The green was a hive of activity as Viky returned from her training. Cheerful multi-coloured banners strung between the colonnades competed with silky covers thrown over benches and an absurd number of aromatic candles. Isobeel had donated a stunning centrepiece of the buffet table, it resembled a waterfall and dominated the table to the exclusion of good taste. Moves-like-a-River had lent her Jiuliing Green crockery, each set was unique and replacement pieces were not available. Not exactly practical as eight of the sisters had toddlers. Alliis, Shaar’s life partner had folded napkins into a complicated structures that stood in a four-dimensional diorama. The sisterhood was going all out. Storm-blast. Now she would have to offer to help. Although this might be a good time to start her investigation and find out who had taken the body chains. After a quick change she slipped back to the green.
“Anything I can do to help?” Viky chose to approach Gabrieel, the woman was a model of efficiency, with any luck she would be so well organized the offer would be refused.
“Oh, sorry, and who are you again?” Gabrieel didn't bother looking up.
“Is it your eyesight, or memory that is troubling you? I have heard both can go in old age.”
“Was that supposed to be funny? Forgive me if I don't laugh, But I'm too busy with two children and being a responsible member of society.”
Someone had got off the wrong side of the couch this morning.
“Fine I'll go ask Jess. And you wonder why I don’t like spending time with the sisterhood.”
“The time to offer to help would have been within the last nine days, when we could have delegated you a job. Not merely hands-breaths from midday.”
“That may be true, but then I would have had to have been invited before midday yesterday. It's a bit hard to volunteer to help with something you don't know anything about.”
Viky stalked off feigning the power of indifference.
***
The rustle of parchments, scent of leather, soft scratching of quills and tranquil ambience of hushed voices relaxed Dereniik. Scrolls, codex’s, palimpsest’s, tomes, tapestries, textiles, and stone; all just waiting to be explored. The capital’s library boasted the largest repertoire of recorded knowledge under the Auroa. Representations of literature from all parts of the Coalition and even cultures no longer in existence, all catalogued and preserved.
“My Lord, this humble servant is pleased to present you with the text you requested.” The calm elderly D’char addressed Dereniik with a warm smile as they bowed and passed the rolled-up bundle of narrow bamboo strips bound with tough plant fibre.
“Thank you, Chen, your efforts are greatly appreciated. Do you read Xianees?”
“No, my Lord this lowly one does not possess that skill. Is the text to your satisfaction?”
The complicated knot had been loosened and unfurling the first few hands breaths exposed flowing script etched along each length.
“Yes absolutely. But if you cannot read the language, how did you know this was the volume I requested? I can't imagine any literature in Xianees is in high demand.”
Chen bobbed his bald head. “This is truth my Lord, but your humble servant Dei has knowledge of the language and in an endeavour to offer pleasing service, this one was consulted.”
Dereniik grinned. If he had still believed in the God of Good Luck, he would have thanked Quellion.
“I requested this text to refresh my knowledge of the language, although Xianees architecture does include many fascination features, would Dai be available to consult with me at this time?”
Chen’s face broke into an even broader smile. “My Lord, it is always a pleasure to serve you.”
Taking the required three back steps the servant turned smartly and hurried away. Dereniik searched his memory, he thought he knew all of those that served at the library. Dai, was unknown, perhaps they were new, a young servant just starting training.
Settling into a comfortable position on the couch Dereniik traced the familiar script. Adjusted himself further so a servant could sit by his side. It had been a full rotation since his last contact with the language and the chance of needing to use it again was slight. But with all skills, if you didn’t use them, you lost them. With clustered consonants, seven different noun cases, base 20 numbers and unique writing system that looks like something out of daydream, Dereniik had invested too much time mastering the language to just let it go. Of course, he had been given a head start, and a blue Cognition enhancing fractal, but without dedication and application any gift or talent could be squandered.
Brow furrowed with concentration Dereniik had read several strips before ponderous footsteps alerted him to another's approach. Glancing up he watched the D’char’s advance with interest.
Dia was Xianees. Dereniik disguised his surprise under a welcome smile. Hadn't known there were any Xianees people at the capital. The servant was of middle rotations, muscular and heavy set, large angular shoulders and bearing the impression of a hooked back. They were not a hunched back of course, the extra skeletal structure connected to the scapular was completely normal for a person of his decent. Not as dark in colouring as most of the Xianees people, probably only one of the servants’ parentals had come from the region, but even as a bald D’char the feline features were unmistakable.
