Less than a nine-day ago Dereniik had considered the walk to the Directives Committee Offices beyond his capabilities. It was a stretch, and he was tired beyond belief when he reached the ornately carved entry, but the accomplishment of this simple task made the effort worthwhile. Resting on the corner of a plinth supporting a Amaranthaan Water sculpture inlaid with seams of black opal, his goal was within reach for the first time in eleven months.
Commander Lentoon was still manning the front reception desk. Still wearing a close-cropped head of lilac hair, roundish features, and determined expression. Typical for a Commander from the Elimleech region but the look of rebellious conviction in his eyes was different, and the reason why a man of his experience sat at reception desk and was not a Commissioned field officer. Dereniik had never been explicitly informed of the misdemeanour resulting in this circumstance, but the rest of his team was still actively Commissioned, and that was unusual. How did he cope with the isolation? At least he was still active and employed.
“I thought you were dead.” Lentoon said with a smile.
“And you missed my funeral pyre? After all the rotations we've known each other?”
“I guess so, didn’t think about that. You look a mess.”
“I was told women loved a guy with a few scars, thought I'd try it out.”
“How's that working out for you?” Lentoon chuckled.
“About how you'd expect. Beauty is a disposable asset.” Dereniik answered with a straight face.
“That why you’re wearing a gem on your cowl?”
Dereniik sighed. The gem was the head of a nine pin, practical as it kept his cowl from gaping over the stump of his arm. He was also bound to it by a promise, keeping it in trust, until the rightful owner could be located. But it was a long, tragic story, with a sad, grossly unsatisfying ending. Not something he intended to share with anyone.
“It’s nice to see you, I'm here to see Senior Commander Gardeeds. I’ll be in touch.”
Lentoon stared. “We both know that's not true.”
Dereniik would have liked to have rubbed his forehead as a steady pounding had begun right between his eyes. But it wasn't possible, while standing, he couldn't even make the hand signal for respect when leaving.
Determination and the need to sit drove Dereniik on his way.
Senior Commander Gardeeds head was as bald as any D’char. He compensated for the deficiency with a luxuriant beard and dense eyebrows, dyed dark-dusk.
“Dereniik, it is an unexpected pleasure to see you.”
“I'm glad it's still a pleasure Sir.” The office was as immaculate as the fastidious man sitting behind it.
“How are you feeling?”
Dereniik hadn't come to articulate his feelings, wasn't sure if it was within his genetic make-up to be able to do so.
“I'm fine. Thank you for your concern. I have come with inquiries.”
“Excellent. Excellent. Fine, take a seat. What can I do for you?” Shrewd eyes twinkled.
“Sir, it is understandable that I have not been assigned a Commission. However, I find underemployment dissatisfying. I have come across a small inconsistency I would like to investigate. All I need is a Senior or Honourable High Commander to sanction investigation and I'm wondering if in view of our past relationship you could provide me with this consent.” Dereniik had thought of asking Orator, but Gardeeds owed him numerous favours, wouldn't want too many details and even a hint of financial gain would have him salivating. Also, despite Orator’s reluctance to be involved with politics he was a member of the High Council. Protocol dictated coming to him and kowtowing. The action was not at all objectionable, humility was a desirable quality in Dereniik’s opinion, and the man’s skills made him worthy of such respect. But with his current lack of mobility lowering a broken body to the ground three times could prove hazardous and was possibly impossible.
“May I please inquire as to the nature of this investigation?”
“It is possibly of little consequence. I have some found some processed Rustepheen fibre and inquiries at the Armoury have led me to believe they are not working on anything that requires the material.”
Gardeeds scratched his head. “That is interesting. As you say of no consequence, but I understand why you would be curious. I have no problem sanctioning an investigation of this nature. However, if you do find a web and or the creature, I will expect appropriate financial compensation.”
“A bribe Commander Gardeeds?” Dereniik raised an eyebrow. They had danced on this breeze before.
“A mutually beneficial business deal. If you find a Rustepheen Web, I may even be able to recommend you receive another boost to your ranking.”
Dereniik considered the words. From previous interactions Gardeeds knew offering sequin was futile. Men couldn't own possessions. A single man used only what was considered necessary to sustain life. Dereniik lived austerely, following the letter of the law. But an increase in his social status was appealing. Holding a ranking of seven Maull would free him choose his own Commissions, investigate what he wanted, without having to first seek the approval of a High Council member or Senior Commander.
