“Cub petting is abuse.”
“Aww, now you’re making me feel guilty.”
“You should.” Regina arched a brow. “Your crusade is over, I presume?”
Eric grinned. “For now.” Then he sobered. “Josephine’s killer is dead.”
“We would have, could have, helped you,” Regina said.
“It was safer for all of you if you were nowhere near me.”
The Spartan Guard led them to two SUVs. Eric climbed into the back of the first car, with Regina, while he, Annalise, and Jakob were ushered into the back of the second.
Walt felt a little bit like British royalty or the president of the United States as the guards not driving and occupying the passenger seats climbed onto motorcycles and formed a motorcade to guide them to Cashtal Ny Tree Cassyn.
Annalise served as an interesting tour guide as they traversed the island. She pointed out countless tourist attractions, while filling in details about the actual headquarters of the Masters’ Admiralty. Keanu Newman, the Spartan Guard driving their vehicle, added his own tidbits as well.
Apparently Cashtal Ny Tree Cassyn was a fortified manor house and estate. The main building was where the fleet admiral lived in private quarters on the third floor. The second floor had six bedrooms and a receiving room, while the first floor of the manor had a foyer, library, offices, and kitchen, as well as assorted other small rooms. The majority of the square footage of the first floor was given over to the great hall, which was where any and all large meetings were held.
Walt didn’t tell them that he knew the Trinity Masters had a similar place, though theirs was hidden under the Boston Public Library.
Once they arrived, they stepped out of the cars and joined Eric at the front entrance—a heavy wooden door set in a pointy-arched alcove. Walt noted the armed men who appeared atop the walls.
“Come on in,” Eric said, entering the place and looking around. When he muttered, “Home sweet home,” Walt couldn’t help but notice Eric’s obvious disdain for the place.
“Gina, my guests and I are going up to my office to take care of some business. Can you see that the guest room—the good one—is ready for them? They’ll be staying here tonight.”
Gina nodded. “Of course, Fleet Admiral.”
Eric gestured toward the stairs and the four of them started to climb, bypassing the second floor entirely as they headed for the third.
Eric opened a door at the top of the stairs and led them into a large office. The room was inviting with comfortable furniture, Oriental rugs, a huge oak desk near a window, and framed photographs on the wall of color shots of nature. Walt was certain Eric had taken the pictures of waterfalls, mountains, and landscapes himself during his travels.
“My office,” Eric said, as if that was all the tour they were going to get.
“Nice,” Walt said.
“Your sister, Sylvia, was the first person I recruited to the Masters’ Admiralty, and hers was the first trinity I married. Traditionally, both ceremonies are done by the admiral of the member’s territory, but I’m the boss, so I can change the rules if I want to.”
Walt chuckled.
“I want to thank you, Walt, Annalise, Jakob.” Eric’s voice lost the usual sarcastic tone Walt had become accustomed to. “For helping me find Josephine’s killer.”
Eric gestured for Walt to join him. “First, you join the Masters’ Admiralty. Then the marriage ceremony.”
Walt stepped away from Jakob and Annalise.
“Before we do this, you have to know the rules. These are nonnegotiable.”
“All right,” Walt said, for the first time a little nervous.
There was no teasing in Eric’s voice or manner now. “You will obey your territory’s laws. You will obey all orders and directives from your admiral and the fleet admiral. Me. You will marry by the age of forty-five—okay, clearly that one is not an issue. Your marriage will be arranged to benefit and preserve our society. When you have kids, you can’t tell them the name of, or details about, the Masters’ Admiralty. You can tell them you’re in a secret club, but no details. Still with me?”
Walt nodded.
“Okay, last one. Your membership is provisional for the first year. If you fail us, you will be assigned a job and a place to live, both of which we control, and you will be watched for the rest of your life.”
“That’s ominous,” Walt murmured.
“I’d say not to worry, but if I get assassinated sometime in the next year it won’t be up to me.”
“Don’t die.”
“Not planning on it. You ready?”
Walt looked over at Annalise and Jakob. “I’m more than ready.”
“Walter Hayden, you are called before me to join the Masters’ Admiralty. Do you stand before me today of your own free will and accord?”
“I do.”
“Raise your right hand.”
Walt lifted his hand.
“Do you hereby pledge your life to the ideals and principles of the Masters’ Admiralty? Will you obey the rules and decrees, maintain the honor and integrity of our society, encourage creative, original thought, and strive to improve the world?”
Walt let those words soak in, the weight, the importance of what he was about to do sinking in for the first time.
He nodded. “I will.”
“Repeat after me. Morumque scientia servabo.”
Walt repeated the words, recalling the Latin he’d learned in medical school. He was vowing to preserve knowledge and morality.
Eric went to the bookshelf and pulled down a large, ancient book. Carrying it to his desk, he flipped through hundreds of pages, before grabbing a pen and what looked like a dagger encased in a scabbard. He turned and jerked his head for Walt to join him.
He handed Walt the pen. “Sign your name here.”
Walt scanned the page. The last name entered was one he knew, the handwriting achingly familiar. He touched his sister’s signature. “Sylvie.” Beside her name there was a faded brown spot.
Smiling, he added his own signature, and then eyed the pages. “Think I could sneak a peek? Who else is in here?”
Eric snorted. “Behave yourself.”
Eric grabbed Walt’s left hand and poked the sharp tip of the dagger with the embossed triskele into his index finger.
“Ouch.”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Eric said in his normal tone, before once more adopting a more formal attitude. “Place a drop of your blood next to your signature.”
Walt squeezed his finger, letting the blood well. He reached out, but Eric gripped his wrist, stopping Walt just before he could drop his blood next to his name. “Membership is for life, and breaking our rules, disobeying our laws, disobeying me, can cost you your life. If you betray us, I will not hesitate to take yours.”
Walt had been around Eric enough to know he meant every word he spoke. He also knew there was nothing in this world that would make him betray the vow he was about to take.
He shook off Eric’s grip and pressed his bloody finger to the paper without hesitation.
Eric bade him to repeat in Latin once more. “Cum sanguinis mei, et cor meum recipienti pignori obligo animam meam.”
Walt spoke the words in Latin, translating them in his own mind. With my blood, I pledge my heart and my life.