"One more chance to save him, Castilla."
Castilla did not respond.
"All right then."
Diana did not intend to kill Cholas—not yet. She pushed his body to a sitting position, aimed a shot past his head, and then quickly shoved his body down to sound as if it had struck the ground.
Castilla's scream was like no sound Diana had ever heard. It had pain in it, along with a ferocious anger. And it did not stop. It came at Diana from behind like a truck bearing down on her. With no time to even figure how Castilla had gotten behind her, Diana whirled around, but not fast enough. Castilla leaped out of the darkness onto her.
She seized Diana's neck in her hands and began to squeeze, apparently oblivious to the pistol in Diana's hand. Struggling to breath, Diana tried to angle the pistol for a shot, when suddenly she felt her wrist being grabbed and slammed onto the ground, the pistol flying from her grip. She could not see, but knew that Cholas must have come awake, seen the two warriors struggling, and instinctively grabbed Diana's arm.
"You—you murderer!" Castilla screamed. Her pressure on Diana's neck increased and Diana's vision began to cloud. But her hearing was still clear. She heard Cholas call out, "Castilla! I am all right."
"Cholas?"
For a moment Castilla let up on her pressure. It was a moment that Diana knew how to take advantage of. Twisting her body, she was able to bring her free arm around and, pushing at Castilla's face, fling her back. Castilla's hands came away from Diana's neck.
Diana wriggled away, feeling with her hands all around her for her pistol, for any weapon to use against this pair. At the same time she heard the repugnant conversation between the two spies.
"I thought she had killed you."
"One of her lies. I will never leave you."
"Nor I either."
Diana forgot about her search for the weapon. With a scream as frightening as Castilla's had been, she leaped to her feet and rushed the two lovers. At that moment she had never hated anyone more than she hated them. What right had they to display such feelings, even if they felt them? What right had they to feel love?
With her considerable warrior strength, she knocked both of them to the ground. She rolled over onto Castilla and began hitting her in the face. Her blows were fierce as she focused on the evil, twisted mouth. When Cholas tried to break them up, Diana merely shoved him off.
Castilla was unconscious before Diana stopped raining blows. Still enraged, she whirled to locate Cholas. He had found her pistol and was raising it to fire at her. Diana did not care about the weapon. She did not fear it. She was Jade Falcon.
Diving for his legs, she tackled him and brought him down. A momentary flash of reason told her to go for the pistol, which she did. Over and over she slammed the arm holding the pistol against the ground with both her arms. Blood flowed out of the cuts on Cholas' hands, but he held on. Diana dug two of her fingers into a cut. Cholas screamed and released the pistol. Diana picked it up.
Suddenly the rage went out of her. She had the advantage anyway. She need not kill Cholas. She need not kill either of them.
She stood up slowly and gestured with the pistol for Cholas to get up, too.
"Help Castilla," Diana ordered. "You will carry her back to our camp."
"So you can accuse us, have us executed? Why should I?"
"I think a coward like you values his own life so much you will seize any chance to prolong it."
"I am no coward. But I see I have little choice. We will let Star Colonel Ravill Pryde resolve matters."
He knelt down and braced Castilla against his knee before standing up with her in his arms. They looked to Diana like something out of one of the books Horse liked so much. The hero carrying his loved one in his arms for some kind of purpose that they termed romantic. Cholas took a step toward Diana, his body apparently relaxed. Then he stiffened and flung the body of Castilla forward. Caught by surprise, Diana fell backward, the dead weight of Castilla on top of her.
When she had extricated herself, she saw Cholas running toward the rim. He was soon enveloped in darkness. She chased after him, but could not find him right away. Then there was a flash of fire from down in the Gash and she saw Cholas outlined against it. He had climbed onto one of the piles and was trying to loosen something. Something he could use as a weapon perhaps. Cool and steady, Diana, took aim and fired. Cholas shrieked, stood, and fell backward, off the pile and over the rim of the Gash. She heard his scream echo through the Gash as he fell.