“If I find a Rustepheen I will report the outcome of my investigation to you.” Dereniik had stated the fibre was processed so knew that scenario improbable. Gardeeds hearing the words Rustepheens web, equated it with sequin, greed blanking out all other considerations.
Having secured the approval, Dereniik did not linger.
****
“My lady, this humble servant is called Ly and is happy to be of service to you?”
Viky approached the servant as they crossed the green running an errand for Maddie. It was hard to tell Ly’s age. Not much taller than Viky the servant was slightly built, looked ancient, but moved with the grace of well tones muscles.
“Thank you, Ly. I was wondering if you have seen anyone leaving with large parcels?” Storm blast, she had forgotten a Lady wasn’t supposed to use gratitude’s with servants.
The corners of Ly’s mouth turned up in a suppressed smile.
“It is with much regret My Lady that the only parcel your humble servant has seen within the last nine day was a box of supplies for lady Sheeli, and that was entering the enclave, not exiting.”
“Have you seen anybody, any strangers, entering or leaving the enclave?”
“My Lady, your humble servant is familiar with all the people seen within the vicinity.”
‘Vicinity’, interesting word choice for a servant. One of the brighter servants, possibly well educated. Ly had been singing a counting rhyme the other day so she shouldn’t have been surprised. Would Jieleem have understood the word vicinity? Possibly not.
“Have you seen anything suspicious or unusual lately?”
“Your humble servant did notice that my lady arrived back at her suite a few days ago with an unusual amount of water on her clothing.”
Viky raised an eyebrow. Dereniik had been right, servants did notice things. She could have sworn she had entered the enclave unobserved. Viky felt pierced, no, seen. Truly seen, by the servants unblinking gaze. What did Ly’s eyes remind her of? Wisdom? Not precisely. Understanding, maybe closer. Ly had seen life, lived long, was standing in a place she had not, knew secrets beyond her ability to guess.
“OK, well, forget about me.” She smoothed her rumpled dress. “Have you seen or heard anything else unusual?”
“Yes my lady. His humble servant was approached by a younger servant in a state of distress. They had spilt water over a Lady, it was believed she was lost in the servants’ tunnels, but her concern and compassion were for this humble servant’s young friend. This treatment of one so lowly is very unusual, certainly worthy of acknowledgement.” Ly’s grey-green eyes, the colour of stormy clouds, smiled.
What else had the servant seen?
“Well that's just common decency. The amphoras were much too heavy, the servant was little more than a child.” This was not how Vicky had thought the conversation would go. “Do you know that Lady Isobeel’s body chains are missing?”
“Yes, my lady, this humble servant was present in the room when you and Lady Madissa discussed it the other day. This one was also asked to entertain the little girl children while Lady Jessaraay and Lady Tushii assisted Lady Isobeel search her suite. The situation has been openly discussed in this one's presence.”
“Has anything else been discussed in your presence that would give us a clue as to where the body chains are now?”
Ly was thoughtful. “This servant is aware of some circumstances that may contribute to a person wishing for such a possession of value. But motive alone is not indicative of guilt. So, although it is the heart's desire of this humble servant to render assistance it is not within this one's power to do so.”
“Can you at least give me a clue. Who needs sequin?”
“My lady, your humble servant requests that you allow this one some time to consult others who also have access and opportunity to have picked up information while working in and around this enclave. Once such information is obtained your servant will return to you.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate it very much.” Storm blast, now she said ‘thank you’ again. She was going to have to be more careful. Viky made the hand signal for dismissing a servant. Ly back stepped three times and headed to the broadway.
It was a great pity Ly was a servant, they were straightforward, genuine and the sort of person Viky would have liked to have been a friend. She wasn't doing friends anymore, so it was just as well Ly was a servant and the dynamics of their relationship were as unwavering as the Granite cliff face Chruciaal was built into.
The seventh day, of the second nine-day, in the Month of Bright Storms, in the rotation 204 A.P.W.
Sheeli's reception room resembled a workshop. A large shuttle loom stood centre stage, spinning wheel, lathe, sewing equipment, and quilting frame, lace bobbins, and other unknown craft equipment lined the walls. A place of light, order, and sharp angles. A large section of the back wall was inlaid with something reflective and the luminescent biophyte sparkled and echoed off its surface. Her hostess on the other hand wore a dark expression and despite not long given birth to a son was curved in all the right places. Both sisters had light tan skin tones and multi-coloured brown hair, but Sheeli’s was a shade or two darker overall.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Thank you for your visit, but as you can see, I'm busy, in the middle of a project, I don't get much time in between nursing, so unless you want to card fibre for me, just tell me what you want, so I can get on with my day.”