Dereniik’s heart went out to the servant. The Modern iteration of the Coalition had existed for over 200 rotations, his home city of Hunnaal being the last great city to submit to its authority over one-hundred and seventy rotations ago. The collection of independent cities in the region of Xiaan refused to acquiesce. Cut off from commerce, trade agreements and power enhancing fractals, regular incursions instigated by the Coalition whittled away the region’s natural resources. Dereniik had grown up hearing complicated political reasonings, propaganda, misinformation, and blatant prejudice against the people. Any truths had been long buried before Dereniik entered the world.
“My Lord, this one is called Dai, you have requested my service?”
“Yes, thank you for your compliance in being willing to see me. I wish to refresh my knowledge of Xianees, but as it is the language of your heart and heritage, this is a request, not a command.” Dereniik made the hand signal for respect and hoped his words would be taken as sincere. Realistically no servant could ever refuse any reasonable request from a Commander, but Dereniik wanted to dignify the servant. God's light, Dai, like all D’char was hairless, akin to rape from the Xianees cultural perspective.
A new factor became evident in Dia’s expression. A contemplative summing up. Did he guess? Dereniik hadn’t plucked between his eyebrows for a while, but they were a single double arch, not multiple striped hair lines sloping up his forehead into the hairline. He was tall, but a few races were, dark tan skin indicating mixed ancestry. After two hundred rotations of intentionally mixing the first families from the major Cities of the world, most Commanders were of mixed heritage. His high forehead indicated a forefather from Chinquaar but most of his damning Xianees physical characteristics, the hair line down his back, protrusions from his scapular and stripes across abdominals and chest, were hidden under skirt, cowl, and a ponytail only slightly longer than regulation length.
“My Lord, it would be a pleasure to converse with you in Xianees. Do you have a specific dialect in mind.” Dai spoke without an accent.
Dereniik grinned, “I have worked in the Snshin region of the Twenty-six Hills and among the people of the Mivrb, do you know the dialect this text was scripted in?”
“My Lord, the script diverges very little as we are all bound by the same sacred text, and it is copied letter by letter by each of us before becoming an adult.”
“The sacred text, are you referring to the Venetiaan prophecies?” Dereniik was aware Xianees valued the written word, and both men and women were literate, which not a constant among many other peoples. Understanding the reasoning behind this Xianees custom made sense, they were a deeply spiritual people.
“Of course, my Lord.”
Interesting, would the prophecies make sense in Xianees? He was not aware of a translation into Common, and the one he had read in Huun had used an archaic variation of the language. Fluent at speaking Chinquaar but less able with the written word he had once had the opportunity to hear one of the prophecies read in that language. The difference it made to his level of comprehension had been profound.
“What dialect are you most fluent with?” Dereniik asked.
Dai considered the question. “This servant speaks Mivrb, but it is corrupted with a Common accent.”
Dereniik was relived. “That will be wonderful. Please make yourself comfortable and let’s get started.”
“My Lord, it is this humble servant’s pleasure to be of assistance to you. But to assist you to the full extent may this one humbly inquire the purpose of the exercise?” Dai asked.
Dereniik didn't have an answer. The chance of him ever having to use the language again was so slight it bordered on impossible. The exercise had no meaning because his life had no meaning. And he wasn't ever going to tell anyone that the language reminded him of being a small child in his mother's arms enjoying crib songs as he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t required to answer, his rank gave him authority to have the D’char beaten for even asking the question.
“I enjoy language. An activity does not have to serve a purpose to bring pleasure.” Dereniik answered.
Dai accepted his comment, they may have been hoping for more, but Dereniik had said enough.
***
With little time for research Viky felt ill prepared for the Memorial. The initial disappointment as women from outside the sisterhood started to arrive was replaced with relief. With more people present, less would be expected of her.
Viky placed the Desiree wraps along with other offerings on a table spread with shimmering damask cloth.
“Oh, thank you. They are one of my favourites.” Maddie’s eyes already glistened with tears; Viky was not surprised.
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“Yeah, sure.” Viky didn’t know what else to say. Maddie had a motive, she wanted to get back to her mother and that would need finances. How could she introduce the topic? Nope, too late, Maddie turned away to greet Lady Briziit and her twin adult daughters.
