Nightingale

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Nightingale Page 37

by E G Manetti


  “When Mistress Katleen’s house is unoccupied, you will present yourself at the alcove twice each day for your devotions and meals. When the house is occupied, you will serve the family in any manner required. If the woman known as Lilian of Serengeti is alive and well on the first Seventh Day of the coming new year, you will be rededicated to Adelaide.”

  Adelaide’s thorn. It is Lilian who cannot breathe. It is a hard path to redemption. Dedicated, Flavia must spend two decades in devotion until she may be consecrated and free to trial for mastery. She will be seventy, middle-aged. If she succeeds, she will be given another thirty years of her chosen service to Adelaide. For that hope, she must tend Lilian and her family as the most menial of servitors and protect Lilian’s life until the bond proves. It is a cruel demand of one Lilian brought low.

  To her shock, Flavia’s eyes open and a smile curves her lips. “Adelaide’s grace.”

  »◊«

  Lucius dislikes Lilian’s appearance. With her mask removed and her thorn surrendered to Katleen, she is pale and distant. They return in the same procession as before, the seer on his arm, Trevelyan with her daughters, and the rest following. Resisting the urge to turn and gaze over his left shoulder, he does his best to listen in on the conversation that wells behind him. “. . . guild . . . Despoilers . . . Mercium . . .” Commerce. It is well. Lilian is recovering from the stress of Flavia’s contrition. Following George, he turns down the avenue to Katleen’s house. Only another half block.

  “Nightingale . . . warriors’ expansion . . .”

  He had planned to wait and carry Lilian to the cartel once she was attired for commerce. After the stress of the scourge, he will award her a half-day liberty for her service to Adelaide. She can rest and arrive at the cartel after midday.

  “Lilian!”

  Turning at Chrys’ cry, he finds the technologist holding Lilian in his arms. Her eyes are wide and staring, a shade so pale they could be glass. Pushing Helena at Trevelyan, Lucius closes with Chrys and gathers Lilian in his arms. Running his chin along her brow and cheek, he confirms his worst fear. She is as chill and stiff as when she discovered Sebastian’s and Damocles’ vile dealings as Despoilers.

  “Why does Lilian not speak, Monsignor?” Katleen is at his elbow. “She always answers Adelaide’s voice. Why does she not?”

  Demon shit. Lilian is not murmuring that odd disjointed inner dialog. “Run ahead and open your house.”

  Eyes wide, Katleen nods and darts ahead, Lucius striding behind her. “What of Adelaide’s voice?”

  “Lilian has Adelaide’s eyes, Monsignor. They are always thus when Adelaide speaks.” At the steps, Katleen turns to him. Whatever she sees has her rushing into speech. “They were thus when Adelaide warned Lilian about the Despoilers attacking Serengeti.” Leaping the stairs two at a time, she gasps, “Lilian always speaks in return and now she does not. I cannot tell if she is well if she does not speak. Please, Monsignor, make Lilian speak.”

  Entering the ancient and barren pile of crevasse stone Lilian calls home, Lucius moves unerringly up the stairs and to the chamber he knows is Lilian’s. Placing the limp woman on the bed, he stares into water-clear eyes wide and unblinking.

  Lilian’s mouth opens, her voice a hoarse croak. “Nightingale. Guild. Rats.”

  Under Lucius’ appalled gaze, Lilian’s eyes streak with scarlet.

  “Monsignor, you must wake Lilian.” Lost to all decorum, Katleen shakes his arm. “Adelaide is hurting her. You must make it cease. There is none other.”

  Shocked at the rude contact and impassioned plea, he demands. “What say you?”

  “Lilian is sworn to Adelaide’s voice. She cannot break free of it of her own will. But she will not be foresworn. If Monsignor commands it, she will return.” The frantic teenager grabs Lucius’ hand and places it against Lilian’s racing heart.

  Dropping onto the bed, he pulls Lilian across his lap. “Lilian, rouse. Rouse, woman. Cease this nonsense. Answer me. Rouse.”

