The Cartel

by E G Manetti

  “Peace, Lilian. It was not ill done.” The distress in Lilian’s voice causes Lucius a moment’s pang as he reassures her, “carefully used, teeth can be very pleasant, as you should well know.”

  Confused and wary, Lilian tentatively inquires, “Milord, am I permitted to –”

  “You are most definitely, permitted,” Lucius assures his apprentice disliking her wariness and knowing he is the source. As speculation enters Lilian’s eyes, Lucius grins inwardly. This next should please her, “For the moment, you will be more comfortable in a change of garb. As for me, as fetching as you are in black, it does grow wearisome.”

  Change of garb?

  Milord has her hand and is leading her to the bedchamber. Arranged on the console table are several silk wraps. Milord's will is as inexplicable this night as it was the Fifth Day past. Fifth Day past? Has it truly been so long? She turns to inquire about the traitor search to be halted by a raised finger.

  “We will discuss it soon. I have arranged a meal. For now, know you how to execute a sarong?” Milord’s inquires.

  Confounded by milord’s unprecedented consideration, Lilian offers a wordless nod. Milord’s will is as welcome as it is astonishing.

  After dropping a light kiss on her lips, milord instructs, “Select one for use. As much as it would please me to have you dine me with unclad, it will not serve. You chill too easily. I will await you without.”

  This mist green wrap covers the tops of Lilian’s breasts then clings to them like a caress. The shimmering fabric drops to her hips to highlight the gentle sway before cascading to mid-thigh. As Lilian walks toward him, Lucius notes how the color brings out the creamy tones in her skin and darkens the heavy waves of hair until they are almost black. A few damp tendrils about her face indicate that Lilian has made brief use of the shower.

  As Lilian settles into her chair to his left, Lucius pours a glass of wine from a bottle resting in a bucket. He then proceeds to serve them from the hot and cold dishes. While they dine, Lucius relates Master Trevelyan’s findings and plans.

  “There is naught else to be done but wait for the next attempt?” Lilian’s words echo Lucius’ frustration.

  “Trevelyan indicates so. The traitor has left no trail, so we must wait for another attempt to spring our trap.” Rising from the table, Lucius leads Lilian back to the bedchamber.

  In the dim light, milord eases Lilian into the center of the bed and leans over her, carefully releasing the knot and folds of the concealing sarong. Lying on the open sarong, Lilian stretches languidly and gazes up at the compelling man looming over her. Milord is gazing down the length of her form, considering her.

  Slowly, gently, one large, strong hand begins above her left knee and glides up the skin of her thighs, across her pelvic bone, belly and rib cage to rest a hairsbreadth below the curve of her breast. The motion is repeated, and repeated. Sometimes the hand turns to glide knuckles across her belly to her right side and just below her right breast.

  The gentle, persistent teasing causes Lilian’s breath to catch, her hips to writhe a little. She begins to reach out a hand to pull that taunting touch to what she wishes to have touched. Instead, her hand captured by milord’s to be pulled gently and firmly above her head.

  Milord does not speak. Milord’s will is clear. Lilian surrenders the other wrist to that strong grasp. Milord lies beside her, touching her only to hold her wrists and to continue the gentle torment that is causing her breath to catch, her body to writhe.

  “Please, milord, please.” Milord lowers his head for a kiss. It is naught but a brief pressure. His breath is against hers. His soft words are spoken into her parted lips. “Show me, Lilian. Show me your release. I would view it.”

  Muddled by passion, it is a moment before Lilian comprehends the request. The shock of it stills her and the rising tide of desire retreats. Milord smiles as he insists, “When you are ready.”

  The tantalizing teasing continues, rebuilding her need, pushing her to a place of desperation until finally she can bear it no longer and nods. Her wrists are released and milord settles at the edge of the bed with one last caress.

  Lilian’s eyes flutter shut, one hand moves toward her sex, to her aching jewel. Her mind searches for a memory, a catalyst to help her find the much needed release. The image that comes to mind is now months old, that first night:

  Releasing her hands, milord grasps her hips, lifting, tilting her until her opening is angled toward the rod standing straight, dark and swollen. Her back arched, she gazes up the length of her prone body to the strong torso above her and erection about to enter her. The head strokes across her opening. Taunting, drawing forth a small, involuntary sound from her.

