Текст книги "Heir To The Dragon "

Автор книги: Robert N. Charette

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

2

Streets of Kuroda, Kagoshima

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

17 May 3018

 

By the time Theodore recognized from the echoes that he had entered a dead end, his pursuers had rounded the corner and entered the alley. There was no time to climb away from them unless he could delay them somehow. Reaching for his pouch of flash grenades, he found it gone, cut away in the sword fight. He steeled himself to turn and fight for his life as a stirring in the gloom told him the situation had just gotten more complicated.

From the darkness at the alley's end stepped another black-clad figure. The hood of this one's sneaksuit was pulled down around his neck and his faceplate swung from a loop on his belt. Apparently, he disdained the advantage of night vision to face his cornered quarry. His face was hard, its flesh glistening with a light sheen of sweat. The redheaded man held a katanain his right hand. With his left, he reached into a pocket set into the sleeve of his sword arm and laughed confidently.

Theodore skidded to a halt, his own hand snaking behind his back. Arrogance has no place in a warrior's heart,reminded Tetsuhara– sensei's voice. Quite right,Theodore agreed. And this man shall pay for his arrogance.

He drew a packet from his pocket and squeezed it hard before flinging it at the new opponent. Simultaneously, he dove to his right, using the momentum of his throw to pull himself into a roll.

The sudden move saved him from the redhead's missile, which whizzed past Theodore to strike with meaty thunk at one of the other pursuers. Hearing a clatter of debris and a whuffing sigh, he reckoned that one of the three behind him was out of the fight.

Theodore's own missile disintegrated in flight as the chemicals released by his squeeze ate through the thin walls of the bag and released the contents. A fine mist wreathed the head of the bare-faced man. He collapsed in a fit of coughing, temporarily incapacitated.

Coming out of his roll, Theodore was beset by the remaining two. They circled him, maneuvering as a team. Every time Theodore tried to draw his sword, one or the other would press an attack, forcing Theodore to abandon his attempt and concentrate on blocking or avoiding their blows.

They were cautious, having seen how well Theodore fared against their comrades. They took their time, contriving to set him up for a decisive attack that would not expose either of them to a crippling counterattack.

Watch the pattern,Comerford– sensei's ghostly voice advised.

Control the ma-ai,Tetsuhara– sensei's spectral tones demanded. A true warrior is always in control of the distance of engagement.

"Hai!"Theodore shouted as he caught the pattern and acted. He spun on his heel and launched a flying kick at the shorter of his two attackers. Thinking himself safely out of range, the man failed to counter completely and tumbled backward into the grime-smeared bricks of the alley wall.

Theodore's rebound dropped him to the ground, where he lay loose-limbed and sprawling. The tall one dove on him to take advantage of his disorientation from the bad fall, only to find Theodore's helplessness was a sham. Rolling away from the attack, Theodore let the man slam into the refuse-strewn ground. His own kick at the man's head was weak, but did serve to further daze his opponent.

Heedless of proper form, Theodore scrambled on top of the man. The man struggled to avoid his grip as Theodore slipped a choke-hold around the assassin's windpipe. Not trusting his strength at this point, Theodore went for a steady choke rather than trying to snap the man's neck. His opponent's struggles were slowing when a hand gripped Theodore's shoulder. "Enough."

Theodore spun, awkwardly because he was straddling a body. The backfist he threw in turning was caught effortlessly by the new arrival and held in a grip of titanium. His knee, directed at the newcomer's groin as Theodore tried to straighten up, was adroitly deflected by the man's hip. The man effortlessly redirected Theodore's energy, crashing him onto his back.

"Enough, I said."

Wind gone, Theodore lay weak and vulnerable. He squinted his eyes down to a slit in an effort to steady the doubled images he perceived. Even with his blurred vision, he recognized the smiling face of Subhash Indrahar, the man his father had elevated to Director of the Internal Security Forces.

Such a highly placed traitor,Theodore lamented. My mentor, a man I had thought a friend. You always took my side against Father. Now your true colors show. Now, it seems, my life is forfeit to misplaced trust.

"Do not think me a traitor, my young friend. As ever, I stand behind you as heir to the throne of the Draconis Combine. And do not think too unkindly of poor Kathleen. She only followed my orders. These men you have faced are a final exam of sorts, a test of your mettle," Subhash said, sweeping his arm to indicate the six men gathered around them, including the teary-eyed redhead and the one wearing Theodore's own discarded finery. "You have passed quite well."

