"Because I cannot serve in two forces at once. Your Grace is going to
require an Archducal Enforcement Service, and I wish to help establish
it." He smiled. "I also wish to establish a Family, a desire both my
wife and my mistress share. That will be difficult anywhere except in
High Teton for some time."
"For anyone except the nobility, at least," Bradford agreed. "Which is
why, with Your Grace's permission, I would like to move Strike Force
Operations there as soon as practical."
"Granted." That was something she hadn't really considered, but she
could see why it would be true; her new fief had a small population,
which made it seem safe to assume its inhabitants would be in favor of
a change that would allow them to expand. "Have we had enough practice
for one night?"
"I'd say so," Bradford replied. "You only slipped once, when Ivan gave
you what I admit was a shock."
"Good!" Cortin unfastened the collar of her tunic, sighing with relief.
"It certainly was, even though I suppose I should have expected it.
He's certainly hinted about moving to this world."
"He won't be the only one," Edward said. "From what I've heard, High
Teton is going to have quite an influx of people wanting Families--a
large percentage of them Enforcement, with their various Sovereigns'
backing. Not all permanent, though."
"They'll be welcome," Cortin said. "I'm glad of the Sovereigns'
reaction--but I'm still worried about Pope Lucius', when we go public.
I simply cannot see him giving Church approval. I'm a little surprised
that he hasn't revoked the Enforcement dispensation, in fact."
"Such a revocation would have little effect," Chang said. "Those I
speak to during my work at the hospital have made that clear."
Cortin frowned. "They'd disobey the Pope? I wouldn't, even if I
didn't agree with him."
"On the contrary," Illyanov said. "If his decrees conflict with what
you think right, or what Michael and Eleanor tell us of the Protector's
will, you will have no choice but to disobey. Which is true of all of
us who are Sealed, and thus guided directly. We must prepare the
Protector's way, and also encourage devotion to all three Aspects of
the Triune--they are, after all, complementary--in hopes of protecting
as many people as possible from Shayan and his deceits."
Chang nodded. "There is a certain protection available even to those
not yet Sealed. I refer, of course, to the cartridges Joan has
blessed."
"Oh?" Illyanov cocked his head. "I know they are growing in
popularity, with civilians as well as troopers, but I am unaware of any
special protection they might offer."
"I cannot say they truly do," Chang cautioned, "but many troopers, of
late, refuse to go into the field without them. It is said that those
who wear cartridges suffer fewer and less serious wounds than those who
do not. More importantly, not one person with such a cartridge is
known to have died under the shadow of mortal sin. There is growing
belief that if Colonel Cortin is not the Protector herself, she must be
the Protector's Herald."
"To the best of my knowledge, I'm neither one," Cortin said. "I don't
want to mislead people, even by omission--but what if that misdirected
belief helps pave the Protector's way? Should I say something, or
should I keep silent?"
They were getting onto shaky ground, Odeon thought. Their belief
wasn't misdirected; it was only Joanie who was unable to believe the
truth, and he wondered if she'd noticed the phrasing of her denial.
"If it were me," he said slowly, "I'd keep my mouth shut. No one's
being hurt by that belief, and it may help. That Brother said piety
was necessary, in both senses of the word--this could be what he was
talking about. Piety the person, and a pious faith and hope--belief,
if you will--in the Protector and His or Her imminent appearance."
"In which case," Illyanov said, "it is a belief worth promoting." He
turned to Cortin. "If the idea makes you uncomfortable, beloved, I
would suggest you ask Michael and Eleanor to dedicate this evening's
service to your guidance, and pray that it be revealed while you sleep.
I am sure God will not deny such help to one who has given herself to
His service."
"Sounds reasonable," Odeon said. "We'll do it."
* * * * *
Cortin knew in a remote way that she was dreaming, even though it
seemed real enough--the clean smell of the mountain air, the
sun-warmth, her Family surrounding her with the Archducal Palace behind
them. All were in white Enforcement uniforms, like none she'd ever
seen, but that seemed right somehow, and she was buoyed by the love she
felt from all of them.
In the distance she saw a bright glow. As it grew, she saw it was a
man, also in a white Enforcement uniform, his rank insignia a single
silver star. When his feet touched the ground in front of her, he
hugged her and gave her a thorough, highly enjoyable kiss. When he
released her, he smiled. "You asked for help, Joanie; I'm here to give
it. The first order of business, though, is to tell you that you're
doing as well as anyone could, under these circumstances."
"Thanks--that's good to know." Cortin was calmer than she thought she
had any right to be, with the certainty it was Jeshua Himself talking
to her--probably His influence, she thought. "You know the problem;
what should I do? Or not do?"