  The dark length enters her slowly. She is wet and ready, her sex swollen with need. Her abdomen contracts, her channel tightens as the full length of milord slides into her. Milord’s olive skin contrasts starkly with her paleness as he pulls back and slides forward. Fascinated, Lilian watches the slow, rhythmic movement of milord’s sex in and out of her body.

  With a sudden rush, Lilian’s release breaks free and her busy fingers cease to tease, pressing instead, as if to hold her together as the pleasure tears through her.

  From the shadows milord softly demands, “Who, Lilian?”

  “Milord!” the strangled response is half whispered.

  Softly again, milord insists, “Lilian, answer me, who do you see when you attain your release?”

  “I understood the question, milord, and I answered it,” is the equally soft reply.

  Milord comes to her out of the shadows, his robe slipping away. He is aroused and beautiful. Milord gathers her to him so they are touching from shoulder to hip, legs intertwined. He kisses her as he gently slides into her. The end, when it comes to Lilian is a series of gently rolling aftershocks to the earthquakes that preceded them.

  Chapter 18: Ritual and Protocol

  The Twelve Systems’ commercial, spiritual and civil authorities evolved from the alliances and treaties among the Five Warriors and their retainers. Their genetic descents are the First Families, the warrior elite who control the Cartels, the Shrines and the Governing Council.

  The majority of the inhabitants of the Twelve Systems follow the warrior class in its devotion to the Shades of the Five Warriors. The Shades are believed to provide mystical support and aid to those they find worthy. Each of the Five Warriors has his or her own sect. The sects’ practices are based in the philosophy, history and martial arts of the specific warrior as recorded in the Canons.

  The power of the Shrines does not equal that of the Cartels. The Shades’ Prelates, the sect leaders, hold considerable authority. When Lilian’s life hung in balance, Socraide’s Prelate favored execution undermining Lucius’ considerable influence. When Sinead’s Prelate added his authority to that of Lucius’ and Dean Joseph, the balance shifted to the lesser penalty of Trial by Ordeal.

  When Lucius succeeds in elevating Serengeti to third among cartels, he will claim the rank of Socraide’s Lord Patron. To be a Sect Patron carries significant personal and commercial benefit. It also holds considerable influence over the actions of the Shade’s Prelate.

  Among the warriors, children are dedicated to the service of one of the Five Warriors in the year after their fourth birth anniversary. The dedication is not considered consecrated until twenty years later when the adult comes to the Shrine to rededicate.

  Among the common orders, a sect or devotion is chosen in the sixteenth year. The devoted take their spiritual guidance from the warrior’s canons and discipline. They have no genetic claim.

  Sevenday 12, Day 2

  “My thanks, Chrys. This will suffice for the initial models. It will require a sevenday to complete the framework. Then we will be able to examine alternate strategies for production costs.” Chrys and Lilian are once again seated at the console tables in the Synthetics Lab where they are developing projections for fabrication.

  Stretching, Lilian turns to an
other topic, “Chrys how well do you know the River Quarter? It has been some years since I visited there. Does it remain a pleasant area?”

  “It is so. The shops and restaurants along the riverfront draw from all over the city. Most of the residents are among the more successful members of the common orders. Have you thoughts to visit?” Chrys finds the notion of Lilian enjoying leisure captivating.

  “Yes, it is the season for my consecration to Adelaide Warleader. There is a Fourth Warrior Shrine in that district with an appropriate Adelaide Alcove.” Lilian has considered the situation for several sevendays. There is no honorable alternative. She must complete the devotion. She requires an escort and there is none other than Chrys that she may ask.

  Although she no longer holds warrior status, having been dedicated, Lilian cannot be undedicated. She is bound by tradition and faith to consecrate the bond with a rededication made of her own free will.

  “I did not know one could be dedicated to Adelaide Warleader. I thought it was only the Five Warriors that accepted the dedication of their descendants and their retainers’ descendants.” Devoted to the Fourth Warrior, Chrys has studied the subject of dedication. There is a difference between study and experience as they both know.