Tushii raised an eyebrow and the corner of her mouth. “Well, done. Didn’t know you could be so thoughtful.”
“How would you have done it?” Viky blurted out.
Tushii looked even further down her nose. “I presume you are talking about the theft?”
“Of course.”
“Easiest thing in the world. Just wait until no one was around, walk in and take them. But I couldn’t directly lie to Jess without her knowing so it would be spectacularly stupid for me to have stolen them.” Tushii continued with a shrug of her beautiful shoulders. “And Jess is far from the only person with the ability to recognize Truth and Lies.”
Viky nodded. Her mother had warned her never to lie to a Godmother. But Tushii knew about Blocking. And was far from stupid. And she had thought out how to commit the crime.
“Do you think the jewellery has been stolen to sell or for personal beautification?” Viky had memorised Dereniik’s questions.
“To sell. Nobody but a Hunn royal descendant would be able to wear it. But selling it would present its own problems. The thief would have been better off stealing something of less value. Something easier to sell. I don't see how they could get a buyer for the body chains.”
“How would you get a buyer for any stolen goods?” Viky asked.
Tushii gave her a critical stare. “I have no idea. I imagine it could be done if you didn't live in the capital under the constant scrutiny of the most powerful Godmothers and Commanders under the Aurora. There is a black market in most of the other cities.”
“Black markets?”
Tushii rolled her eyes. “Places for selling contraband.”
“Like mind altering substances or fractals?”
“Don’t know about fractals, but drugs certain, medicines, and birth control.”
Viky had the distinct impression that Tushii enjoyed seeing her squirm. Stormblast the woman.
“Have you ever sold anything at a black market?”
There was just a slight change in Tushii’s posture. Viky wasn't even sure exactly what it was. Did she stiffen her spine, or just inhaled out of rhythm? Tushii looked down her elegant nose, a picture of perfect equanimity, but she hadn't liked the question and Viky wasn't sure she was going to get an answer. When the reply came it was crafted with care.
“Disposing of items for sale need not be carried out by a Lady, one has servants to do such things. So, no I have not ever sold anything at a market, black or otherwise.”
“But you have had servants sell things in your behalf?”
“On occasion, but that is really none of your business.”
“What sort of things have you sold, or had your servants sell?”
“That question goes beyond the limits of polite conversation, particularly for someone who has made no effort to endear themselves or become a friend.”
Tushii wasn't offended, she could have even been amused. Viky wasn't sure, she was going to have to try and be more subtle. Not one of her stronger personality traits.
“Oh no. Has Tiyloor brought her giddle?” Tushii’s eyebrows rose to her hairline.
Viky resisted screwing up her nose and nodded. There was a giddle strung over Tiyloor’s back, the question was redundant. Why did people ask questions when the answer was obvious?
“Well, good luck with your investigating. It looks like everyone's arrived; I'd better talk to Maddie about this latest development.”
With the appropriate hand signal and a smirk, the tall woman took her leave. All things considered Viky thought things could have gone worse, but she didn't know how. She couldn’t eliminate Tushii from her depressing long list of suspects and had revealed her own ignorance. Vicki looked around for an easier person to interrogate.
Moves-like-a-River and Jess were quietly conversing with Tiyloor, the latter a frequent visitor to the sisterhood. Or more precisely Tiyloor was chatting, as River and Jess listened. Their conversations dripped with familial nostalgia. Had they known each other before coming to Chruciaal?
The twins, Sheeli and Shaar, together with their respective offspring and a servant cut across the green to join the group. They were terse and uncommunicative at the best of times, Viky thought tackling them together would be unproductive. The sisters established themselves on couches next to each other and waved their offspring off to play with the other little girls under the watchful eyes of Gabreel’s servant.
Isobeel was flirting with the only male guests. Viky had not met the older Commander whose bearing spoke of authority, and whose life partner possessively clung to his elbow. Jeileen had introduced her to the other man, Senior Commander Faizaan. Was he wearing make up? Connected with the men’s continuing training the Commander was over middle aged but moved with the agility and power of an alpha predator.