  He punctuates his commands with a series of small shakes. It aids him not. Lilian’s eyes are turning crimson, her form is stiffening. Tipping her head, he takes her in a devouring kiss.

  »◊«

  It is impossible to be both unbearably cold and ripped by flame at the same moment and yet it is so. It is impossible for the same scourge to both brand and bleed flesh and yet it is so. It is impossible for a bird without wings to soar into the sky and cross the barrier of the horizon into the sparkling void. And yet it is so. It is beyond impossible for rats to chase the bird into the void and devour it. It is beyond horror. It is beyond terror. It is vile beyond the ability to comprehend.

  With the devouring of the wingless nightingale, the twinkling lights wink out. There is naught but the freezing, endless, soul-destroying dark. Lilian is lost.

  A tickle along her spine calls Lilian’s attention to a distant light. It is naught more than a pinprick. In the bleak, soul-freezing dark, it is a bonfire of hope. Lilian rises to the spark. It rewards her by growing in brightness and offering warmth. The promise of that warmth sets Lilian into a headlong race. With complete abandon she throws herself into the warm, welcoming light.

  Milord is kissing her. It is an excellent kiss. Without hesitation, Lilian melts into milord’s embrace. She arches toward milord as her arms twine about the familiar neck. It is naught but an evil dream. Milord and her thorn will thwart it. Her worn coverlet is not worthy of milord. The mattress is well enough.

  With those last thoughts, Lilian’s eyes open. What has occurred?

  »◊«

  Praise Socraide, her eyes are gray and filled with naught but confusion. Lucius’ heart settles in his chest as awareness replaces confusion in Lilian’s eyes and then is swallowed by embarrassment. Restraining the desire to kiss her again, he cups the precious face. “What do you recall?”

  Blinking, Lilian shifts her gaze from his, skimming unseeing past her mother and sister. “We were returning from Flavia’s contrition. We were discussing cartel matters. A pattern began to form. It came too quickly. It was too large to grasp and too terrible to behold. It ate everything and left only darkness.”

  He tightens his embrace. Lilian’s eyes meet his, a flush rising on her cheeks. Can she be embarrassed by her friends and family witnessing their embrace? All the Twelve Systems know they lie together. As if hearing his thoughts, she tucks her head into his shoulder. Her fingers flick over her conservator’s seal. “If milord pleases, what has occurred?”

  What has occurred? As he struggles to form an answer, Katleen says, “You wore Adelaide’s eyes for over five minutes. The Shade was hurting you. Monsignor had to rouse you.”

  Lilian’s shoulders stiffen, her voice dry as she questions her sister. “Adelaide’s eyes?” Tilting her head to face him, she adds, “For some months Katleen has insisted that when I have an insight, my eyes change color.”

  Startled, he asks, “They have not always done so?”

  On those occasions when he has observed Lilian in thrall of an insight, her eyes have taken on that odd, pale hue. Chin believes it an illusion caused by her pupils contracting in an involuntary reflex. That it is a recent development is new information.

  “Milord has witnessed this?”

  She does not know. He runs his thumb along her hip. “As have Rebecca and Trevelyan, among others.”

  Katleen plucks the edge of the worn coverlet, her eyes flitting from him to her sister. “It is only since Lilian has sworn to it. Before she was consecrated, Lilian could refuse to listen if she could not bear it. Now she cannot.”

  With the hand hidden by their position, Lilian fists his tunic. “That cannot be possible.”

  Chrys steps forward. “It is true. Before you were consecrated, you would speak with yourself while within an insight. It was obvious you were unaware of your surroundings, but your aspect did not change.”

  Peeling Lilian’s fingers from her conservator’s seal, Lucius clasps her chilled fingers. Her insights ha
ve proven convenient, and after the revelation of the Despoilers, system altering. Whatever has just occurred, there are none more trustworthy than those in this chamber. “Lilian’s insights have benefited my cartouche and cartel, but direct communication with one of the Shades? Why would Adelaide own an interest in my moon race wagers or the victor in the Nightingale inscription race?”