The reality of the situation was Sheeli had not stopped working. She sat with her back to the centre of the room, a hand loom before her. The shuttle continued with the regular rhythm. Blatant honesty, well Viki could respect that. Not that it was going to make her investigation easier.
“Sorry, I don't know how to card fibre. I can twist it and plat it ready for rope making. That loom by the wall is impressive, I've never one as large as that.” Viky tried to sound interested and impressed.
“It's a double, Shaar and I work it together. We can weave twice the width of a normal piece of cloth by standing on either side and passing the shuttle between us.” There was a hint of pride in the young woman's voice.
Viky stood to inspect object. A new project with only a few hands breasts of fabric lay across the base of the massive structure. A swirling pattern of vines and leaves with various flowers interspersed had started to take shape. The impression of déjà vu flitted across Viky’s mind. Where had she seen the pattern before? Sheeli’s shuttle continued to be thrust across her small loom in a regular rhythm.
“This large one is a really good idea, wider pieces of fabric would need less stitching together, so you'd be saving yourself time.” Viky commented.
“I didn't think up the idea, those sorts of looms have been around for ages in Amaraanth, but the Guild won't sell them outside the city.”
“How did you get this one?”
“I made it myself.”
“You made it? I'm impressed. Nice pattern too, did you make that up as well?”
“No, or at least it's mostly copied, I've just stylized it. The original was much more complicated.”
It was still too complicated for Viky’s tastes, but then, a lot of things were.
“What's this you're making?” Viky spied a thin piece of hard leather that had a delicate design cut into it. A fresh vine in full bloom.
“That will be used as a stencil. The holes will allow the paint through, the leather will resist, leaving the fabric below it free of paint. The pattern is repeated all over a plain piece of fabric. Lot less time consuming then weaving the pattern into the fabric and the results are beautiful.”
“Wont the paint won't just wash off the first time the fabric has to be cleaned?”
“No, some dyes fade a little over time, but we use Keep-it flowers. They are permanent if you use the correct mordant to set them.”
“They don't grow in the Rifts, but I have heard they stain, so using them as a dye makes sense.”
“What do you use to colour fabric with?” Shelli asked.
Viky shrugged. “Some of the mushrooms and mosses, we don't have anywhere near the range of colour I’ve seen since coming here. But traditionally Rift clothing blends in with the environment.” Just because there were few alpha predators in the Rift didn't mean camouflage wasn't an intelligent concept.
“It’s also boring, I heard that both men and women wear tunics and trousers. I bet it was a relief to get to Chruciaal and have a larger selection of clothing styles available to you. You should buy something colourful off us.”
Viky understood why Shaar was the sales consultant in this business partnership. Insulting potential customers wasn't a great sales pitch.
“Tunics and trousers are perfect if you're going to go into the forest, but I don't mind wearing skirts now I'm here. Jess showed me a picture of Isobeel’s body chains in the library. I'm not sure how she moved in them, do you know what they were dyed with?”
Not exactly a subtle introduction to the subject she wanted to talk about, but it would have to do.
“Don't know, would have loved to have known. Would have loved to have known how they are made.” Sheeli said returning her attention to the shuttle.
“Do you think they were stolen?”
“Don't know what else could have happened. Tushii and Jess have turned Isobeel’s place upside down. They would have found them if they were still there.”
“How do you think they were taken?”
Sheeli stopped weaving. “Viky, I'm meeting you as a favour. I'm under strict instructions from both Shaar and Jess to play nice. You got that. I don't know what sort of customs you have in the Rifts, but your questions sound an awful lot like an accusation. I don't want to be disrespectful to you, but you better make your next question a good one or I will ask you to leave.”
Viky had anticipated some difficulty, Sheeli was short tempered and abrasive on a regular basis. But dealing with someone who was outwardly hostile was so much better than the person who was nice to your face and then stabbed you in the back. She waited for Sheeli to continue weaving.
“You were asking about the body chains before they went missing. You wanted to borrow them. Is that just a coincidence that they are now missing?”
“No such thing as coincidences.” Sheeli said. “But I don’t have them.”
“I don't believe in coincidence either.” Viky agreed.
“Well, I'm grateful that you've brought this to my attention, I would have never thought of it myself.” The sarcasm was biting. “Look, I get it, I get it. But I'm not a thief.”
“We all make mistakes.” Viky suggested.