A couple of older women, Lady Skandyya and Lady Flower-of-the-Dawn chatted with Gabreel as she nursed her baby. Viky had yet to commit the baby’s name to memory but was sure it was a boy. Her new D’char supervised a group of little girls and a plethora of stuffed toys animals. It didn’t seem right to talk to a woman while she was feeding a newborn, let alone interrogator her. Gabreel was going to be hard to talk to. Not just because she was hard to talk too, but the kid was always feeding or involving his mother with some other messy body function.
Tushii cleared her throat and started proceedings by extending a warm welcome. Under the colonnades on the green the sedate group settled. Viky went to stand unobtrusively at the back where she could observe, while minimizing personal involvement.
Tushii launched into a short song/poem, reciting to the beat of a melodic drum she struck with her thumbs.
You never danced in great halls,
But whispered on gentle winds.
None praised your beauty or lauded your name,
Few but I your tender love could claim.
When you ceased the Evergreen still grew,
God’s light still shone, and days dragged long.
Pain in my heart, my head and eyes.
I disguise with false smiles, platitudes, lies.
A mote of colour breeze tossed and tumbled,
Moments and memories immobile by time.
Bubbles of laughter, light and water,
If you no longer exist am I still your daughter?
Tushii’s clear voice fell silent before a smattering of polite fingers tapped wrists in subdued applauses. Vicky was unfamiliar with both the author and the meter of the verse, but human emotion resonated in every civilization and the authenticity of genuine loss echoed across cultural divides and into her sorrowing heart.
People of the Rifts didn’t have sophisticated morning rituals and the straightforward no-nonsense attitudes of her people were considered simplistic by the standards of the rest of the world. Her parentals had left to attempt a rescue after a cave-in obliterated a small settlement a day’s ride further down a side canyon off The Rift. It had been too dangerous to locate Viky’s parentals bodies after a second cave-in claimed their lives. With no physical remains for a funeral pyre the Whip Makers clan Godmothers had arranged a bonfire and for the laments to be sung. Her Parentals had been honoured in life, whatever awaited after death was out of the hands of the living.
Life moved on. Even when it didn’t.
Maddie rose to speak. Her tearful words extolled the virtues of her parent and were what Viky expected from the young woman. Not eloquent, or well thought out, but benevolent and sincere. Her parent may have been a mass murder, the instigator of civil unrest or a madman, but from Maddie’s perspective, he was perfect. Well good on her. If Viky’s parent had ever been accused of any wrongdoing, she would have defended him. But he had been careful, taken his secrets and crimes to the grave without suspicion. Viky had only become aware of some of his indiscretions in the last rotations of his life. Of course, training her was socially unacceptable, but the flagrant disobedience, although understandable, would have been harder to defend.
The old Commander spoke next. Words dry as parchment and boring the way no manuscript could ever be. He had trained Maddie's parent as a young man. He told a few anecdotes, not funny, and from the look in Jess’s face not all Truth. Unknown places and unimportant people were monologued about without modulation.
A couple of the little girl-children determined exploration or adventure was necessary for their continued happiness. Mothers, equally tenacious, undertook to instruct their daughters in the art of respectful reverence, the results were mixed, but Viky became one of the quietest members of the audience. Herald be praised the old man didn’t have an Endurance fractal and eventually ran out of breath.
Jess and Tiyloor took the stage. Viky inwardly groaned, Tiyloor must have loved self-humiliation. The ‘Lament of the Power Wars,’ was followed by an unexciting rendition of ode “To Sorrow.” Variations of the ‘Lament’ had become popular in every culture, but the second song was new to Viky. Or she couldn’t recognize the tune with so many glaring blunders. The Giddle playing had microscopically improved since the last senses insulting session, but Jess sang with skill, and emotions Viky had never have expected the insipid woman possessed.
Jess had layers, hidden passions. Could she be the thief? Of course, if she was, the simplest thing in the world would be for her to frame one of the sisters. She could say she was using her gift with Truth and Lies and choose a patsy. Isobeel and Tushii would believe her. It wouldn't stand up under the scrutiny from one of the Godmothers but perhaps that was why she didn't want them involved. Only that would take courage and Vicky had yet to see Jess display anything resembling a backbone. And there was that small minor technical detail: Jess hadn’t accused anyone of the theft.