"Don't deny the beliefs that concern you," he said promptly. "They're
natural ones, since you're fulfilling the prophecies that show the
Protector's about to appear."
"But they're supposed to apply to the Protector or His Herald--and both
of them are men!"
"Not in anything I've said." Jeshua chuckled. "That's a human
assumption I allowed to stand, as harmless. Those with enough power
can choose what sex to appear as--see?" With that, he became a woman,
wearing the field habit of a Blue Sister. After a few seconds, he
changed back. "I'm not exactly what you believe me to be, Joanie, but
then neither are most people or things. That isn't particularly
significant in this instance, any more than my looks are--or than the
Herald's or Protector's sex."
Cortin couldn't help it; she grinned at that before continuing. "I'm
certain I'm not the Protector, but you say I'm fulfilling prophecies I
never heard of. That sounds like I'm being used as a decoy--or am I
the Herald?"
The man returned her smile. "In part, yes. Get Ivan to tell you about
the prophecies some day; he grew up with the accurate ones. In the
meantime, you shouldn't worry about them. Mike and Sis will guide you,
and your Family will support you, as will the rest of the Sealed ones."
At this point it would be counterproductive, he thought, telling her
she was also acting Protector; she would simply reject the idea. He
wouldn't lie to her, but he also saw no point in burdening her
unnecessarily, since she could use the aspects of her borrowed powers
that she'd need without accepting that temporary part of her identity.
And he had no doubt the true Protector would grant her her fondest wish
when he arrived.
In part? Cortin wondered, but she decided against going into that; it
sounded like something likely to make her uncomfortable if she
investigated too closely. Instead, she decided to change the subject.
"Am I . . . really going to have to face Shayan?"
"Yes, though not until after the Protector manifests fully, and it
probably won't be as you expect."
"Is Shannon Shayan?"
"Yes."
Cortin was getting a little irritated. He was answering her questions,
true, but he certainly wasn't being very responsive! What else did she
need to know? "You sound like you approve of the Families, but I can't
believe Pope Lucius will." She shook her head, bewildered. "And how
can your Worldly Vicar oppose you?" She paused, a frightening thought
forming. "Unless the Pope's somehow Shannon, as well."
Jeshua sighed. "Pope Lucius is indeed Lawrence Shannon in different
physical form. I can't explain to you exactly what's going on; you
don't need, or really want, to know. Suffice it to say that his hatred
and basic opposition are intact, but his powers, in that position at
this time, do serve my purposes."
That was a shock, but Cortin was aware he was shielding her from most
of the impact, and she was extremely grateful for the protection. Dear
God, Shayan the Pope!
"It's not a desirable situation, true, but as I said, it is necessary,
and I promise you as much of an explanation as you can understand when
this stage is complete." He gave her a brief smile. "It may help you
to know he has no spiritual authority over those who are Sealed, as
Ivan told you--and it's Mike and Sis who have that authority over those
who are devoted to the Protector. Pass on to them, would you, that the
time has come to institute the bread and milk Communion of Promise?
It'll give limited protection to those who want to be Sealed but can't
until the Protector manifests fully."
"Of course I will."
"Then except for two small personal items, I've done all that is
appropriate at this point. Let Mike and Sis guide you, accept the
support of the others who are or want to be Sealed, and work for the
Protector's objectives." He smiled at her. "The first personal item
is to reclaim the symbol Shayan stole and marked you with. You belong
to me, not him--as do the other Sealed. Please remove your gloves."
Cortin obeyed, finding as she did that the circled triangles no longer
disturbed her. And they didn't look like burns any more; instead they
seemed to glow with blue light, somehow comforting. "Will . . . the
others have these?"
"If you and they want, yes. It isn't a requirement; being openly
Sealed will mark them for Shayan's personal torture if his people
capture them, and he needs no supernatural powers to make that weeks of
agony. His millennia of practice are enough."
"My team would never forgive me if I left them out of anything, even if
it was risky. They'll want these marks, but I don't know about the
others--I can't choose for them."
"True. If they want them when they see yours, they'll get them. The
other item is a trade, if you wish. Your back pain for the Stigmata,
which will show you act with my approval. To compensate for the
inconvenience of bleeding periodically, they won't cause you any pain."
"I could hardly refuse anything you offer--I'll make the trade." She
hesitated. "Uh, what about the cartridges? Was Sis right about them?"
"She was indeed, so long as the wearer doesn't commit a mortal sin
deliberately. You'll forget about the symbols and trade both until the
latter takes effect." He kissed her again, in a brotherly way this
time, and vanished as he had appeared.