  “It is a small sect, but supported within the canons. Adelaide has her own Quintet in the Fourth Warrior’s Canon. It is not a prestigious sect. There was some controversy when I was dedicated to her,” Lilian explains.

  “How so?” Chrys is ever curious about both Lilian and the ways of the warriors.

  It is a reasonable inquiry and Lilian has no right to refuse as she wishes Chrys’ aid. Leaning against a console, Lilian regards the far wall of the windowless chamber. “I was intended for the Fourth Warrior. At that time I was the eldest and only offspring of the newly formed Grey Gyre Cartouche. It was my duty to demonstrate our loyalty to, and descent from, the house of Jonathan Metricelli. It was to have been an elaborate ritual.”

  Releasing her regard of the wall, Lilian searches her friend’s face. Fascinated, Chrys nods his understanding. Lilian has never yielded so much before this. The ritual must be extremely important to her.

  Lilian continues, “Apparently, I became bored and wandered off. They eventually found me in the Adelaide Alcove. I was seated in the lap of the effigy happily singing to myself and playing with her warbelt. The Keeper decided that Adelaide had called me to her. They dedicated me as I sat there. By the time anyone else knew what went forward, it was too late. What was done could not be undone.”

  Lilian pauses for a moment. Chrys knows her well enough to recognize that she is struggling with strong emotion. Her tone, more than her words, reveals that the emotion may well be amusement. “I do not recall it, but I understand there was quite a spectacle.”

  Chrys can well imagine the ire of any parents at having an elaborate plan overset by a wandering child. Certain he is mistaken about Lilian’s amusement Chrys probes, “Your parents were displeased?”

  There is grim humor in Lilian’s response, “Remus Gariten was beyond displeased. I am told my mother laughed. If for no other reasons than those, I would honor Adelaide Warleader and complete my consecration. The twentieth anniversary of my dedication date approaches. I must make the arrangements within the next three sevendays.”

  Lilian rarely speaks of either of her parents. In those few words, Chrys ascertains that Lilian’s love for her mother is as profound as her contempt for her father. There is more at play here than anger over black commerce and her fall into ruin. Chrys voices none of his thoughts. Instead, he offers his support, “Do you wish it, I will be pleased to provide escort. I have declared devotion to the Fourth Warrior.”

  Chrys is not only able to provide safe escort, but is a spiritually auspicious escort for an Adelaide adherent.

  “Thank you, Chrys, it will be welcome. There are a few aspects of the ritual I must explain. As escort you will be required to assist.” Lilian intended to request the technologist’s assistance before she knew of his spiritual leanings. Now she is doubly pleased.

  Sevenday 14, Day 7

  By canon and custom, Five Warrior Rituals are open to the public. They are to be witnessed by any with interest in the Will of the Shades. At dedication, the Warrior’s Mark is drawn in henna on a four-year old child. A true tattoo is incised at consecration. Each Mark is different, reflecting the canon of the sect. All are located somewhere on the torso requiring the consecrated be bared to the waist.

  The apprentice protocol does not contain a specific stricture prohibiting Lilian from exposing her breasts in a public forum. There is no question in Lilian’s mind that it will be contrary to milord’s will. With Chrys’ aid, she plans to honor both the Will of the Shades and milord’s.

  Lilian’s elaborate dedication ritual at the Garden Center Warrior Ring was intended to display the commercial success, as well as the spiritual commitment, of the now defunct Grey Gyre cartouche. For consecration, Lilian has rejected the prestigious Garden Center Ring. Her notoriety will quickly turn a spiritual observance into a public spectacle and a hostile one. At the minor River Quarter Ring she anticipates light traffic early in the day and none who recognize her.

  There is a hint of moisture in the air as Lilian descends to the courtyard to find her mother and Katleen waiting. The dry season is drawing to a close and soon the rains will set in. Katleen will accompany Lilian and Chrys while maman is escorted to Sinead’s Shrine for her Seventh Day activities.

