Warrior: Riposte (The Warrior Trilogy, Book Two): BattleTech Legends, #58

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Even Justin had a hard time keeping his face impassive at Candace’s reply. “Why, Colonel,” she cooed, “that must have been a most difficult question for many of the guests to answer.”

  Though Ardan managed to smother a chuckle, amusement lit his handsome face. “Truer words have seldom been spoken. Citizens of Houses Marik and Kurita have split over the issue, though your father and sister have chosen to represent themselves as friends of the bride.”

  Justin nodded. “Choosing the lesser of two evils,” he said evenly.

  Ardan smiled cautiously. “An interesting perspective, Citizen.”

  Candace flicked a cool gaze at Justin, and he fell silent. Quite right, Candace. This is not the time or the place for rancor.

  Candace slipped her arm through the crook of Ardan’s elbow. “If you think the Prince would not find it offensive, Colonel, I would wish to sit on his side of the aisle. I do this as the first installment on the debt I owe him.”

  Ardan raised an eyebrow. “Debt, Duchess?”

  “Yes, because the Prince did not attack the St. Ives Commonality after the unfortunate terrorist attack on Kittery. My passions do not run as hot, nor my blood run as cold, as they do for others in my family at the mere mention of Prince Hanse Davion’s name.”

  “A wise decision,” Ardan said with a slight smile before turning to Justin. “Citizen Xiang, if you will follow us.”

  Justin went along with them, but his mind was elsewhere. What game is Candace playing? Sitting away from the Chancellor while her sister sits close by can only serve to weaken her relationship with her father. Romano’s stock may be very low with her father right now, but it rises with every passing day that ComStar does not punish House Liao. Candace must know that whatever she says to Ardan will get back to the Prince.

  Organ music filled the cathedral with strong, impassioned notes as Ardan led the couple to a pew parallel to that occupied by the Capellan Chancellor and directly behind Jaime Wolf. Candace slid into the pew with a rustle of blue silk, but Justin genuflected automatically before joining her.

  She laid her left hand upon his right. “Why did you do that?”

  “Old habits die hard,” he said with a shrug. “I was raised in the New Avalon Catholic Church, but I renounced my faith when Hanse Davion stripped me of my name. Since then, I have begun to study the Buddhist beliefs of the Capellan Confederation.”

  Candace squeezed Justin’s hand. She nodded toward the altar where two men in gold-trimmed white vestments sat in canopied chairs emblazoned with medieval crests. “Perhaps, with your knowledge of religion, you could tell me why we have two priests to officiate at this wedding.”

  Justin leaned closer to the duchess. “Those are cardinals, not just priests. The one on the left is Francis Flynn, of the New Avalon Archdiocese, and the one on the right is John Maraschal of the Tharkad Archdiocese. Because the Prince is New Avalon Catholic and the Archon-Designate is Roman Catholic, the wedding mass is to be concelebrated.”

  Candace frowned in puzzlement, prompting Justin to continue. “Two hundred and eighty years ago, when Stefan Amaris usurped the Star League throne, his goons occupied the Vatican. In response to the emergency, the pope transferred church control to the cardinals on the capitals of the five Houses. Unfortunately, the pope’s message to New Avalon was garbled in transmission, and the New Avalon cardinal ended up believing he’d been given control of the entire Catholic Church.

  “It took thirty years to elect a new pope. During that time, the New Avalon branch of the Church initiated some reforms—such as allowing priests to marry—that created difficulties with the Church’s mainstream. Since then, the two denominations have not reunited, though they openly recognize their common beginnings and respect each other’s offices. To keep the peace, both cardinals will officiate at the ceremony, though they will forego the Mass that usually accompanies a wedding celebration.”

  Leaning back against the pew’s oaken back, Justin allowed his mind to drift as he studied the beautiful architecture of the cathedral. Like the trunks of venerable redwoods, massive white marble columns rose strongly from the floor to support the vaulted ceiling. Above the central aisle, a vast stained glass mural depicting the Last Judgment glowed red, blue, and gold in the midday sun. Painstakingly exact reproductions of frescoes from the Sistine Chapel decorated the ceiling’s vaults and won grudging admiration from Justin.