  Trevelyan drops into a worn leather chair, pulling Helena into his lap. “Lilian’s odds management of Fletcher’s first moon trial put a very useful tool into Monsignor’s hand. One that Monsignor now employs to protect Lilian’s life.”

  “If Monsignor pleases,” Chrys steps forward, ruffling Katleen’s curls but making no other contact, “the first occasion I beheld Lilian with an insight, she was executing a training exercise. It involved the scrubber contracts for Desperation Refinery.”

  At Chrys’ words, Lilian shivers in his arms. That training exercise was the event that gave rise to Mercium. The synthetic Vistrite is, without question, system altering. The SEV1 Mercium variant is quite possibly history changing. Once again, Lucius is convinced that he and his disgraced prodigy are somehow at the center of powerful forces. That the forces continue to gather, even after the destruction of Damocles and his foul sect, is cause for concern.

  “Despoilers,” Rebecca says from behind Trevelyan’s chair. The daughter of a street doxy has risen to apprentice to cartel leadership due to her friendship with Lilian. “Adelaide’s voice made Lilian ill when the Despoilers were revealed, but Lilian returned. Why was Monsignor’s aid needed now?”

  “Lilian will not be foresworn,” Katleen says. “Monsignor’s bond claim requires Lilian to respond. As to why? I do not know.”

  “I am not ill,” Lilian says. “I weary of being discussed as if not present.”

  Grasping Lilian’s chin, he turns her face to his. Her eyes are clear, her lips pink. She no longer shivers, and her fingers are warm in his. It is not as when her insight revealed the Despoilers, the patterns causing head pain so severe it incapacitated her.

  “It is gone,” Lilian replies to his unspoken thoughts. “It was swallowed in the dark with everything else.”

  Running a thumb along her bottom lip again, he encourages her to continue. For all he cares, they could be alone. The position is familiar, curled together on a bed, the formality of commerce discarded in the aftermath of intense emotion. Lilian’s eyes soften in a manner that reveals she shares his sense of intimacy. “I am never able to analyze the whole, only pieces. The rest fades, as did the pattern that formed with Tabitha’s testimony. Usually I am saddened; there is so much to explore in the pattern. When Damocles’ pattern faded, I was relieved.”

  He is enthralled. It is so rare she can voice what comes with the insights. “Are you able to describe these patterns?”

  Blade-sharp intelligence flares as Lilian seeks a response. The hand fisting his tunic flattens against his back. “It is difficult. The inner workings of the universe are revealed in symbols that do not exist and cannot be rendered in three, let alone two dimensions. Imagine the complexity model for the Bright Star decision trial rendered in naught but the Bright Star code.”

  What says she? That trial is so complex it has astounded the master scholar that created the base algorithms. Simplified to a handful of symbols? It is beyond comprehension.

  The hand on his back moves, the fingers flicking his spine. “Now imagine that such is naught but a child’s attempt at basic addition when compared to the patterns that I am sometimes able to discern.”

  Lucius cannot breathe. He flexes the arm holding Lilian to him, his thumb grazing her jaw. In a few words, Lilian has evoked a marvel too large to grasp and too terrible to behold. It is a wonder the woman is not as deranged as her mother.

  Tenth bell chimes, breaking the spell. His deep breath is echoed throughout the chamber. He could send Chin to her, but the medic can do more if he has the equipment within the cartel. “Are you well enough, I would take you to Master Chin.”

  Her brows furrow and her lips compress. Why the woman resists Chin’s care is beyond him. Her response is obedient. “As milord wills. I will need but a moment to dress for commerce.”

  Rising from the bed, he straightens his jacket. “You need not change. You will not be remaining.”

  Rising with him, her eyes widen as she obviously searches for a response that will not be considered effrontery. As entertaining as it is to watch her navigate stricture, this day it will not serve. “It matters not if you feel well enough; the morning has overtried you. The only question is whether you return home for the day or several days. That will be Chin’s decision.”