* * * * *
Cortin woke with a feeling of imminent disaster. It had seemed like a
nightmare, especially Shayan on the Papal Throne . . . Still, Jeshua
had said there was a purpose to it, and he'd outlined what sounded like
the only reasonable thing for her to do. She got up, but instead of
dressing--the message she'd been asked to pass along sounded like one
that shouldn't wait--she put on a robe and went to Odeon's room.
He'd apparently had a quieter night than she; when he called for her to
come in he was still in bed, stretched out in a way that reminded her
of a large and perfectly contented cat. "Join me?" he invited.
"Uh-huh." Cortin slipped the robe off and slid under the covers,
comforted by his warm strength. "I'm not sure how much help it was,
but I did have a visitor last night. He asked me to tell you it was
time to institute the Communion of Promise, and I got the impression he
meant today."
"Good--I've been waiting for word I could. What about what you wanted
to know?"
"I found out, sort of. He said I'm the Herald, 'in part'--I was too
chicken to ask what he meant by that--and that I shouldn't deny what
I'm being called, even if it's the Protector." Cortin shivered,
huddling against his chest. "I found out a couple of other things,
too. You know the Protector could be a woman? And that Pope Lucius is
Shayan, and you and Sis're the Protector's version of a Pope?"
"The last I'd guessed, the rest I knew, yes."
"And that we're on our own now?"
"I thought that was getting close." Odeon kissed her, holding her
snugly and stroking her back. "We need two more people, Ivan says,
then we'll be in position to hold the fort till the Protector's ready
to surface. I expect Betty'll be one of them, but I don't think we've
met the other yet."
To her surprise, Cortin found herself becoming aroused. That didn't
seem possible, much less appropriate, after her vision--but it was
happening. "Mike--"
"What better way to put what you've just been through into perspective?
It took a shelter party to straighten Sis and me out, but I don't think
you need anything that extreme." He raised himself as if to get out of
bed. "Of course, if you think otherwise . . ."
"I don't, even if a shelter party does sound nice." Cortin shook her
head, bewildered. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for Mass, though?"
"Is it your conscience or habit asking that?" Odeon stroked her hair,
then caressed a breast. "Trust your feelings, Joanie. You can't sin,
remember?"
"I remember." And Jeshua had been specific about telling her to follow
Mike and Sis' guidance . . . She closed her eyes, trying to analyze
what she actually felt. That was complicated by Mike's continuing
caresses, but it did seem her feelings said this was the right thing to
be doing now. Mass was important, yes, but she shouldn't go to it in
the mood she'd had when she wakened, of impending doom; this was the
Protector's way of comfort and reassurance.
* * * * *
Cortin kissed Odeon one last time before getting up. "Thanks,
Mike--I'm feeling human again, and I'm in fit condition to say Mass."
"I could tell." Odeon smiled at her. "Glad I could help."
"So'm I. Mind if I use your tub before I go get dressed?"
"Only if you're willing to have company," Odeon replied with a grin.
"I was hoping you'd say that. Come on."
They bathed in comfortable near-silence, then Cortin went to her room
to dress. She was feeling better, and it surprised her. The
circumstances hadn't changed, the odds against her and her team were
still bad, she was still sure she wouldn't survive her next meeting
with Shannon--but Mike was obviously a sovereign remedy for what had
ailed her. It was hard to believe he wasn't the Protector, but that
couldn't be, if the Protector might be a woman. Sis, maybe? Jeshua
had appeared in a Blue Sister's habit . . .
She forced herself to stop that line of speculation; the Protector's
identity would be revealed at the proper time. In the meantime,
speculation was pointless; she'd have enough to occupy her doing
whatever the Herald was supposed to do without having instructions.
Follow her instincts and Mike's guidance, she supposed.
When she opened the vestry door to approach the altar, she was
surprised to see the entire team--except Bain and Pritchett, who were
probably at Betty's by now--waiting, along with the rest of the Sealed
ones, Their Majesties, and some others of the Household, who normally
attended Mass at the Cathedral. Her surprise didn't last, though; as
usual, when she approached the altar her mind had no room for anything
except the ceremony.
That went normally until the Consecration. When she raised the Host
and the bell rang, the pain in her back vanished, and she remembered
the trade she'd agreed to. As she raised the Chalice, she felt warm
wetness circling her head, and on her wrists, back, side, and feet.
Her absorption in the Mass was complete enough she couldn't spare real
thought, but she was able to include a wordless prayer of thanks with
the Remembrance and other prayers before Communion.