"You had me in fear for my life."

"Of course. Only at the edge of death does a man truly live, and show whether he is truly a man." Subhash extended a hand to help Theodore to his feet. "You have shown that you are a man. Rough around the edges, perhaps, but refinement will come with time.

"I have known you since childhood, and I believe that I know the sort of man you are. You see the Combine as I do, the strongest hope of unification for the Inner Sphere. You believe, as I do, that the Combine must come before all, that is must be preserved to perform its destiny of reunification.

"Now I ask you to join with these men in a society dedicated to that end. I ask you to join the Sons of the Dragon."

Subhash waited for Theodore's reply. Though his mentor smiled benevolently, Theodore sensed the taut expectancy. Around him, the other men began to shift nervously.

He was at once touched and alarmed by Subhash's offer. The ISF Director was a man he had idolized for many years. His belief in Theodore's potential was something the young heir wanted to reward after his long and difficult childhood and adolescence. Yet this secret society of Indrahar's whispered of intrigues and dark alleys, things alien to the samurai Theodore believed himself to be.

The offer lay before him. If he refused now, it would never come again. Something in Subhash's voice and the tense stance of the men around him spoke eloquently of a unique opportunity. If he did not join, they would go their own ways and he would hear no more of it. Until he crossed them in some way. Subhash had become one of the most respected, and feared, ISF Directors in centuries. He was a good man to have as an ally and a bad one to have as an enemy.

Theodore smiled and executed a sharp bow. "I am honored."

Subhash clapped him on the shoulder. "I am pleased."

The tension in the alley evaporated. In the joking and verbal replay of the combats that followed, Theodore ventured, "Subhash-sawa, wouldn't you say that seven opponents were too many for one not well-versed in this type of nighttime activity?"

"You handed all six agents quite well, Theodore-sawa," Subhash replied with a pleased grin. "And I was no opponent at all."

Theodore was taken aback by the ISF Director's response, but said nothing. He looked carefully at the men around them, noting their height and build, the way they moved. Thinking back over his night's adventure, he was certain that he had encountered each only once. Moreover, none of the group fit the physical type of the swordsman who had wounded him. There was more going on than he understood. The words of old Zeshin, his childhood companion, came to him: A wise man listens when he has no words to speak.

Given what had happened this night, Theodore decided that was very good advice

3

Snorri's Tavern, New Samos, Kirchbach

Rasalhague Military District, Draconis Combine

17 May 3018

 

"Do you think he'll come?"

Of the five men and two women in the back room of Snorri's Tavern, the speaker was clearly the most nervous. Having drawn stares from the others with his question, he began to fidget with the gold braid decorating the shoulders of his tunic. His restless fingers had already unraveled one of the tassels and added to the frayed look of the ancient uniform jacket.

The bearded man sitting at the head of the table knew, as did all present, that the fat man in the outlawed uniform of the Rasalhague Prince's Guard was not entitled to wear it. His fellow conspirators tolerated his affectation because of the wealth he brought to the enterprise. The bearded man suppressed a sigh. Leading this odd assembly of personalities was a trial, made no easier by the wretched places where they often met. Slums were hardly in keeping with his dignity or that of their cause.

"Of course he will come," the leader assured the agitated man. "This matter touches too closely his own interests."

"He could betray us," warned one of the women. She was grim-faced and apparently calm, but her voice held just a hint of fear.

"He won't," the leader said, stroking his salt-and-pepper beard in a casual gesture of confidence meant to bolster his fellows. "His position with the Dragon is shaky enough. He has let his ambitions show too clearly of late, and his enemies in the court on Luthien are almost in position to deny his petition for elevation to the status of Archduke over the five worlds he controls. Add to that the fact that the Coordinator sent no Kurita troops to help him defend against the recent raids by House Steiner, and you will find a man who believes he has no future with the Dragon."

"He might see betraying us as a way to regain favor," countered a tall man, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His carriage showed him to be a military officer, but his drab, worn clothes were those of a mercantile messenger. A DCMS-issue laser pistol, its grip stained from years of use, rode in his low-slung messenger's holster.

