Interlude - Alumni

It was passing through a park in the Imperial City that Hemlock heard his name called.  She was sheltering from the incessant rain under a cedar tree, now stood just apart from a cluster of other sharply-dressed nobles.  Only she hadn’t called his full name, but “Lock”.

Yueying Li Halan.  Ebon-skinned, froths of lace at her cuffs, an elegant little duelling scar on one cheek.  “It is you!” she beckoned him out of the squall.

“Hello, Yueying,” under cover, Hemlock swept back his hood.

She gasped, “It’s true,” covering her grin with her fingers.

“What is?”

“But where did you get all these scars from?” she touched one carving a line down his cheek, “Have you been dueling Hazat-style?”

“Something like that.”  Keats might flinch.  Hemlock lifted his chin.

“And your eyes!  What on Urth possessed you?”

“Excuse me?” this conversation was quickly spiraling to unwelcome places.

“Ice blue suited you!  But grey?  They look like maxicrete!” Yueying grimaced, “I hope their functions make up for their colour.”

“My means were limited at the time.”  There was something else she’d said.  What was it?  Oh, yes, “What is true?”

“The Decados affair!”

“I was not aware I was of sufficient significance for my exploits to have reached Byzantium Secundus.”

“I like to keep track of my fellow Alumni.  And I’ve found one of our lost sheep!” she beamed (perfectly straight, bright teeth), “You’ve been a mysterious absence in the newsletter.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t read it, and I feel unchivalrous that my activities are monopolizing our reunion,” he should ask something, but her business with the abbey (he recalled) seemed too scandalous, and so long had passed since the academy that –

“Oh no!  You’re not getting off that easily!  Despite your house’s history, you were her first – what was it about her? – then you vanish for years and return with tattoos and piercings, and all in black.  Loose the purple cloak and you could be Decados!”

“No.  It all means something else,” flickers of someone else’s memories, a glimpse that maybe Hemlock isn’t real.  His voice cracked, rising, “Is this about the Lady Chastity?”

Yueying laughed, “Who else?  Duke Innocence emerges into society for the first time in years – one of his nephews is in the newsletter: you must remember Petenka – and his daughter proceeds to work her way through the whole Ravenna court, but she starts with you, and she was with you for far longer than any of her flings.  At the academy, I always wondered if you were saving yourself.  What was it about her?”

Hemlock frowned.  An affair with a Decados: that would make others remember his name.  But he’d always been a poor liar, “We were just good friends.”

“Of course you were.”

“Lady Chastity was an impeccable guest, and my failings as a host were not worthy of her.  While our last meeting was difficult, I continue to hold her in the highest regard, and look forward to meeting her again.  Please put that in the newsletter.”

“Sir Hemlock Justinian holds Lady Chastity Decados in the highest regard,” eyebrows raised, smiling at the prospect, “despite accusations of antimony?”

“Excuse me?”

“You hadn’t heard?” Yueying laughed.

“Whatever it is, I refuse to believe it.”

“Lock, where have you been?  She’s hunted by the inquisition, part of a coven that raised husks at one of your deep core cities a few years ago.”

“Deep core one-oh-three.  We encountered those husks.  Their antimonist died at my hand – an interesting duel since she was shielded and I was not – then we bombarded their ritual site.”  Hemlock scowled, “And I have experienced just how little regard some church officials have for facts.”

“So quick to defend her.  You’re sure those aren’t Decados tattoos?”

“A souvenir of the Lost Worlds.  I’m afraid I have to go,” he pulled up his hood, though the squall had passed.

“Wait!  Lost worlds?”

“Perhaps we could meet at a coffee house?”

“The Gilded Rat!” she called, as Hemlock strode away, “Ask for me there!”