Diana almost regretted the accuracy of her shot. Why had he not clung to the pile or landed on this side of the rim? She had wanted to take him back, to relish his and Castilla's humiliation at the hands of the Jade Falcons. But that pleasure was to be denied.
There was more fire down below, and she suddenly recalled the battle taking place there. Standing at the rim, she looked down and muttered angrily as she saw the deep trouble Joanna was in.
* * *
"Call Star Colonel Pryde and announce that you have yielded. I would have you live, Star Commander Joanna."
Although she heard Natasha's voice and had heard the Dire Wolf approach, Joanna was not sure of her position. Her sensors indicated a position just beyond the Summoner's feet.
"Somebody fell, Natasha. From the plateau up there. Who was it?"
"I could not tell. It wears a Jade Falcon uniform. What was a Jade Falcon doing up there in the first place? Some kind of Jade Falcon treachery?"
Could the body be Diana's?
"Is it a female warrior?"
"The body isn't recognizable in any way. Why do you even care?"
Natasha is right. Why do I care? If it is Diana, then it is Diana. Yet I feel something strange. A concern, perhaps. It is as I felt when Aidan Pryde was killed. It is—but I may be dead myself soon, so no matter.
"I give you the chance again, Joanna. Your weapons are now useless to you. You cannot even move your arms and legs."
One leg. The left leg. I know I can raise it. Natasha Kerensky must move to where I can see her.
"If I walk away, your humiliation is complete, Joanna. Twycross doesn't seem a lucky place for you."
No! Do not walk away. Come closer, where I can see you. Only one way I can get a chance at her and that is to make her try to kill me.
"That is the point, Natasha. Finish me off. I do not wish to endure the shame here a second time."
There was a long pause. "Yes," Natasha said slowly. "It is true. You deserve a good death."
The Dire Wolf stepped forward and now Joanna could see it. She did not waste time, for it would only take a moment for Natasha to fire her Gauss rifle. Already, the Dire Wolf's left arm was lowering as Natasha bent her torso slightly forward, clearly intending a shot into Joanna's cockpit.
This is it, then. The leg has to be clear. Yes, I can move it. Does she even notice it raising up?
"You are a worthy opponent, Jo—"
The sentence remained unfinished. Joanna had raised her left leg to a point left of Natasha's cockpit. Then she moved it in a rapid shift to the right, while lightly touching the control that ignited the jump jet attached to the leg. The flame shot out in a violent orange burst and enveloped the Dire Wolf's cockpit like a hungry, fiery mouth.
Joanna kept the jet firing long after the cockpit of the Dire Wolf had melted into slag. The pilot inside was incinerated. Natasha Kerensky, legendary warrior and a Khan of the Wolves, victor of more battles than there were stars in the night sky, was dead.
Joanna released her finger from the control, and relaxed her body.
"And you were also a worthy opponent," she said wearily and passed out. Above her, although she saw none of it, the Dire Wolf swayed for a short time and then fell. It nearly landed on Joanna's cockpit, but something—perhaps a burst of Diabolis rushing through the Gash, or perhaps just the imbalance from its damaged leg—made the 'Mech veer sideways and land right next to the Summoner, face down.
Up above Diana had watched the
contest in alternating anger and cheer. When it looked like the Dire Wolf would destroy Joanna, Diana wanted desperately to somehow jump to the Gash floor to help Joanna. Then, when she saw Joanna manipulate the 'Mech leg and destroy Natasha Kerensky, for a moment she was not able to comprehend what had happened. When the Dire Wolf settled next to the Summoner, she knew the battle was over.
Joanna's all right. She has to be. Joanna cannot die, ever.
When Diana returned to where Castilla had lain, she was gone. Castilla was not seen again on Twycross, and the Jade Falcons assumed she had managed to get off the plateau and join the rest of the Wolves in their escape from Twycross.
