Chapter 18

"Designation confirmed," the King said promptly. "As heir to an Archduchess, that makes him a Duke and his spouses . . . hmm." The King frowned, smiling at the same time. "I can see where we need some new terminology to fit the new Families. Calling a man 'Duchess'--or the equivalent for lower ranks--could lead to all sorts of confusion, even though it was the proper term for the spouse in a conventional family. And 'Duke-spouse' is clumsy. Suggestions, anyone?"

There was silence for a while, then Powell raised a tentative hand.

"Yes, my Lord?" the King said.

Powell looked startled, an emotion Cortin echoed until it made her grin instead. She wasn't the only one who'd have some adjusting to do! Then Powell gathered himself and went on. "It's a made-up word, but what about something like 'Dukida'? It's neutral sexually, and in zoology '-ida' is used in forming family names . . ."

"Sounds odd," the King said thoughtfully, "but then new words usually do. And the suffix fits with the other titles of nobility, takes a classical plural . . . Very well, so be it. Thank you, my Lord."

"I'm honored to be of service, Your Majesty."

"Now that we have that settled," the King said, "I understand Family Cortin is expecting its first child?"

"Yes, Sire," Cortin said. "And I hope soon becoming step-parents to three more." She explained about Betty and the children.

"Excellent. That makes me wish even more that I could forbid this entire Family from going into action, but that would defeat one of the new structure's purposes." The King frowned, addressing the entire group. "I have forbidden Colonel Cortin to go into danger except against those who personally harmed her, a ban that will also apply to Duke Michael after the convent raid and to Dukida Eleanor for the duration of her pregnancy. Unfortunately, I have to let the rest of you set an example. Just for God's sake, be careful!"

Odeon glanced at Cortin, then looked at the King. "For the Protector's sake, Your Majesty," he said quietly, "you can be sure we'll all be as careful as humanly possible."

* * * * *

The week and a half between Family Cortin's sudden promotion and the Bains' arrival was one of the busiest Cortin could remember. Besides her regular work, she tried to spend a couple of hours a day helping get the Lodge ready, then in the evenings the rest of the Sealed group came to help the Family get used to its new status and prepare for the responsibilities involved in running a new Archduchy, and after that for the Protector's Communion.

And the first Friday evening, Illyanov startled Cortin by announcing that he'd asked for discharge from St. Dmitri Enforcement, which he expected would be formally granted within two weeks, and that his wife and children would be moving to St. Thomas as soon as travel arrangements could be made.

Cortin stared at him in shock. "Ivan, why?"

"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."