CHAPTER 4
“Devon!” Jezebel growled at the man as he hurried up to her from outside. “I have been calling you for the longest time.”
Devon bowed deeply. “My apologies, my lady, but I come from the temple and hope that some good news might brighten your demeanor?”
Jezebel wasn't in the mood to be told she was in a bad one, but the prospect of news and what it most likely was concerning was tantalizing. She ushered him back inside the library.
The little strumpet girl was clearing away the last of the remains from Renee's visit. Jezebel glared at her until she gathered up the last of the dishes and closed the door behind her. She waited until the footsteps faded before turning to Devon. “Well? What is it?”
“After our little chat the other night with the brother, I took it upon myself to find out what these officiators of the event might be expecting of you at this ceremony you've been invited to.”
Jezebel sat forward in her chair excitedly. “And?”
“And, I can tell you that you'll be told about the society that you are joining, how it is designed to benefit the greater good of mankind and can help each of its individual members in exchange for complete secrecy and obedience.”
Jezebel waved a hand impatiently, “Yes, yes, yes. I know all that, but what am I supposed to do?”
Devon nodded his head once and grinned, sharing her excitement. “They'll read you the list of rules which you will swear an oath to uphold. My source was sketchy as to the details, but mainly they revolve around keeping it secret and carrying out orders that you'll be given. All you'll have to do is swear to it.”
“As long as they don't mind me adding my own twist to their orders,” Jezebel sneered.
Devon hesitated, and Jezebel thought she saw a flicker of concern flash across his features. “I have no doubt that you can handle yourself, my lady,” he said carefully, “but do remember that these are not scheming merchants that we are dealing with. These people are dangerous.”
Jezebel felt a stab of annoyance, but suppressed it. “Of course I will. Now, what else did you learn?”
Devon was silent for another second. Jezebel was about ready to snap at him that she could take care of herself when he continued. “Next, you'll be asked to share your deepest secret in front of their witnesses. The purpose for this seems to be so that they gain a certain level of control over you by playing on your guilt.”
“As if anything I might tell them would seriously give them the upper hand,” Jezebel scoffed. Devon had that look again so she sighed and made another impatient motion for him to go on.
“Finally, they will ask you a question, and this is the most important step.” Jezebel drew her eyebrows together, waiting for him to elaborate. “Now the correct answer to this question was tricky to find out. They'll ask you if you will denounce the rule of the King to show your obedience to them. My source indicated that if you refuse to do so, they commend you for your loyalty. Interestingly though, these candidates are still accepted but they never rise any higher in the ranks of the Order. If, however, you denounce the King, they believe that it shows that you will be loyal to them above all else. They see this response as a sign of intelligence, that you possess enough knowledge to understand that the greater good of humanity doesn't always correspond with the whims of the King. The people who give this response often find themselves with invitations to additional ceremonies and consequently move to higher levels within the Order.”
Jezebel sat back in her chair and lifted a hand to her chin, letting it all sink in. Devon waited patiently for her to respond. “This source of yours, how reliable is he and how likely is it that those at the ceremony would that know I have this information?”
Devon gave her one of his sadistic smiles. “My source is quite knowledgeable, and conveniently, he does not have any clue that he talked to me at all.”
Jezebel smiled, vaguely wondering at Devon's methods of obtaining the information, but was more concerned with the information itself. “Excellent. And the man we chatted with last night?”
“Taken care of, my lady. The pigs had a rather large breakfast this morning.” He laughed at his own personal joke, and Jezebel raised an eyebrow in amusement. Sometimes his callousness amazed even her. “I would like to warn you as well, my lady, that although it was never mentioned outright, I suspect that there is some sort of magical binding in addition to any oaths they have you swear to, so be prepared.”
“I'll do that,” Jezebel answered, only mildly surprised at this insight. It should be expected from any society such as this that they would take measures to ensure obedience and loyalty. She had no doubt her own magical power would withstand any invasion of will that they could muster against her, however, so she was not overly concerned with this possibility. When she had done her training with the Priesthood, she had suspected that they had tried to put a binding on her, but even only partially trained she had been able to keep them from containing her powers. She didn’t see why the Order would be any more difficult to withstand.
“I must admit that the society is extremely well formed and we were unable to discern the inner workings. My best agents can only make educated guesses at this point as to its real intent. Each level seems to believe in a different ultimate goal which disguises whatever the real purpose is. So again, I caution you.”
Jezebel digested this piece of information. Admitting any sort of failure to her was no small danger, as Devon well knew - though she did give him more leeway than the others. This society must be impressive indeed. Which just makes it all the more useful to me, she reminded herself. She soon fell into thought and dismissed Devon with a wave of her hand, telling him to send in someone with wine as he left.
She stood by the window, staring out into the growing darkness when the servant came with the wine. He poured it for her, and left it on the table next to the window before retreating. She hardly noticed his departure as she paced the room. What sort of story shall I put together as my shameful secret? She considered. It had to be something that they would think gave them leverage over her. She wondered what kinds of stories they must hear and hoped that she would get to hear others once she was inducted. No doubt that would prove amusing.
Her pacing led her back to the window and she reached for the wine. A cold breeze blew over her hand as she wrapped her fingers around the glass, and she looked over her shoulder to scold the servant for having left the window unlocked. Wasting money because of stupidity. Unfortunately, he was already gone. She clicked the lock back into place so that it wouldn't be opened again by the wind, grumbling. Must I do everything myself around here? She took a seat and cradled the wine.
Jezebel spent the next half hour perfecting her lie, going over every possibility and deciding which emotions would best fit with it. When she was satisfied that she had a believable story, she swallowed the last of her wine and went to find a servant to get her dressed and perhaps practice bits of the story on. She stood, momentarily dizzy, and thought absently to herself, perhaps I should not have had quite so much wine.