“Not that sort of mistake. I wasn't interested in the body chains to wear them, or even to have them. I wanted to understand how they were made. The craft involved. The construction, the fabric. To have a once in a lifetime opportunity to study them. Learn forgotten techniques. That's why I wanted to borrow them.”
Viky nodded. She could understand that, felt much the same way about the library. But glancing around the cluttered room surely the woman had enough incomplete projects to continue with. Although she had five manuscripts, a substantial number for anyone, very unusual for a Lady of her age. And that didn’t stop her wanting to read, study and possess more.
There was a rhythm to Sheeli’s work. A fervidness. The woman had made a double loom. Something she couldn't get because of restrictions from the Guild workers. So, she'd found a way around it. That would have required significant effort and energy and determination. Watching the intense face, Viky wouldn't have put it past Sheeli have taken the body chains. Her work showed her to be creative, capable of planning and improvising. But she didn't strike Viky as a thief.
The problem was Viky hadn't much experience with thieves.
***
Bowing was supposed to be graceful. Dereniik felt, and was sure he looked, awkward but it was still necessary when greeting any woman. No one had been home at the first two suites, but Dereniik had introductions prepared for various circumstances.
“My Lady, please forgive my intrusion. I am seeking to locate the suite of the Commander from the Education Committee who is currently not at work.”
“Do you mean Yashoof? He and Islingtee live in suite seven.” The woman had been about to ask a question but caught sight of the insignia denoting rank on his epilates and changed her mind.
It was a calculated risk, but only minimal. The stakes were low and apart from satiating his own curiosity of no consequence. But the question had been raised and Dereniik possessed enough self-realization to know he had always been a little obsessive, needing to find the answers to questions.
Now he had a name. Yashoof, Dereniik remembered the man, their respective teams had cooperated on a case a couple of rotations back. The Education Committee oversaw the three years of training all men undertook to become Commanders. But the disperse information, or as Dereniik had discovered, misinformation, throughout the coalition, also fell under their jurisdiction.
Dereniik had not expected the Lady of the house to answer the door. She had a kind face, framed by a halo of soft orange hair.
“My Lady Islingtee, it is a pleasure to find you at home. Please forgive my intrusion, I have come to inquire after your life partner Commander Yashoof.”
“Oh, how lovely, please come in.” The woman curtsied. Multiple pendulous cerise earrings bobbing back and forth as she nodded enthusiastically.
“Thank you, my lady,” Dereniik hobbled inside, hoping she would be as pleased to see him after he had made his inquiries.
“Yashoof dear heart, Commander Dereniik is here to see you.” Lady Islingtee called into the reception room.
After all the fuss they had made over him on his return it shouldn't have been a surprise she had known his name. But Dereniik was still adjusting to the idea. As a Deputized Operative Commander being unknown had often proved advantageous.
Yashoof was a powerful, well-muscled man, with broad shoulders and a thick waste. Traces of grey and a couple of shades of blue streaked the trimmed goatee and thinning hair.
“Well met Commander Dereniik.” Yashoof grunted. The man's shoulders had gone back a touch, like a Widewing preparing to enter a fighting ring. “Please be seated.”
“Thank you, Sir. And how are you feeling?” Dereniik settled himself and gestured towards the bandage swaddling Yashoof’s head.
“Better, better every day. I'll be back at work within their next nine-day.”
“That is indeed excellent news.” Dereniik didn't think it was the truth, but he needed to find out what was going on here.
“Gentleman, may I offer you refreshments? We have a very smooth First City ferment?” Lady Islingtee stopped rearranging cushions as she asked.
“He’s here on business my love, always been a stickler for the law. Won't drink ferment on the job.” Yashoof answered.
Dereniik shrugged. He had justified this visit on the slim chance there was a connection between the Rustepheen fibre and the young woman who was regularly visiting, but held no illusions that such a connection existed outside ninety-nine other fantastic theories. He loved First City ferments and would have gladly accepted the drink. But now he couldn't without relinquishing the allusion of authority. The woman flustered, picked up and put down the same cushion twice. Wanting to stay, knowing she should leave.
It was her house, Yashoof could not request she leave, and neither could Dereniik. Godmothers looked after women and Commanders delt with men. If it was men's business, social dictates made leaving the polite thing for her to do. The woman hesitated, so Dereniik made the decision for her.
“My Lady, thank you for the offer of hospitality. If it is not an inconvenience a mug of Caraaf would be appreciated.”
Better to get her out the way and discuss the issue with Yashoof first. Lady Islingtee glanced at her life partner, he nodded, she made the appropriate gestures and left the room. How much did she know? Possibly more than he did.