"Such a betrayal might, indeed, gain him influence at Court, but there will be no treachery." The bearded man smiled with satisfaction. "As I said, our friend's ambitions have been all too obvious of late. More to us here in the District than to Luthien. I have accumulated certain evidence and prepared it for release to certain individuals. In doing so, I have guaranteed that if he betrays us, he will fall with us. He won't risk that."

"Hassid Ricol is a daring fellow," the military man warned.

Several in the circle drew in sharp breaths at the mention of their expected visitor's name. "No names," one hissed.

The military man harrumphed in contempt of the others' timidity. "Jessup has assured us that the lostech artifact he brought will mask our talk from any ISF listening devices."

"I said should,not will"Jessup shouted heatedly. "You endanger us all with your loose talk."

The military man started across toward Jessup, but the bearded man blocked his path, catching the other man's arm.

"At ease, Colonel. He's just upset at your breach of the agreed-upon protocols."

Jessup had scrambled back, knocking over his chair when the Colonel started forward. Now, from the safety of his position behind two other conspirators, he taunted the other man. "And rightly upset, you loose-mouthed warhorse! If you can't be trusted to control your tongue in a relatively safe place, how can we trust you when out of our sight?"

The Colonel bristled at the slight to his honor. Despite the drag of the bearded man's grip, his hand closed around the butt of his pistol. "Why, you little ..."

"Such a cozy circle of friends. Reminds me of the court on Luthien."

The squabbling group of schemers froze in place. Heads turned toward the man who spoke from the doorway.

Tall and well-built, he was a sharp contrast to the mousy fellow at his side. The man's athletic build was cunningly accentuated by a finely tailored suit of deep burgundy cloth, trimmed in gold at cuff, collar, and lapel. A scarlet sash hung to his left hip, where a katanain tachi-stylemount rode in a vermillion scabbard. A velvet half-cape, of a red so deep that it appeared black in the low light of the room, hung suspended from his right shoulder in the style of high courts throughout the Inner Sphere. Coolly surveying the assembled conspirators, Duke Hassid Ricol casually removed his fine oxhide gloves.

The bearded man was quick to recover. He waved away Ricol's guide, ignoring the man's apologies for failing to warn the group of their guest's arrival. Also ignoring the still angry Colonel at his side, he stepped forward, smiling.

"You are most kind to join us, Your Grace."

"I have not joined you yet, Jarl ..."

"You know us, friend, and we know you," the bearded man cut in before Ricol could speak his name. The naming of ranks was dangerous enough. Though he had confidence in Jessup's device, he was not the sort of man to take chances. "Show us the courtesy of using no names save those we give you here."

Ricol inclined his head to show he understood and gave a small smile. Something in that smile struck the bearded man as a trifle condescending, but he dismissed his unease.

"I am Diamond," he announced, and then proceeded to introduce the rest of his group. Each conspirator went by the name of a gemstone. He concluded by giving Ricol a codename. "And you, my friend, shall be known as Ruby. Together we are the jewels of the princely crown of Rasalhague.

"Sit here," said Diamond, indicating a seat next to a compdeck. "Let us show you an outline of our plan."

Powering up the console as Ricol sat down, Diamond then slipped an iridescent disk into the slot and settled himself next to the Duke. The rest of the conspirators watched anxiously as Ricol began the long process of reviewing the data.

At one point, he paused and looked up. "There are some areas that seem ill-defined."

"Make your inquiries of the computer, friend Ruby," Diamond directed. "All the information you desire is included in the databank—but without the risk of being overheard."

Turning back to the screen, Ricol did not bother to conceal his annoyance. Diamond ordered refreshments to occupy the others while they waited on the Duke. Finally, Ricol sat back, massaging a stiffened neck.

"Will you join us?" blurted the man in the outlawed military uniform.

Ricol looked him in the eye, and the man's stare faltered. "I'll take it under advisement."

"That is not a commitment," Diamond observed.

"You are not yet successful," Ricol countered.

"Uncommitted men are dangerous," the Colonel observed, his voice hard with implied threat. "Dangerous men have accidents."

"People who react when there is no threat are nervous. Nervous men have accidents, too," Ricol replied, but his tone was nonchalant. Focusing on the Colonel, he added, "Stay out of my way and I will stay out of yours. Make my life difficult and I will take yours."