  Once I would have marveled at these images and assumed that they thrilled me because of the story they represented. He glanced at a corner painting depicting David beheading the slain giant Goliath. Seeing that picture on a holodisk about Michelangelo inspired me to become a MechWarrior. Even now, it still has the power to take my breath away.

  Justin studied the stained glass windows in the exterior walls, his gaze lingering on the huge rose window above and behind the ornate marble altar. I know the Church built this cathedral from the rubble of churches destroyed during the civil war started by Stefan the Usurper. But instead of it being a curious collection of unrelated styles, the unity of a theme binds everything together. Like the shrine back on Sian, this is a place of peace.

  Justin smiled to himself. Be careful, warrior. If you begin to think like a philosopher, you will lose your edge. That edge is the only thing that keeps you alive. Justin chewed his lower lip. Grant the ceremony and the Prince the respect he and it are due.

  Seeing Ardan Sortek escort the Archon to her seat in the front row on the left side of the aisle, Justin smiled slightly. Interesting to see the Archon in civilian dress instead of the paramilitary uniforms she normally wears. She is, indeed, a beautiful woman.

  Another usher guided Marie Davion, the Prince’s half-sister, to a spot of equal importance on the Davion side of the aisle. Michael Hasek-Davion, his hair in its characteristic braid, joined his wife. Justin narrowed his eyes. The duke seems ill at ease. I suspect he sees this marriage as the destruction of his chances to take the Federated Suns throne. Justin caught himself. Still, as long as Hanse has no heir, Michael’s path to the throne remains open. And as long as Michael is alive, he will aspire to the throne.

  Moments later, the six ushers filed up the aisle and seated themselves farther along in the front row. As members of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, all wore dress uniforms decorated with gold braid, medals, and campaign ribbons. They sat tall and proud, and for the barest of moments, Justin envied them.

  Through a side door behind the altar, Morgan Hasek-Davion led the Prince to his place a third of the way down the aisle. Both men wore the deep blue uniform of the Davion Heavy Guards, but aside from the insignia of rank, neither had added any medals or ribbons to their jackets. Justin admired that. Neither of these men needs trinkets to remind others of their bravery. Anyone with eyes to see can read it in their stance and in their eyes.

  As the organ music shifted smoothly to the familiar tones of a wedding march, all the guests rose as one and turned to face the rear of the cathedral. Justin strained unsuccessfully to see through the crowd, but the growing wave of hushed whispers proceeding from the rear told him the procession had begun.

  Finally, he saw the first members of the wedding party. Two young girls, nervously glancing back over their shoulders to make sure they were not outstripping those who followed, scattered rose petals along the aisle. The Prince smiled at them as they drew close, and the one nearest him giggled as she moved past.

  Next came the bridesmaids. All tall, slender beauties, they wore matching gowns cut from a deep green silk. In their hands, they carried small bouquets of mycosia blossoms that matched the color of their gowns.

  Justin licked his lips. He knew that the mycosia flowered only once a year on Andalusia. The Prince must have set up a command circuit of JumpShips to get the flowers here in time for the ceremony. The image of one DropShip passing from JumpShip to JumpShip along a string of jump points to reduce a long interstellar journey to mere hours sent a shiver down Justin’s spine. Hanse honors his bride with such ex
travagant expense.

  Behind the half-dozen bridesmaids came Misha Auburn. Wearing a gown similar to, but more beautifully embellished than those worn by the bridesmaids, she smiled radiantly as Morgan Hasek-Davion offered her his arm. He led her to the foot of the altar, then both of them genuflected and moved in opposite directions. Instead of joining the bridesmaids, who were seated beside the Archon, Misha proceeded on to the altar and stood beside the cardinal from Tharkad. Morgan took up his place opposite her on the groom’s side of the altar.

  Justin felt Candace clutch his arm as Melissa drifted into view. “Justin, she is so beautiful!”

  Justin nodded. Despite Melissa’s veil, he could see the love shining in her gray eyes. Her expression was grave, but it was clearly that of a woman who very much wanted to marry the man waiting for her.

