Your loving,
Clem
Sam: Armoring
The use of armor in the living world is a vain and frivolous affectation. The man who dons a gauntlet or a breastplate for an outing in the park should remember that the very piece he wears has, perhaps, saved a life. Armor must be valued for its utility, not for its decorative appeal.
—Ernest L. Throckmorton,Armor in the Realm
Thursday, September 13, to Friday, September 14, 1888
My relief at Clementine’s triumph did not last long. I doubted very much that the Cisneros Society would abandon its pursuit simply because Clem had managed to outwit them once. No, on the contrary. They would persist, and perhaps now they would take into account Clem’s abilities.
I couldn’t think of how to communicate my concerns to Clementine, but, for once, we seemed to be of the same mind. Clem, too, was thinking about the next attack.
She spent only half the night on the three books, and the other half on the remainder of the Gleason manuscript. In the morning she put on her Commonwealth clothes: the trousers, the shirt, and the clean linen jacket. The dress with the bloodied sleeves, I noticed, had been thoroughly washed and was now hanging on the wardrobe door, waiting to be ironed.
Rosie looked curiously at her sister’s attire when she emerged from the bedroom. “Where are you going?”
“I have to go back to Commonwealth. To see Throckmorton.” She smiled. “I don’t want him to forget about me.”
Rosie looked worried. “Be careful, Clem. What if someone recognizes you from court?”
“I won’t set foot on the main campus. I’ll only go directly to his office, and it’s a quiet area, at the very edge. Would you let Wister know by messenger? I should be at Keel House by eleven.”
“I can tell her myself. I’ll be heading out this morning to collect papers at Peterson’s.”
“Very well. I’ll meet you at Keel House, then.”
As she left the apartment after eating breakfast, Clem withdrew the familiar spectacles and the tiepin. She affixed them carefully before heading out the door. I could tell her errand was a serious one because she paid for a coach. I was relieved, for I’d been dreading the long walk to Commonwealth and the quiet patches of road where the stones might ambush her again.
The students at Commonwealth are not, on the whole, early risers, but Throckmorton was already at his desk by nine when Clementine arrived at the door of his office. She stood for a moment on the threshold. Throckmorton hadn’t heard her yet; he was shuffling around in the pile of armor that barricaded his bookshelf. Livia stood by his desk and raised her eyes to Clem when she appeared. The spirit nodded her encouragement and gestured for Clem to come forward.
“Good morning, Professor Throckmorton!” she called cheerily.
“What?” The professor turned to face her, holding a steel gauntlet. “Ah, Mr. Quinn,” he said, raising the gauntlet in greeting. “Good morning. I’m glad to see you.”
“Thank you, Professor. I hope I haven’t disturbed you.”
“No, no—not in the least.” He looked winded and now hobbled back to his chair. “In fact, I was getting these for you.”
Clem looked astonished. “For me?”
“Yes, yes. Livia told me you were coming.” He smiled, showing a row of crooked yellow teeth. “Aha!” he chuckled. “It issometimes still very satisfying to be always one step ahead.”
“Truly, her powers are astonishing. How could she see the future?”
“Oh no!” Throckmorton scoffed. “Thews are not prophets. She only saw your thoughts as you neared campus.”
“Of course; I see. But why armor?”
“Well, I thought it might be time for you to see how the stuff actuallyworksrather than reading about it all the time. I’d like to ask for your assistance with some other research, but you won’t be prepared to do it until you’ve worked withreal armor.” In a flash, I understood. Of course! Clementine had suggested the idea to Livia as she neared campus. She would useactual armorto protect herself from the stones! Ingenious, simple, and effective; I sent Clem a rush of approval.
Throckmorton gave Clem a toothy grin. “In fact, it was Livia who suggested it. She said you wouldn’t get much further as my assistant without practical experience, and she’s right, as she usually is.” Throckmorton said this with satisfaction, as if his thew’s wisdom were an extension of his own. He dropped into his chair with a grunt and handed Livia the gauntlet. “There’s that one. Before I tell you what’s in the sack, how did you find the Gleason manuscript?”
“Oh, very interesting.” Clem reached into her satchel and handed a bundle of papers across to the professor. “Here’s the original,” she said, passing the pages to Livia, who took them silently. “I learned a great deal about the Providence portal. It was in an old church, I gather, and the portal was discovered, curiously, during a robbery. To evade the burglars, the priest stepped backward through the vestry door and discovered himself in the spirit realm. That occurred in 1762. The chronicler couldn’t determine how the portal was made. He had two theoriesbased on historical records relating to deaths at the church. There was mention of a priest who died of angina pectoris inside the church in 1711; that is one possibility. Another possibility is a parishioner—a woman—who came to the church seeking refuge from an enraged husband and died of her injuries. That was 1749. Gleason believes one of the two might have expired on the threshold to the vestry.”
“I see, I see,” Throckmorton said absently, thumbing through the pages. “What a loss that was, the Providence portal. Damned incompetent, the fellow who lost it. Better that it had been destroyed. If he’d only had the sense to burn the building down.” He shook his head. “What about armor? Does it mention any armor?”