The Colonel stiffened. His eyes narrowed at the threat, but he said no more. The bearded man hoped that it was the beginning of caution in the Colonel's headlong attitude. He pulled his thoughts back to their guest as Ricol addressed his next words to the group as a whole.

"Your plans do not conflict with mine. For the moment, I suggest that we all pursue our own interests. Perhaps we can help each other when circumstances arise later. Say, when such actions are mutually beneficial."

"I'm sure we will find many such mutually beneficial circumstances in the future," Diamond assured him.

Ricol smiled as he stood. "Your scheme is intriguing. We can talk again after you have carried through on your next steps."

Diamond admired Ricol's composure as the Duke turned his back on the conspirators and left without a further word. As soon as the Duke was out the door, his former guide stuck his head through the doorway. Diamond nodded to him, indicating that the man should follow Ricol as planned.

In hushed whispers, the group assessed the result of the meeting. Diamond watched the silent Colonel, observing the roiling emotions the military man so. injudiciously allowed to show on his face. He was not surprised when the Colonel silenced the conversation by slapping his hand hard against the table.

"Kill him," the Colonel said simply, brown eyes locked with Diamond's own cool blue.

"No," the leader responded. His voice held conviction and the authority of a man who had spent years as a planetary ruler.

The Colonel was not subdued; he had stood up to planetary rulers before. "He will betray us."

"Again, no. We've persuaded him. He will come to us when the time is right."

Diamond had no trouble seeing that the Colonel was not convinced, but the man's shrug showed that he was willing to wait. The others were relieved when the man retreated from the room and expressed confidence in their leader's assessment of the situation. Then they, too, dispersed.

The bearded man was equally relieved. With Ricol, he had secured the last of his preliminary supporters. One final piece to set in place, then he could order the start of action.

His goal was in sight. While the others dreamed of freedom and national sovereignty, he looked further. They would never understand his vision, he knew, but that was unimportant. They only needed to play their parts, unwittingly setting him on the path to rulership. He looked forward to the power he would wield. There was so much good he would do, so many wrongs he would right. His name would be remembered forever.

4

Governor's Mansion, Kuroda, Kagoshima

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

18 May 3018

 

Constance Kurita stifled a yawn. She automatically arrested the hand that rose to rub her sleep-filled eyes, then remembered she wore no cosmetics to smudge. She allowed herself the luxury of freeing the hard particles that clung to her eyelashes. Then she gave all her facial muscles a hard rub. She was never at her best in the predawn hours, and years of meditation vigils had done little to change that.

The urgent summons brought by her maid had left no time to apply her usual court make-up. She had chosen her simplest garb, an amber-colored Pillarine robe, and bound her lustrous black hair at the nape of her neck after only the most cursory brushing. ShudochoOda would not look kindly on a tardy novice, even if she was a member of the ruling Kurita clan. Within the Order of the Five Pillars, Oda was her superior. As long as she was an active member of the Order, Constance was obligated to respond when he called. He never abused the privilege and was most circumspect about her social position, so far above his own.

The message had mentioned that she was to meet with Florimel Kurita, her great aunt and Keeper of the House Honor. Constance believed she knew the true author of the summons.

The Keeper was the custodian of the Combine's religious, ideological, and social codes. In her charge was the Dictum Honorium, a detailed and complex set of conventions and axioms originally compiled in 2334 by Omi Kurita, daughter of Shiro, first Coordinator of the Draconis Combine. Much like the samurai "house codes" of ancient Japan, the Dictum set forth guidelines for the proper conduct and concerns of a subject of the Kurita clan. Centuries had enlarged that document with the wisdom, and sometimes the follies, of succeeding Coordinators and Keepers. As custodian of the document and the ultimate authority over its contents, the Keeper of the House Honor was a powerful figure in Kurita society and a significant check on the office of the Coordinator. As part of that check, the Keeper ruled the pervasive Order of the Five Pillars, known colloquially as O5P.