  Lilian offered no dispute when Sinead’s Keeper insisted that Lilian undergo consecration without the witness of her mother. The reclusive Seer becomes easily distressed outside the environs of her home and the Garden Center Shrine. Nor will Lilian lightly quarrel with the Keeper.

  The prior Seventh Day Lilian exited the house for what had become a regular Seventh Day routine of defacement removal. To her shock, Helena joined her. At Lilian’s remonstrance, the Seer shrugged and remarked, “It is a great deal pleasanter to apply pigment than to remove it.”

  The Shrine’s informants proved astoundingly effective. Before a period completed, the Keeper and her Discipline Master arrived with a half dozen acolytes. At the Keeper’s insistence, Helena and Lilian returned to the house while the Shrine attendants dealt with the defacement. This past sevenday the Shrine did not wait until Seventh Day. The defacement appeared Fourth Day and was removed Fifth Day. The Shrine’s point is unequivocal. The Seer shall not be shamed. Sinead’s Shrine is watching.

  For the ceremony Lilian has donned Adelaide’s battle dress and colors. It is the same black ensemble of loose trousers and sleeveless tunic she uses for training. Designed for maximum mobility in battle, the top requires no bra. Support and restraint are built in. On Lilian’s hips rests a slender belt of black leather from which hang a number of small silver coins and her thorn.

  The thorn is a small blade. It is three sided, six inches of slender steel in a worked copper hilt that retains thin traces of what was once silver inlay. It is designed for close quarters combat and is easily concealed. Apprentices and commoners are forbidden arms in general. Any inhabitant of the Twelve Systems has the right to carry a personal blade of no more than six inches.

  To Lilian’s wonder, Sinead’s Shrine Keeper collects Helena this Seventh Day. To her amazement, the Keeper presents Lilian with a black belt similar to the one she is wearing. The Keeper’s is adorned with gold coins. “Lilian, present this offering to Adelaide Warleader on behalf of Sinead Standingbear.”

  “The Fifth Warrior’s graciousness will be known today by all devoted to Adelaide Warleader.” With the formal response, Lilian places the second belt above the first.

  To Lilian’s relief, maman greets Chrys with no more than a few mumbled remarks about a gathering of ravens. With Chrys’ arrival, Sinead’s devoted escort the Shade Ridden woman from Katleen’s house followed by Lilian’s party.

  Katleen is visibly impressed by Chrys. Unlike his cartel wear, Chrys’ soft blue-gray tunic and trousers compl
iment his coloring and the red-gold highlights in his hair while displaying his strong physique. As custom demands, as chaperone, the young girl takes position between the two ravens in the mile-by-miler. The battered transport makes the short journey in less than half the time required by public transport. Katleen glows when Chrys gallantly hands her from the conveyance at the main entrance to the Warrior Ring.

  The Shrine of the Fourth Warrior is a square, well proportioned stone edifice surrounded by a small park and backed by the river. As tradition demands, it is neighbored by the Shrine of the Fifth Warrior to the south and the First Warrior to the north. The Adelaide Alcove will be found on the north face of the structure, facing Socraide’s Shrine.

  If not for the drop of Lilian’s warrior queue, Trevelyan would not have noticed the trio. The dark red queue of hair hanging down the black covered back is a familiar sight in an unusual location. It focuses the spymaster’s attention immediately. He follows the small group as they enter the Warrior Ring and subsequently the Fourth Warrior’s Shrine.

  To Trevelyan’s surprise, Lilian and her companions bypass the central devotional section to approach a small door in the north wall where they are greeted by a prelate garbed in black and crimson. Trevelyan cannot fathom the departure from Shrine decorum or the reason for the oddly colored vestments. The Fourth Warrior’s colors are hunter green highlighted with gold. He is fairly certain that the prelate who greets Lilian and her party is a senior prelate. In that he is correct, it is the Alcove Keeper. Positioning himself so he can see into the Alcove, Trevelyan settles in to watch events unfold.

  The Alcove is a semi-circular construction that protrudes from the Shrine. At shoulder height the walls are sectioned with slender, unglazed openings approximately two feet wide by five feet tall. Trevelyan’s soldier’s eyes immediately positions fire-armed warriors at each slit.