Epilogue
Jade Falcon Garrison
Pattersen, Sudeten
Jade Falcon Occupation Zone
31 December 3057
The Falcon Guards had returned to Sudeten.
"One question has been on my mind for a long time, Star Colonel. You said something about a psychological ambush of Natasha Kerensky. What did you mean?"
Joanna was determined to study Ravill Pryde closely as he gave his response. If he lied, she wanted to search his face and watch his body movements for any clue to it.
"Is that not what we did, Joanna? I could have fought her myself, and I was willing to accept the risk, and even shame, of facing Natasha Kerensky. Still, as you have said so often, I was not battle-tested, not a veteran warrior, and it seemed to me as commander that the match required someone who could be as wily, and as ruthless, as Natasha Kerensky. So I declined the challenge and, given the strong opinions I expressed about combat with Natasha Kerensky prior to the battle, I knew that none of my officers wished to dishonor themselves by taking up her challenge. They were lies, of course. Already the psychological ambush was in process."
"Let me ask this: You knew that their refusal would rattle the old warrior?"
"Very perceptive, Joanna. You continue to surprise me."
The man's smile was ugly. For that matter, Joanna decided, Ravill Pryde was ugly, and deceitful, and too small. But he was crafty, she had to give him that, and he was a brave leader, as his command of strategy and fighting prowess had shown during the entire Battle of Twycross. In the last stages of the battle, while the Wolves were escaping in DropShips, he had charged among them without waiting for his troops to catch up. But what new kind of leader contemplated psychological ambushes?
"The rest of the psychological ambush should be clear, Joanna. Natasha Kerensky had issued a worthy challenge and, from her point of view, we had responded in an unworthy fashion. You, Joanna, were the final facet of my psychological ambush—the key to it, really."
"Because I am old, too. Not as old as—"
"Your age was the key factor. And therefore the psychology. But I knew you would win. And therefore the ambush. The fight merely had to be set up correctly, and I did that, quiaff?"
It pained her to admit, "Aff" especially since Ravill Pryde obviously thought so highly of himself for his strategy. Ravill Pryde, for all the glory he had brought onto her name, was as repellent to Joanna as ever.
* * *
Now she and Ravill Pryde stood near Sudeten Lake. It was a rare day on Sudeten. An impossible day. The breeze was balmy, the day extremely pleasant.
"What about my assignment to Ironhold?" Joanna asked.
"Revoked. But do not credit me. Martha Pryde gave the order. I still believe you are too old and would be more useful elsewhere. Kael Pershaw asked for your return to the Watch. Will you go?"
"No. I do not wish to be a spy. I have had enough of them."
"Martha Pryde advises you to accept your role. The Clan needs you as an inspiration as we heal our wounds and wait the next call to action."
"You are getting florid again, Ravill Pryde. If ordered by Martha Pryde, I will go anywhere. I respect her. But, if she gives me the choice, I do not choose to be an inspiration. I am Joanna, Star Commander Joanna, if you wish, and I am a Jade Falcon warrior, and that is all I wish to be."
"So be it. I do respect you, Joanna. I do not like you, but I can use you in the Falcon Guards."
"It is my place."
He nodded and abruptly started to walk away. "Star Colonel!" she called after him.
He turned. "Yes, Star Commander?"
"You beat me unfairly in our last fight. I wish to fight you again, to even the score."
"In BattleMechs?"
"In any kind of fight. Barehanded in a Circle of Equals, if you wish."
"Perhaps it will happen. Sometime. But you must provoke me, Joanna.”
“Oh, I will do that.”
“You might.”
“Might?"
He shrugged and resumed his walk.
"How about one of your sporting contests?" she called after him. "How about a swim across the lake here?"
His shoulders went up and down slightly as if he had laughed, but Ravill Pryde walked on.
"I can swim circles around you," he shouted back, however.
"Show me."
He stopped walking and looked back over his shoulder. "No, Star Commander. I have given up contests, games. They are useful for new warriors to display skills. But for us, we who have seen real combat, well, we have already displayed our skills, quiaff?"