The rest of the Mass went normally--the bleeding stopped as soon as
she'd administered Communion to the last of those who wanted it--until
the after-Mass prayers were finished. Then she was able to notice a
small table had been set up just inside the altar rail--a table like
the altar in the common-room--and she knew this was the beginning of
the Communion of Promise. But . . . should she give it, or should Mike
or Sis? She glanced at them, got the thumbs-up from Mike, and took a
deep breath.
Addressing the entire congregation, she gave a brief explanation of the
Protector--what she understood, at least--and the Families. She could
see doubt on several of the Householders' faces as she described them,
mixed with revulsion at her bloody state. She could understand that,
from civilians; the Enforcement people, to her relief, seemed more
intrigued and willing to believe her. "All of my team, myself
included--and a few others--are Sealed to the Protector, with Captain
Odeon and Lieutenant Chang as His or Her chief priests." She paused,
cocked her head, then smiled. "To simplify things, I'm going to use
the male pronoun; just remember the actuality could be either."
She paused again, sobering. "Under their authority as His
representatives, I invite those of you who wish to support Him, giving
up the ability to sin when He comes into the open and you can be
Sealed, to come forward and take His Communion of Promise."
She was pleased that all the Enforcement people did so, followed by the
King and Queen. More slowly, a few of the civilian Household followed
suit, though most held back. That was too bad, Cortin thought, but
she'd known not everyone would accept the Protector fully--some not at
all. And she had to admit her condition wasn't the most reassuring; it
was entirely possible they'd respond better to another celebrant.
When it was clear that everyone who wanted the Communion of Promise had
taken it, she dismissed the congregation and returned to the vestry,
where she began removing her bloody uniform. If this was going to
happen every time she said Mass, she'd have to have a shower installed
here--and get something to wear that wouldn't be ruined, or that didn't
matter. Whatever her position, she didn't care to ruin either a
uniform or a set of vestments every day!
There was a knock on the door, then Odeon's voice. "Need some help,
Colonel?"
"Yes--come in, please."
He did, along with Chang. "That was a little more spectacular than
anything we'd guessed at," he said quietly. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," Cortin said. "No pain at all, even in my back. I just look
like a mess." She grinned at them. "Jeshua said this trade would
help, and I think it did, with the Enforcement troops--but it looks to
me more like it scared most of the civs in the congregation."
"Sure it did," Odeon said. "Here, let me give you a hand with that
tunic-- What would you expect, the first time? We're trained to cope
with the unexpected, they aren't--and I've got to admit I was shocked.
Next time everyone'll expect it, and it will help. But--why didn't you
tell me?"
"Because I didn't remember till it happened." Cortin pulled herself
free of the sticky tunic, looking at it in dismay. "Sis, could you ask
someone to get me a fresh uniform? And I'm going to need some help
with sponge baths until I can get a shower put in-- Oh, dear God."
Her memory of the other "little thing" Jeshua had mentioned was
triggered. "Mike, Sis--take off your gloves." She pulled off her own;
yes, the burned-on symbols were now smooth pale-blue flesh.
"What in God's Name!" Odeon exclaimed, examining his hands and the
symbols that matched Cortin's. Chang's reaction was less emphatic; she
merely smiled, then went to pass along Cortin's request for clean
clothes.
When Sis returned, Cortin answered Odeon's question. "Was I wrong?"
she asked when she finished. "I was sure, but--"
"And you were right; if you'd left us out, you'd've had a major morale
problem. We were marked the minute we put on Special Ops patches, if
you remember." He studied the marks on the backs of his hands again,
smiling this time. "It's a difference in degree, not in kind."
"But it's a big degree," Cortin pointed out. "I got the impression
that Shayan's skill is to mine as mine is to a first-year recruit's.
And that's without using any of his powers--if he does use them, he
could make it last for . . . years, maybe, knowing you'd be free of him
as soon as you died."
"True, but years is still better than forever. And if playing with us
keeps his attention away from civs . . . well, that's why we all joined
the Service, isn't it?"
"Yes--though I doubt any of us thought, then, that it was Shayan
himself we'd be diverting. I know I didn't."
"Not directly, no," Odeon agreed. "But some of the ones under his
influence aren't much of an improvement." He paused, changed the
subject. "You did a nice job with the Communion of Promise."
"Thanks." Cortin tested the water temperature in the vestry's small
sink, then began washing blood off her arms. The wounds on her wrists
were as painless as she'd been promised, and looked freshly healed,
though she was certain they'd be open again every time she said Mass.
"Word of these and the Communion of Promise should reach Rome in three
or four hours, which means Pope Lucius will guess--or know--I'm the
Herald. He'll have to take some sort of action, even if it's not a
direct physical assault." She turned to Odeon, her expression grim.