“How much trouble am I in?” Yashoof asked.
“Hard to say, I would like to hear your side of the story.”
Yashoof sighed. “Not much of a story, I just didn't know. Completely blew me away when she came and told me who she was. I never suspected a thing. Don't think my mother did either.”
Yashoof fell silent. Dereniik needed more, he could practically hear Yashoof’s jaw grinding.
“Tell me everything, from your perspective, since she arrived.” Dereniik encouraged.
“She was pretty shaken up. Never imagined that she would leave Elimleech, and was worried about her mother and the brothers she'd left behind. They were third and fourth sons of course, grown up thinking they were first and second. Not the woman's fault, she genuinely thought my parent, her life partner, was a merchant, who spent time away attending to business. Never dreamed he had another family. So suddenly the girls all on her own, not a first daughter but a second. You know she was told the truth, picked up and bought to Chruciaal all on the same day?”
Dereniik didn't, but he was beginning to get the picture. Sympathy and compassion rose in his heart.
“I agree, that would be very hard on anyone. Please keep talking.”
“She only sought me out to ask advice on a fellow she was interested in. It’s only natural. Young women in Elimleech expect older relatives to organize and arrange their Bonding. She panicked, didn't know how to make a good choice. I couldn't turn my back on my own flesh and blood. Even if she was a half-sister I never knew I had.”
Dereniik now had all the information he needed. Yashoof’s parent wasn't the first man Dereniik had come across with an illegal second family. It put all involved in difficult situations.
Islingtee entered with a tray and three mugs of Caraaf. She served the men before settling on a couch. With a definite glance a Dereniik picked up third cup for herself. Dereniik took the mug offered him. The Caraaf was slightly under brewed, and sweetened, but not enough to spoil Dereniik’s enjoyment.
“Commander Dereniik, this involves my family, I have a right to be here.” Lady Islingtee met his eye and held it.
“As you wish, My lady. Commander Yashoof was giving me his perspective; I would value anything you wish to add?”
Islingtee folded long fingers into a lap and held them tightly together. “Only that I don't think the sins of a parent should have consequences for their children. That's not fair.”
She lifted her chin, searching his eyes.
“Whether I agree or not is it irrelevant. And my lady it is with much regret that I must inform you, life is not fair, and what others do can have far-reaching consequences beyond our personal control. But I have not come with the intent of making your life more difficult. You will need to inform your half-sister that she is arousing unnecessary suspicion by sneaking over to see you. I'm not asking you to stop seeing her, just that she does so without looking like she's guilty of plotting to assassinate The Angel. Please explain to her since she was picked up as a second daughter enough people in the right places know of your relationship. Her discretion with this information is preferable, for your own sakes, but a friendship between your families need not be strained or secret.”
“So, we're not in trouble? I know the coalition takes great pains to separate family members. Sons who become Commanders are never sent to the same city as their parent.” Yashoof said.
Dereniik considered the question, knew the theory. Recruiting most first-born sons whose mothers could afford to buy them a fractal: Training, conditioning, and exposing them to propaganda for three rotations: Separating men from the same region into teams with men from all the other regions. All this so Power could not coalesce. Families didn't become dynasties. It was also harder to raise support to attack another city when the powered people you hope to recruit have mothers, sisters and other relatives living there. But inevitably with nine men on nearly every team and there only being nine Great Cities or regions in the world, some men were assigned back to their city of origin.
“It shouldn't be too much of an issue.” Dereniik gave the couple a smile. “Just be sure not to start any revolutions. However, I do need to inquire if your altercation of late was in relation to your sister?”
Yashoof frowned. “There was no altercation, I tripped and fell.”
Dereniik shook his head. “Your knuckles are scraped. That sort of injury is sustained when you've used your fist against something solid, like someone's jaw for example. Please don't lie to me Commander Yashoof.”
“Masahiiko accused me of having an affair. He needed to be taught a lesson.” Yashoof growled.
Dereniik sighed. “May I perhaps recommend that when you invite your sister over you include her life partner. That may mitigate confusion and contribute to more peaceful relations.”
Lady Islingtee twittered. “Yes, yes that will be wonderful. And we can spend more time with them all. This calls for a celebration, I am getting that First City blend.”
Dereniik shrugged, he wasn’t involved in official business and this outcome was so much better than his initial suspicions. Yashoof’s injured had not left him unable to teach Dereniik a lesson if the big man had decided it necessary.
And it had been a long time since Dereniik had found much in life to celebrate about.