeti and his genetics are traced by direct line to Socraide. That Helena is a warrior with direct descent from Sinead is, by itself, not enough to supersede milord. But she is also a senior prelate, second only to Sinead’s Lord Prelate and the Lord and Lady Prelates of the other sects. By tradition, milord should offer the courtesy of being presented.
In this Lilian was adamant. “I am Monsignor’s apprentice and conservator. If it were not for his intercession I would be dead, Maman held in the Shrine quarters, and, if she lived, Katleen a shrine beggar. Maman will yield to Monsignor.”
Pulling her hand free of Trevelyan, Helena steps forward. “Well met, Socraide. You have always enjoyed an odd sense of amusement.” She gestures toward Lilian. “I imagine that is why Adelaide favors you. It is certainly not the charm of your countenance.”
Lucius is confounded. For years he has longed to encounter the seer. From what Lilian has voiced and Trevelyan relayed, he considered himself well prepared for both Helena’s madness and the often disquieting symmetry of her bizarre utterances. He was mistaken. He acknowledges an ill sense of humor. Now he discovers that his apprentice’s continuing ability to confound him can be attributed to genetics. Taking a few breaths, he captures the moment well enough to convey to Estella.
A sharp inhalation of breath draws his attention upward. Lilian’s face is a stoic mask. Is she concerned for her parent? Worried that he has taken offense? He knew this event would distress her; now is not the time to indulge his ill sense of humor. With the grace of decades of training, he collects the seer’s hand and bows over it. Unable to resist, he replies, “Sinead, your tongue has not sweetened in a millennium. It is no wonder we are often at odds. Do you wish to brawl or to see this affair to its conclusion?”
Helena’s bright laugh breaks the predawn hush.
At the glad sound, Lilian’s heart lifts. Coming abreast of Seigneur Trevelyan, she finds his expression of wonder mirrors her own. Maman’s laugh is a rare, wonderful event.
This day. Only this day. Reaching for serenity, Lilian releases her confusion to offer a brief prayer of thanksgiving to Adelaide and the Five Warriors.
Nodding to Mr. George, milord places Maman’s hand on his arm and turns for the alcove. It is a sacred ritual and they will walk. Stepping in front of milord, Mr. George is joined by Mr. Stefan. Seigneur Trevelyan falls in with Lilian and Katleen on either side. Chrys and Rebecca join the column and, finally, the Sinead acolytes. They are trailed by milord’s transport, a Blooded Dagger militiawoman at the controls, another seated at the recessed window with a fireburst rifle.
At the edge of the warrior ring, the militiawoman halts the transport and the guards join the procession. In a score of paces, they reach Jonathan’s Shrine. As they cross the threshold, Lilian dons her mask. When they reach the alcove, she accepts her thorn from Katleen. In front of the effigy, Apollo Acacia, Adelaide’s Prelate, waits in the formal crimson robes with black markings that denote his station. His face is turned toward the eastern gallery, where Flavia kneels, nude, waiting for Adelaide to arrive with the sun. She has knelt thus since dark of night.
Lord Gilead arrives, and as milord, Maman, and Seigneur Trevelyan greet Jonathan’s Prelate, Lilian mounts the stairs to stand next to Flavia, facing the fire slits.
At Apollo’s direction, Lucius moves into position, Gilead on one side, Helena on his other, and then Trevelyan, with the Ravens, acolytes, and guards arrayed behind them.
The sky lightens, tinged with red, then gold. Sunlight passes through the fire slits and touches the two women. Flavia moves first. Rising, she turns and begins to descend the stairs. Behind her, the black-clad figure is outlined in flame, a terrible figure promising wrath and destruction.
Had Lilian appeared so the Seventh Day gone when Katleen met Sinead’s scourge? Lucius lost no time in discovering what ‘ritual’ had interested Elysia. Aristides was more than forthcoming and pleased that his heir had a part in dissuading Elysia from ill-considered participation. Lucius will make certain that Marisa is recognized at Elysia’s cotillion. As for Cesare, he continues to prove an able heir.
Pulling his thoughts from his children, Lucius examines the nude woman crossing the cold stone to the effigy, the half-healed evidence of Tiger’s interrogation visible to all. Three of her fingers are splinted. One eye is covered in a patch. Chin has repaired the damage and sight will return, but it will be some sevendays before the patch is removed. Flavia’s breasts, belly, and thighs are speckled with healing sealant, evidence that Tiger favors the brand as an interrogation technique.
Apollo is neither cruel nor foolish. Did he wish the ruined prelate dead, he would slay her. To both Apollo’s and Lucius’ regret, Flavia refused Apollo’s continued offers to delay her contrition another sevenday. Apollo was beyond explicit. Flavia had defied Adelaide’s will, attempted to kill Adelaide’s Thorn, and intrigued to unseat Adelaide’s Prelate. Apollo will not stay his hand out of pity. Flavia would not be swayed from her course. She would have the trial and opportunity at redemption.
I am the sum of my ancestors. Lilian accepts a long crimson cord from an acolyte and threads it between the crossed ankles of the seated effigy. Taking the ends, she wraps them around Flavia’s wrists and pulls the cord until the woman’s wrists rest against the stone ankles. The binding bows Flavia’s back but allows her to stand firmly, displaying the black and crimson raven wing riven by the reddened scar of Lilian’s thorn.
Shrugging off his outer vestments, Apollo passes them to the waiting acolyte and receives the scourge. The braide
d handle dangles six thongs five feet in length and tipped with forged steel barbs. One for each of the Five Warriors and Adelaide. As Apollo tests the scourge, the hiss of the thongs roils Lilian’s innards. Her shoulders burn and her vision dims.
This day. Flavia’s scourge is not the mild retribution intended to return a wayward minor to the path of honor. It is a test of the woman’s will and contrition that she will not attempt to move from beneath the punishing lash.
I will not fail. Flavia recites the same verses as Katleen. Each verse calls forth four strikes, one strike for each point on the compass. The scourged has strayed from the true path and will be redirected.
I will not fall. Apollo draws blood with the first blow. At the end, Adelaide’s mark is obliterated, Flavia’s back a torn ruin.
There is only this day. Flavia hangs from her bindings. The bestial grunts forced from her lungs cannot be termed a cry of pain, but her planted feet have not shifted more than an inch.
At the touch of the length of linen laid across her back, Flavia ceases to breathe. Tears of pain spill from the corners of her closed eyes. In a moment the cloth is withdrawn. It is too large for the sacred fire. It will be sectioned and offered in pieces to Adelaide.
At Apollo’s nod, Lilian moves forward. With her are two alcove attendants and the alcove’s senior medic. The two shrine attendants unroll a flexible stretcher and pass it beneath Flavia, who draws breath, albeit shallow.
Honor endures. At their signal, Lilian severs the bindings.
The acolytes are well trained. As Flavia collapses, she is caught and upheld. Another guttural gasp escapes her.
Apollo strides forward and rests his right hand on the head of the gasping woman. Both touch and voice are gentle as they channel Adelaide’s will. “Flavia, Adelaide acknowledges your contrition. You have earned the right to redeem your honor. You will spend yourself to insure the life and well-being of the Adelaide’s Thorn known as Lilian of Serengeti. You will take up residence in the house of Katleen Faesetili. You will make your bed on the floor of a small chamber. You will allow naught to pass the lips or touch the form of Lilian of Serengeti that you have not sampled.