Constance herself had joined the Order after secondary school when her sex barred her from further formal education. She knew that O5P was in part a teaching order. Those who teach, she had reasoned, must hold the knowledge that is taught. Her action had galvanized her father, Marcus Kurita, to action. He had arranged for her to be tutored in law by one of the finest lawyers in the Combine, in the hope that she would renounce the Order to follow the lure of knowledge he dangled before her. She had accepted the tutor, but remained with the Order, dreaming of rising to the honored rank of jukurensha.Vowing that his daughter would not be sent to wander as a penniless teacher in the Combine's outback, Marcus then used his influence as Warlord of the Rasalhague District to persuade the masters of O5P to keep her on Luthien, where he might see her during his sojourns in the capital.

Constance had accepted with delight, for she had not relished giving up the pleasures of court life. She also realized that she would better tread the path of an Adept if nearer to the center of power and wisdom.

Constance's musings were cut off as the door slid open to reveal ShudochoDevlin Oda, back-lit by the lamps in the corridor. Oda slid the door closed and walked silently across the mats to the east wall to bow before the small shrine, lit softly by light from the shojiwalls of the corridor. The shrine was in the ancient Ryuboshintotradition, consisting of an intricately carved gilded box in decorative and figurative motifs. The box stood on a pedestal of ivory carved in the serpentine shape of the Kurita dragon. Surrounding it were five candle stands, each of a different material: gold, ivory, steel, teak, and jade. Each material symbolized one of the five Pillars that supported Kurita society.

The shudochoreached out to each of the stands in turn, lighting a red wax candle there. The last one he lit was the Pillar of Ivory, which Constance took as a sign. Ivory symbolized religion and philosophy, the realm of O5P itself.

Oda knelt across from Constance. Though bursting with curiosity, she said nothing, for the shudochogave no sign that speech was allowed. When Constance flicked her eyes in the direction of the low dais that formed the northern end of the room, she found Florimel seated there. At some point, the old Keeper had silently taken her place.

The Keeper was dressed in a floral-printed formal kimono whose colors hinted properly of the spring. Her posture was straight, causing only the absolute minimum of folds in her garb. She was seated on a stool, a concession to her seventy-six standard years. Florimel's cerulean eyes gazed from a porcelain face, composed and painted with formal court make-up despite the hour. The effect denied her years, making her look thirty years younger. Those eyes seemed kindly now, but Constance knew they were capable of sudden shifts. She had seen them flash hard and unforgivingly toward enemies of the realm.

"ShoshinshaConstance," Florimel began. "The dawn will bring a new day, graduation day for the current class of the Wisdom of the Dragon School. This night there is another graduation, one not marked with the pomp and ceremony of a military academy. This graduation will be one of simplicity, pure in its essence and harmonious with the Way. So it must always be for the Order of the Five Pillars.

"We only recognize what is."

Florimel stopped speaking. The silence grew so long that, had the old woman on the dais been anyone other than her great-aunt, Constance would have assumed she had fallen asleep.

"This night we recognize that you, Constance Kurita, are no longer a student. Accept our congratulations, JukurenshaConstance. You shall greet the sun as an Adept of the Order of the Five Pillars."

Constance found herself unable to think clearly. Here, un-looked for, was the goal she had sought for years. She had not thought herself ready. There was so much more to learn.

"Well, child, have you nothing to say?" Florimel asked with a smile in her eyes as well as on her lips.

"I am surprised," Constance said haltingly. "I had not thought to achieve this goal so soon."

A little of the joy left Florimel's smile. "Your journey is far from over, daughter of my heart. You have achievednothing, save another step. An Adept is not perfect. Perfection is a journey, not a goal. Honor is found in that journey. To have achieved the goal, or more accurately, to believe that one has achieved the goal, is failure.

"My confidence in you is great. There will be no failure."

"I am honored by your confidence, JokanFlorimel," Constance replied.

Oda's laugh shattered the tranquil formality.

"You are to be honored by more than that, Constance -sama,"Oda assured her in a dry voice.

Constance looked up sharply at the shudocho,but his expression was closed, his intent shuttered from her view. She turned to her great aunt.

Florimel gave her a comforting look before turning her gaze toward Oda. "Oda-kun,you are less distant from the confusions of youth than am I. If I can show tolerance, so can you. Mind your manners."

"Very well, Jokan,"Oda acquiesced with a bow. When he straightened, he faced Constance. His voice was harsh with a leashed emotion that Constance could not identify. "It is true that you shall greet the dawn as a jukurensha,but by the sun's setting, you shall no longer be one."

"What!" Constance's eyes went wide with shock.