Lady Briziit rose to speak. Viky didn’t know her well, but the woman offered kind word to all. She was impressive, confident, and maternal. At a first glance she did not appear brilliant, and twittered annoyingly as was the socially acceptable fashion for women of station. But when she thought you were not looking, an astute observer could notice her eyes were thoughtful and shrewd. Her soliloquy theorized the merit of suffering to facilitating personal improvement. The older woman spoke from experience, of personal tragedy, losing not only one but two young sons. Vicki considered the sentiments complete garbage, but they were pleasantly expressed.
Formalities over Tushii invited all to enjoy refreshments and thanked everyone for their attendance.
Vicky found herself next to Lady Briziit’s first-born daughter Marwaan at the refreshment table, a small Jiuliing Green plate in one hand and a sweet treat with a bite out of it in the other.
“Are there any good?” Viky asked.
“Oh yes, Jess makes these, and they are delicious.”
Viky picked up a plate and selected one for herself.
“I'm surprised you haven't had them before; Jess is always bringing them to Isobeel's.”
Viky took a bite, with a mouthful she wasn't expected to answer, and a shrug of indifference was an acceptable response.
“I heard congratulations are in order,” the young woman chuckled. “Your sisterhood will be leaving us soon.”
Vicky eyed her cynically; the sweet treats weren't large, and she had unfortunately finished her mouthful. “If you are referring to my pregnancy then your information is correct. But I hardly think it is an achievement worthy of congratulation. It is after all a simple biological process requiring no intelligence and very little skill by either participant.”
Marwaan frowned. “But it's the correct thing to say.”
“Only because everyone keeps saying it.” Viky resorted.
“And you are already sick of hearing it? Don't worry nobody says anything after you've had three or four children.” Lady Briziit joined the conversation.
“That was a very fine speech mother,” Marwaan said.
“Yes, darling and I would be disappointed if you didn't comment appropriately.” Briziit twitted, gracing her daughter with a smile.
Vicki grinned. “I considered your words to be eloquent and thoughtful but disagree with the sentiment that trials and troubles make you a better person. Plenty of people suffer and don't or can't learn anything from the situation. Some individuals even become worse people, hardened, bitter, or resentful.”
Lady Briziit pondered her words and gave a nod and genuine chuckle before turning to select more pastries to fill an already overloaded plate. She must have skipped breakfast.
“Speaking from personal experience, are you?”
Vicki turned to face Gabrieel. She was older than the others in the Sisterhood and the most liberal at dispensing unsolicited advice. Everyone in the sisterhood endured her caustic or borderline passive aggressive attitude but when talking with Viky she tended to drop any pretext of congeniality or adherence to lady-like manners.
“Lady Gabrieel my apologies I did not see you there, or realize you were involved in my discussion with Lady Brigitte.”
“I am a free woman, it's my right to comment where I see fit. You have no difficulty expressing your opinions, why shouldn't I?”
Viky shrugged, there was no baby in sight, may as well get her interview over and done with. “Do you have an opinion on how Isabella's body chains went missing?”
“I'm so glad you asked.” Gabrieel's words dripped with sarcasm. “I think the person most likely to have taken them is someone with no consideration for the thoughts or feelings of others. Someone selfish, aloof, and who doesn't belong.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, but then, you can turn any form of speech into something offensive.”
“And you would know, because you are an expert on the subject.”
Not a bad come-back, but Gabrieel’s next word displayed her insecurity.
“You had better give the chains back, my grandmother is a Godmother and if she were here, she would expose you as the slimy mould we all know you are.”
“I haven’t taken the chains; your grandmother isn’t here, and I was told resorting to insults is beneath the dignity of a Lady. So, I will leave.”
“You know very one makes fun of you behind your back.”
“That’s because they know what I would do to them if they did it to my face.”
Gabrieel had run out of smart comebacks, which was good because Viky had as well and was now feeling guilty that she had let the other woman wind her up. After all, she was an adult, just because Gabrieel didn't want to treat her as one didn't give her an excuse to retaliate.
Viky squared her shoulders, stood as tall as her limited height permitted and turned. It didn't matter what Gabrieel thought. She was as unimportant as any of the other sisters. Vicki didn't need her friendship, had never liked the woman, or sought her company. Her words were confirmation of universal truth. People hurt you, investing time in them would only break your heart. Viky was no fool, she wasn’t going to allow her heart to be broken ever again.