(note: All descriptions are made up by me at this point and may change later, other than Lady Freda...which brings me to names...all names but Stephan are also placeholders)

The wind blows briskly past the manor house, swirls around the servants’ blockhouses, detours abruptly across the front of the corn crib, blocked now by a full load, and then flees for the wall. Picking up speed across the expanse of trimmed and sculpted lawn, the wind whistles as it flows over the thick ferrocrete palisade and scuds violently into the stubbled fields.

Leaves, small twigs and dust take flight as the wind scours the soil. The combined detritus flows, swift and swirling, until blocked by and given more elevation by a revetment. The cloud patters across the ceramsteel hull of a small starship and one leaf clings briefly to the ornate cross emblem of House Li Halan…


Gen Sarroe wiped her eyes and spat, irritated, as the wind struggled its way around the Genericus. “Great,” she muttered, “no telling how much of that got in the hatch. I just swept out the airlock!” She heaved a sigh and trudged back up the ramp as two men in billowing white capes with the red sword of De Moley crested the edge of the revetment.

“Here it is,” the older one said, “the Genericus, the craft we will be traveling in with Lady Freda.”

The younger one stroked his red chin-beard and grunted. “Doesn’t look like much, brother Geed, but then I guess I’m not one to be able to judge.”

“You’re right, brother Lexad, it doesn’t look like much,” the older man shrugged, “but so many things in this life are not what they seem…”

“I hope that this is one of those times,” Lexad replied, his tone making it clear that he doubted it.

The two Brothers Battle began ascending the ramp as Gen Sarroe started down again, wiping her hands on her jumpsuit. “Who are you?” she asked, casting them a disapproving look.

The older priest swept his hood off of his curly dark hair and replied, giving a slight nod to the woman blocking their way—not quite a bow, but not blatantly disrespectful. “I am Geed Vellatt of Brother Battle. This is my companion Lexad Fargel,” he said gesturing the red-haired man, who nodded at the woman as well, brusquely. “We are here to join the retinue of the Marquise Freda Gallenier, whom we are told is already here.”

The woman in the jumpsuit snorted. “Yer dang right she is. Her and that furry monstrosity came aboard like she owned the place—”

“Doesn’t she?” Brother Lexad asked.

“…uh…well, now, I’m not sure. I’m just the janitor, so what do I know? Oh me, where are my manners? Hello Fathers…er…Brothers…uh…guys, my name is Gen Sarroe.” She half held out a hand, then thought better and bowed slightly. “Go on in…knock your boots off before you open the air lock, I just swept it…again!”

“She didn’t seem terribly comfortable with us,” Lexad said, glancing back as they dutifully kicked their boots at the door.

“Guilder,” Geed said, “They often have trouble with anyone in the Church. I’d be wary of her, were I you.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you see the eye of Horus on her? Her badge? She’s a Scraver” Geed’s lips drew thin, a rare indication of displeasure.

“The scavengers? I don’t see why—”

“If she’s legit, yes. She could be a thief or mobster too, for all we know. Keep an eye on her is all I’m saying.”

Lexad nodded and they made their way inside the ship. A man stepped up to greet them, with the cup and jumpgate symbol of the Sanctuary Aeon prominently displayed. He had dark hair and an olive complexion, and the Brothers Battle could not help but notice the horrible burn scars he had. Being veterans of much fighting, the two were able to avoid wincing. The Amalthean bowed, saying, “Welcome brethren, I am Stephan, confessor to Her Excellency, I bid you welcome to our humble vessel. I hope that the journey was not too taxing.”

Both Brothers Battle bowed deeply, deeper than Stephan had; both men were fond of the healers of the Church, for many reasons.

“I am honored to meet you, Deacon Stephan, I am Brother Geed, and this is Brother Lexad.”

“Come, come, let me show you to your quarters, brothers.” Stephan turned and led the two warrior-monks deeper into the ship.

They stopped almost immediately to let a mass of fur seemingly the size of the corridor gallop past. On its back was what looked like a monkey. The wind of their passage tugged the capes of the Brothers Battle. Lexad turned to Stephan and said, “Was that a—”

Stephan nodded. “That was indeed a Gannock riding a Vorox.”

“I didn’t think they let them off their world…” Lexad said.

“This one is Lady Freda’s personal bodyguard. Part of the perks of being a Li Halan heir, I suppose. His full name is Itheckallstimrec, which has something to do with an event in his early adulthood, but he goes by Itheck, since we cannot ever get the inflection quite right. Well, I can, but that is after much practice, and I do prefer the shorter version.”

“The Gannock with him is Fez Jakfin, the engineer of this vessel. I know not what transpired between the two, but they have become fast friends, for I know that in most instances, riding a Vorox, or attempting to I should say, usually results in hideous dismemberment. But they seem to have hit it off.” Stephan shrugged and continued. He showed the two monks to a room, barely 4 meters square that held bunks and lockers. “This is your room, my brothers, nothing fancy, as was your desire.

After the two Brothers put their small valises in lockers, Stephan led them to another door, and held it open.

“This is the dining facility. It also doubles as the lounge as it’s about the only space on the ship big enough for everyone to gather at once. On Sabbath it serves as the chapel. The pilot used to call it the mess deck, but Miss Sarroe took such extreme exception that he has ceased doing so. Did you meet her already? Ah, good, then I don’t have to warn you, because you already know.”