  Morgan Kell stopped Melissa a pace shy of Hanse Davion. He enfolded her in a fierce hug, which she returned equally, then he turned to the Prince. Offering his hand, the mercenary colonel murmured something to Hanse Davion. The Prince shook Morgan’s hand warmly, nodding in silent reply to whatever the other man had said.

  Morgan placed Melissa’s hand on the Prince’s arm, then drifted down the aisle to sit directly behind the Archon. Arm in arm, the bride and groom completed the walk to the altar. As the processional’s final notes trailed off, and their echoes died in the ceiling’s vaults, the bride and groom knelt before the altar.

  Both cardinals stood, but it was the bearded, black-haired cleric from the Federated Suns who came forward first. In a rich, warm voice, he greeted the congregation. “In the names of Prince Hanse Davion and his bride, Archon-Designate Melissa Arthur Steiner, I welcome you here within the sight of the one merciful God. Their wish is that you join them in celebrating this most holy rite and that you add your blessings to this union.”

  Chapter 39

  COMSTAR FIRST CIRCUIT COMPOUND

  HILTON HEAD ISLAND

  NORTH AMERICA, TERRA

  20 AUGUST 3028

  As Cardinal Flynn made the sign of the cross, Justin’s own lifetime of training started his own hand moving in imitation, but he stopped himself abruptly. He glanced over to see if Candace had noticed but she seemed raptly involved in the ceremony’s quiet reverence. You do not betray yourself, Justin, in doing likewise.

  Cardinal Maraschal of Tharkad, his hands folded in prayer and pressed to his chin, smiled as the couple rose from before the altar and parted company to come around it. Hanse took his place between Morgan Hasek-Davion and Cardinal Maraschal, while Melissa stood between the cardinal from New Avalon and Misha Auburn.

  Cardinal Maraschal opened and raised his hands. “Let us pray.” After a moment of silent reflection, his strong voice rang out through the cathedral. “Father, you have made the bond of marriage a holy mystery, a symbol of Christ’s love for his Church. Hear our prayers for Hanse and Melissa. Make their marriage a true joining of man to woman, heart to heart and soul to soul. Bless them and all who love them so that they may serve as witnesses to your divine love for the universe. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Ghost, one Spirit, for ever and ever.”

  “Amen,” Justin murmured. Smiling reassuringly, Candace reached over and patted his right hand. Justin returned her smile, then looked up as Flynn approached the pulpit.

  The cardinal motioned the guests to be seated, then raised the leather-bound red book on the podium enough for the audience to see it. Light reflected from the gold-embossed letters on the spine, but Justin could not read them. “A reading from the Book of Revelation, chapter nineteen.” The cardinal licked his lips, then began in his sonorous voice. “I heard what sounded like the roar of a vast throng in heaven; and they were shouting: ‘Alleluia! Victory and glory and power belong to our God.’”

  Justin stiffened involuntarily. This hardly sounds like text suited to a wedding. I wonder if Hanse chose this passage to convey another message. It’s true that victory, glory, and power will be his if he uses the combined might of the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth to crush the Draconis Combine.

  Justin smiled as the cardinal finished the reading with the words, “Happy are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb.” He was certain that many of the guests here were less than happy. Chuckling to himself, he could even imagine more than one rewriting those lines to say, “Happy are those invited to the funeral of the Fox.”

  Cardinal Flynn returned to his place, then both cardinals invited the bride and groom to come forward. Hanse and Melissa joined hands, with eyes only for one another. Cardinal Maraschal whispered something to the couple, making both of them smile.

  Cardinal Maraschal looked toward the Archon. “Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?”

  Katrina Steiner stood proudly. “I, Archon Katrina Steiner, in the name of her father, myself, and the Lyran Commonwealth, give this woman to be wed.”

  As the Archon seated herself again, Hanse’s deep, strong voice filled the church. “I, Hanse Adriaan Davion take you, Melissa, as my wife. I promise, from this moment forward unto forever, to love, honor, and cherish you with my heart and soul. Forsaking all others, in good times and bad, in sickness and health, and in prosperity or poverty, I will be yours alone for as long as I shall live.”