"Regrettably, it is necessary that you leave my Order."

When no further words were forthcoming from the shudochoand a search of his stony face yielded nothing, Constance turned to her great-aunt. Her dismay dissolved as she caught a gleam of mischief in the old woman's eyes.

"He is quite correct, Constance," Florimel said, her voice stern. "You must leave the Order if you are to take the next step on your journey.

"This day, before Devlin Oda, Lord of the Pillars, I declare you my successor as Keeper of the House Honor."

"What!" Constance gasped, feeling foolish for repeating herself. Her wits had deserted her. The sharp reactions of what her father liked to call her "lawyer's mind" had vanished. Embarrassed, Constance reached deep within for the calm she had been taught to cultivate. After a shamefully long time, she stammered, "How can I accept? I am unworthy. I am not prepared."

"Of course you are not prepared," Florimel said, her voice softer. "That is why I make this declaration now. I'm not getting any younger, you know.

"To everyone outside this room, you will become one of my aides, little more than a servant. They will not know you are my successor, Oda-senseiand I will help you prepare to take my place. It will not be easy, but much of the work has already been done in your Pillarine training. You have learned our philosophy and goals, and partaken of our mental and physical disciplines. Now we shall focus that training and expand that learning."

Seeing that Constance was still distressed by the sudden changes in her life, Florimel added, "It is proper that you should feel unworthy. Had you felt deserving of the position, you wouldbe unworthy, totally unsuitable.

"Make an old woman happy, Constance. Say you will take my place."

Constance searched Florimel's eyes, reaching to feel the old woman's heart as the Pillarines had taught her. She found the strength she knew to be there, strength that proved Florimel's plea of old age a sham. Florimel asked from strength, not weakness. Her desire that Constance succeed was a fierce flame that cindered Constance's objections.

"JokanFlorimel would not make a mistake in this matter, JukurenshaConstance," Oda declared, trying to push Constance toward the decision she had already made.

"JokanFlorimel, I bow to your wisdom," Constance said with a smile, and Florimel's answering smile sealed the pact.

Oda harrumphed his approval of a recalcitrant girl's reluctant acceptance of duty.

"Now then, Constance, I have another bit of business tonight," Florimel announced. "Come kneel beside me here. It is time for you to begin learning more about our affairs."

As Constance took her new place at Florimel's side, Oda opened the door to admit five persons. Four wore the rust-colored robes of Pillarine monks, their shoulders broadened by the stiff, yoke-like collars of off-white armorplast. Each of the four wore a sash and collar tie of a different color: green, brown, gold, and ivory. Four of the five pillars, Constance noted. Each monk's sash was tied in the simple knot that indicated a high-ranking Adept. All wore the hoods, complete with one-way visors, that hid their faces as thoroughly as their robes hid their body contours.

The fifth figure was bare-headed and wore a black ISF sneaksuit. Constance was amazed at the beauty of the woman's delicate features. She needed no cosmetics to enhance the even, golden glow of her skin or her dark-lashed, slanting eyes. The combination of asian features and skin tone over the her strong Caucasian bone structure was exquisite. Her shining raven hair was curled close to her skull like a helmet, the ends stirring only slightly as she strode into the square formed by the monks.

All five bowed to the shrine, then to Florimel, and finally to Oda. Without a word, the woman advanced to Oda and knelt before him. He placed a Pillarine collar over her shoulders. As she rose, she tugged the attached hood up and slid the visor down over her features. As the dark-haired woman returned to the other monks, Constance saw the steel grey sash and observed the practiced ease with which she tied it into an Adept's knot.

All five bowed again to Florimel. The woman advanced and knelt before the dais. Head bowed, she offered up a dark leather pouch with a cut strap.

"Here is his pouch," she announced. "I have failed."

Florimel signaled Constance to take the pouch from the woman's hands. "You have brought what you were sent after. Why do you speak of failure?"

"I cut him. His blood is on my sword." Hands now freed from their burden, she placed her palms on the floor and deepened her bow. "Please accept my request for dismissal from the Order."

"How did this happen?" Oda asked from the back of the room.

"He was too strong for my technique," the woman answered, without moving.

From the corner of her eye, Constance saw Florimel smile.

"You bring good news, Jukurensha"Florimel declared, rejecting the request for dismissal by her use of the woman's rank within the Order.