  The Apprentice Protocol

  Apprentice Protocol

  1. The bonded will submit to and execute the bondholder’s will in all matters.

  2. The bonded will address the bondholder with deference and submission.

  3. The bonded will defend the bondholder’s estate, life, and honor by any method necessary unto the death of the bonded.

  4. The bonded will permit only the bondholder carnal access to the bonded.

  5. The bonded will engage in any and all carnal activities the bondholder requires.

  6. The bonded will not presume to know the bondholder’s will.

  7. The bonded will adhere to the letter and the spirit of the governing protocols.

  8. The bonded will not bear arms in the presence of the bondholder.

  9. The bonded will not speak unless addressed.

  10. The bonded will answer truly to any inquiry.

  11. The bonded will flank the bondholder at all times.

  12. The bonded will defer to and honor all of greater rank.

  13. The bonded will not complain.

  14. The bonded will respond to instruction without hesitation.

  15. The bonded will learn from observation and not require instruction.

  16. The bonded will offer contrition for transgressions.

  17. The bonded will accept and learn from correction.

  18. The bonded will not by voice or action slander or otherwise question the honor of the higher ranked.

  19. The bonded will behave with discretion.

  20. The bonded will present a modest demeanor.

  21. The bonded will execute its duties diligently and to the full of its abilities.

  22. The bonded will maintain a strong, healthy physique.

  23. The bonded will not overindulge in drink or other excess.

  24. The bonded will not wager or benefit from wagers.

  25. The bonded will honor all commerce commitments.

  26. The bonded will not engage in illicit commerce.

  27. The bonded will dedicate itself to acquiring the skills offered under the bond.

  Serengeti addendum

  28. The bonded will respect and honor the protocols and strictures of cartouche and cartel.

  29. The bonded will defend the wealth and honor of the cartouche unto death.

  30. The bonded will defend the wealth and honor of the cartel unto death.

  31. The bonded will accept the authority of the associate master or other delegate in the absence of the bondholder.

  32. The bonded will be permitted one and one half period of respite each commerce day.

  33. The bonded will limit respite to fifteen minutes except for one period between midday and first bell plus thirty.

  34. The bonded will not consume food or drink except within the designated sections of the cartel.

  35. The bonded will proceed at an orderly pace.

  36. The bonded will adhere to cartouche and cartel guidance in matters of garb.

  Devotional Litanies

  The Warriors’ Litany

  I am the sum of my ancestors.

  I am the foundation of my family.

  Honor is my blade and shield.

  Honor knows not fear.

  Honor endures.

  Honor acts as duty commands.

  The Warriors’ Litany�
��Archaic

  I am all that my family was.

  I am the stone laid for the future.

  Honor is both shield and blade.

  The honorable do not bend to fear.

  The honorable do not yield.

  The honorable accept duty’s scourge.

  Socraide’s Credo

  Self-master.

  Master desire. Master pain. Master pleasure. Mastery of body.

  Master fear. Master anger. Master joy. Mastery of mind.

  Master ambition. Master sorrow. Master affection. Mastery of spirit.

  Self-master.

  Universalist Acclamation

  We began as cosmic dust.

  We are formed from stellar glitter.

  The stellar is within and without. We are one.

  We are ephemeral and eternal.

  We end as we began and begin again.

  Cosmic dust.

  Militia Devotion

  May Socraide’s luck guide my aim.

  May Rimon’s wrath fire my resolve.

  May Mulan’s wisdom drive my strategy.

  May Jonathon’s honor strengthen my courage.

  May Sinead’s subtlety confound my enemies.

  Glossary of the Twelve Systems

  ~A~

  Adelaide Warleader: See Warleader, Adelaide.

  Acolyte: A junior prelate.

  Anarchy: The three centuries of warfare that almost destroyed the Three Systems that were the foundation of the Twelve Systems.

  Ancients: The founders of the Three Systems, a society lost in the Anarchy.

  Artesia: The third planet in the First System and the location of Mulan’s Temple.

  ~B~

  Ben Claude, Rimon: The Second Warrior. His dominion was the two habitable planets of the Second System.

  (The) Blade’s Point: Exclusive indulgence owned by Tiger Sylvester.

  ~C~

  Cartel: A powerful commercial interest that controls a significant aspect of commerce to the exclusion of all others.

 

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