"Much as I don't want it to, Mike, I'm afraid this is going to tear the
Church apart."
"So did the Great Revival, back in the 1500s," Odeon said. "It came
out of that stronger and healthier than ever--it'll do the same this
time, if the Protector wins."
"And if not, Shayan destroys humanity, at least in the Kingdoms."
* * * * *
Being acknowledged as the Protector's Herald--even "in part," whatever
that meant; she still wasn't sure she wanted to know--was a relief,
Cortin decided. At least also "in part", since she hadn't wanted that
kind of responsibility and wasn't at all sure she was up to it--but if
nothing else, it did explain why so many things had happened to her so
fast. She'd do her best to live up to the position she'd been given,
whatever her doubts; as Mike had said, God would test you to the
absolute limits of your endurance, but not beyond them.
And she had help. Not only the Sealed ones, but civilians, which had
been proven over the last week of getting ready for the Bains,
especially the children. She'd expected help from the team and
servants; it had astonished her to have the ladies from the New Eden
joyhouse show up, several with children, to make the third floor--to
quote Madame Bernadette--"a proper place to raise healthy, happy
children."
Since the children who'd come along were obviously both, Cortin wasn't
at all reluctant to defer to someone who clearly knew what she was
doing. While they worked, Cortin got to know several of the ladies,
discovering that their enthusiasm for the new family structure
shouldn't have surprised her; in spite of the fact they were paid for
sex, what they had was more like a Family than she would have thought
possible. Most of the men were regulars, and it was common for them to
visit for other than the obvious reason--mostly to play with the
children. Many contributed to their support, some quite generously.
And it wasn't unusual for working wives to board their children at the
New Eden during the day. After all, as one of the ladies pointed out,
where else would they get more adult supervision? Or, with so many
Enforcement troopers as clients and supporters, better protection?
Cortin had to agree. She still hadn't been able to work out a way to
provide for unmarried women who wanted--or had--children; the Families
were almost certain to face enough popular resistance without their
main proponent advocating the legitimizing of prostitution as well. In
spite of that, she had to agree there was considerable validity to the
ladies' arguments that they performed a public service and should have
the same sort of dispensation Enforcement did. Before the satyr virus'
appearance, she might not have thought that way; since it was a fact,
it had to be considered, and there were times people would be away from
even a large Family. Something would have to be done to accommodate
them, male and female both. That would have to wait, though;
establishing the Families had to come first.
In the meantime, she extended a standing invitation to the New Eden
ladies: they would be welcome at Harmony Lodge, with or without their
children, whenever they cared to visit. Prostitutes were becoming more
respectable; having the High King's Inquisitor/Protector's Herald
welcome them shouldn't hurt the process.
Despite the help, though, she was keyed up when the Family gathered in
the downstairs ballroom after Mass to wait for the Bains' arrival.
There was no reason for her apprehension, she kept telling herself;
she'd never had any trouble making friends with children or animals,
and Betty had been married to an Inquisitor's brother; she wouldn't be
afraid of one, and the children were too young to have any real idea
what an Inquisitor was. Her position as Herald wasn't anything to
frighten them, either, and word of her stigmata had hit the news hours
after they'd appeared; even those wouldn't come as a surprise. So what
in the Protector's Name did she have to be worried about?
Certainly not the Bains' reactions, she discovered as soon as they came
into the room and Dave started introducing them around. The two she'd
sent to help had obviously given them a thorough briefing; they fit in
as if they'd been part of the group for months, leaving Cortin with no
doubt that Betty'd be marrying in fairly soon.
She was the last to be introduced, and she saw concern on the two men's
faces as they approached. Bain made the introductions, then said, "We
heard what's started happening to you at Mass. Does it . . . Are you
all right?"
"It's painless, and I'm fine. Once I get cleaned up, anyway. What
about you?"
Pritchett looked at his gloved hands, then at hers. "No pain--but what
do they mean?"
Cortin explained as she had to the others earlier, then went on to tell
them the rest of her vision, pleased to see their expressions go from
worry to satisfaction.
"What about the others?" Pritchett asked.
"Brad and Ivan yes, Edward and Ursula I don't know; I haven't seen them
since."
"Doesn't seem right, somehow, to keep them covered," Pritchett said
slowly. "Now I know what they mean, I think they should be seen."
Cortin looked at him in momentary puzzlement, then shook her head
ruefully and removed her gloves, tucking them in the back of her belt.
"You're absolutely right, Tiny--with the meaning changed, they should
be. I suppose wearing gloves has gotten to be so much of a habit it
simply never occurred to me not to."