“You will be happy to know that this cabinet has been properly blessed for holding the sacri—”

Another door to the lounge opened and a striking young woman swept into the room, somehow making the duck-and-step maneuver necessary to clear the hatch into a graceful slide. Her clothing was cream-colored silk, edged with a dark grey fur. Her long black hair was held back by a marquise’s coronet and her piercing blue eyes took in the three priests, and the rest of the room, assessing it, as if cataloguing its contents. She stepped sideways, as if waiting.

The man that followed her into the room was almost her antithesis. He was rumpled, stubbled, and disheveled; he was paunchy and had a receding hairline. He probably needed a bath. But the Charioteer emblem splashed across the back of his flight suit proclaimed that he was likely not to be trifled with. He stopped and spoke to the Marquise, not seeming to take notice of the rest of the room’s occupants.

“Do we have to leave so soon, my Lady?” his gravely voice had the merest hint of a whine in it. “Surely you’ll want to stay and say goodbye to friends and such. Me and Fez could use the time to double-check the—”

“Captain Fidigram, I have no more desire to leave than you, but leave we must.”

“Are you absolutely sure we have to leave the planet? Maybe I could just fly you to some remote area and we could—” the Charioteer began.

The noblewoman cut him off. “You know as well as I do that that is not good enough. We’ve talked about this before. We must go. Soon.”

“All right, all right. Fine,” the Charioteer heaved a much-put-upon sigh and turned to leave. Most of the way through the hatch, he stopped, turned, and executed the most perfunctory of quasi-bows that he could and then disappeared.

The noblewoman sighed and turned to the priests. “Ah, Stephan, I see you’ve met my newest layer of bodyguards. You must be Brother Geed, and you, I take it, are Brother Lexad?”

The two Brothers bowed. The woman nodded in acknowledgment.

Stephan bowed and said, “Brothers Geed and Lexad, this is Her Ladyship, Marquise Freda Gallenier, heiress to this world of Icon, and our charge.”

After a few moments of exchanged pleasantries, Lady Freda excused herself and made her way to parts unknown further inside the vessel. Stephan poured tea for himself and the other two priests and sat.

“So,” Stephan began, “I was quite surprised to find out that we would be traveling with not one, but two, Brothers. I confess that I have not been told the reason why. When I ask the Marquise, he simply sighs and says that her family is overprotective. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Certainly,” Geed said, taking initiative in the conversation again. For his part, Lexad didn’t appear to mind, and Stephan assumed that Lexad must be one of the quiet and violent models of Brother Battle. “We have been requested as guardians for the Lady Freda in her journeys. Brother Battle owes the good Marquise’s father a debt of honor for services rendered long ago, and we are the payment for it. I have been assigned as that I am due a restful assignment since my last mission to Severus, and Brother Lexad here is relatively fresh from the monastery, so he is coming along for the experience.”

“And her family felt that a Vorox was not sufficient to safeguard her?” Stephan raised an eyebrow. “Are they expecting some kind of horrible trial that I should be girding myself for?”

“No, no, Father Stephan. In fact, they are expecting nothing very much exciting to happen. But, as that she is the heiress of a Li Halan world, they wanted to make sure that the purity of her virtue would not be in question by the time her travels end and they wanted to give you as much help as they think you might need to that end. We are, shall we say, your extra eyes, and, because you are an Amalthean, your fists and feet, your blade and shield. No one expects, indeed everyone hopes against, any reason for us to be here, but we are extra insurance.

“I still don’t see why we don’t simply lead a bunch of Avestites into Earl Harriman’s palace and remove all reason for the Marquise to have to leave,” Lexad said, almost sullenly.

“Because,” Stephan said, “we still don’t have any hard proof that he is an Antimonist. But the marriage contract is very specific. She is to be married by twenty, and that day is fast approaching. There have been numerous investigations to prove the allegations against Earl Harriman, and they have all failed. He is simply too powerful to have an Avesti Purge Squad bust in and remove him for ‘questioning.’ We are to give the Iconians and Marquise Freda’s family a chance to prove Earl Harriman’s perfidy by removing her Lady from the world and keeping her incommunicado for the time being.”

“Do you believe that Harriman trafficks with demons?” Geed asked.

“I would never help anyone break a binding contract if I did not believe that extreme circumstances existed.”

Stephan took a sip of tea.

“Besides he’s…he is not a nice person.”

The priests drank in silence for a while.

“Was that…man…our pilot?” Geed asked finally.

“Yes,” Stephan said, “Captain Keel Fidigram, a long-serving Charioteer; quite a good pilot and merchant. You did not see him at his best.”

“Ah, so he gets better?”

“Yes. He has his demons…but he is a basically decent man. As far as I have been able to ascertain. He had some issues with failed Sathra dampeners early in his career. Indeed, he seems cursed by them. The Temple Avesti assure me that he checks out. They told me that they have purged his soul on three occasions and that every time he has come out fine. I would imagine having that happen could leave some…scars. Oddly enough, he appears to be a star pilot that does not like to travel in space…”


…the leaves and dust make it around the ceramsteel mass and skitter off into the gathering gloom.

Any word you had to look up in a thesaurus was the wrong one.