  Melissa took a deep breath, then answered the Prince’s vows in a clear, resonant voice. “I, Melissa Arthur Steiner, take you, Hanse, as my husband. Openly and freely, without hint of reservation, I vow my fidelity to you and affirm my love for you. In adversity or happiness, in sickness or health, in security or beset by enemies from within or without, I shall be yours alone, now and for all time.”

  In unison, the cardinals pronounced their blessings. “You have declared your consent before the Church. May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with the strength to keep your vows. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen.”

  Morgan Hasek-Davion handed the rings to Cardinal Maraschal. The cleric nodded thanks, then joined with his counterpart from the Federated Suns in blessing the rings. “May the Lord God bless these rings that you give to each other as a sign of your love and fidelity.”

  Hanse cupped Melissa’s left hand in his left hand. Taking the ring from Cardinal Maraschal, he held it up so that all could see the light glinting from the golden band. “Take thee this ring, Melissa, as a visible sign of my promises to you.” Smiling, the Prince of the Federated Suns slipped the ring onto Melissa’s finger.

  Melissa accepted the other ring from Cardinal Flynn and held it up for all to see. “Take thee this ring, Hanse, and know my vows to thee will remain as pure and unchanging as the gold herein.” Melissa slid the thick gold band easily onto Hanse’s finger.

  Cardinal Flynn smiled broadly. “Through the power granted me by God, I confirm and bless what you have promised each other. I pronounce you man and wife.” He hesitated a moment, then added in a lower voice, “You may kiss the bride.”

  Smiling, Hanse slowly lifted the veil from his wife’s face. They stared lovingly at each other for a moment, then the Prince lowered his face to hers. Delicate and brief, their first kiss as man and wife wordlessly affirmed everything the ceremony had so eloquently described.

  With his face lit with unabashed joy, Morgan Hasek-Davion turned to the crowd. He pointed his right hand at the royal couple as the assembly came to its feet and applauded. In a voice booming with pleasure, Morgan announced, “It is my great honor and distinct pleasure to introduce to you Prince Hanse Davion of the Federated Suns and his wife, Princess Melissa Arthur Steiner-Davion!”

  Chapter 40

  COMSTAR FIRST CIRCUIT COMPOUND

  HILTON HEAD ISLAND

  NORTH AMERICA, TERRA

  20 AUGUST 3028

  Justin nodded gratefully as the ComStar acolyte directed him to the nearest of the long tables set up to ring the room in a roughly hexagonal pattern. The head table sat on a dais directly across from the one re
served for House Liao. At an angle to the right of the House Liao table, Justin saw the members of House Marik gathering at their own table. This placed House Marik directly opposite the table reserved for the nobles of House Steiner. House Kurita’s dignitaries were seated at House Liao’s left, where, across the sea of tables meant for less important guests, they faced the House Davion nobility.

  Justin drew Candace’s chair away from the table for her, then seated himself as he answered the question she’d just posed. “Walking beneath the crossed swords is an old tradition among those who have graduated from a military academy. All the groomsmen had graduated from Albion, as had the Prince.” Justin grinned mischievously. “I imagine ComStar was nervous about those ceremonial swords. They collected them rather quickly after the bride and groom had passed under.”

  Tsen looked past Candace at Justin. “What are you talking about?”

  Candace answered before Justin could. “You recall, as the newlyweds left the church, how the groomsmen performed that little ceremony with the swords. Each of the three pairs lowered the swords to bar passage until the groom kissed his bride. That pair would then raise the swords, and the couple would pass on.” Candace glanced back at Justin. “What I really wanted to know is why Ardan Sortek, being the last man on the bride’s side, slapped her posterior—albeit lightly—with his sword as she went past?”

  Justin smiled openly. “That’s to ensure many children—or so the superstition goes.”

  Candace raised an eyebrow. “And do the graduates of the Sakhara Academy subscribe to the same superstition, Citizen Xiang?”

  Justin shook his head. “Those of us at Sakhara were smart enough to figure out where children came from, and we had other ideas about how to be sure there’d be plenty of them.”