He looked so strange, standing there, short and thin to the point of fragility. Like a child in adult clothing. But he also stood like a Jade Falcon warrior, confident and defiant.
"Aff, Ravill Pryde."
He threw her a smile and then continued on.
Joanna walked to the shore of the lake. She was angry now, angry at Ravill Pryde for treating her challenges so lightly. He must understand that his victory over her was the one remaining humiliation she must avenge. And it seemed she had proven herself adept at avenging humiliations. In spite of the calm of the day, the lake water was, as usual, turbulent and cold. Small floes of ice still bobbed on its surface.
"Freebirth!" she muttered and kicked off her boots and removed her jacket. Plunging into the water, she was astonished by its intense frigidity. It made her body cold immediately, in spite of the insulation of her jumpsuit. She had an impulse to turn back and give up the swim, but—once she started a task—she had to finish it. Perhaps that was the secret to her survival.
She heard a splash behind her. Had that scum, Ravill Pryde decided to compete with her after all?
The presence in the water of a competitor urged her on. She did not force her strokes, but executed them in the steady rhythm she had been taught nearly three decades ago as a sibko cadet. It was painful to maintain a fierce kick in the icy waters, especially when an ice floe threw the kick off, but she swam on. It was also hard to concentrate when your head felt like it was turning to ice itself.
The water increasingly resisted her hands as she tried to slice them in smoothly, then pull them back toward her hips in an even stroke. Joanna did not know how she did it, but her stroke got stronger, her legs kicked harder.
But she could not shake off the competition from the other swimmer, who kept up with her, but just behind. She dared not turn to sneer at Ravill Pryde, nor did she want to waste vital energy with an insult or a boast about beating him.
Ahead was a large piece of ice. Reacting quickly, she slipped underwater and swam under the floe. She did not have time to watch the scene below her for long, but she had a glimpse of an impossible beauty of flowers and aquatic life. She emerged on the other side of the ice floe and took in a deep breath. The warm air created strange sensations in her cold lungs.
Now she could see the other side of the lake, the cliff rising from the water. Her strokes became fiercer, splashing water high. She heard similar splashing just behind her.
For the last few meters, Joanna kicked as hard as she could, moved her arms with all the strength she could muster. She could feel herself accelerate—and sense her pursuer speed up accordingly.
There were only six meters left as she felt a challenge from her competitor. From somewhere within her Joa
nna found the extra energy, the additional power to surge ahead and reach the cliff wall first.
Feeling extraordinary, she pulled herself onto the wide, deep ledge where most swimmers who crossed the lake rested before the return swim, unless they chose to climb the sheer face of the cliff. Settling herself onto the ledge, trying to feel the warm air, she looked down and saw her competitor lifting himself out of the water. "But it is only you, Horse."
In one smooth movement, graceful for a man of his bulk, Horse pulled himself to a sitting position on the ledge.
"Only me? Are you disappointed? Who did you think it was?"
"Ravill Pryde."
Horse laughed. "In that case, he would have been sitting here, awaiting your arrival." Joanna could not even get angry at Horse's baiting. "I can beat him, Horse. I can beat him.”
“You seem different, Joanna."
"Will everybody stop telling me I am different? I am the same. Well, with a little glory attached perhaps."
Joanna could not have explained it to anyone, but with Horse she felt comfortable. He was freeborn, yes. Stubborn, sarcastic scum, yes. But comfortable. She was not even sure she hated him anymore. Him and Diana. Stupid freebirths.
"The really strange thing, Joanna, is that you look happy. Different or not, that's a change, and a frightful one, to boot."
She smiled. He was right. Swimming across the lake had made her feel happy. It would not last. She liked being angry too much. But, for the moment, it was all right to feel happy. They sat silently on the ledge for a long while. Then Joanna spoke:
"I have never earned a bloodname, Horse, but look what has happened. I have proven myself. I even have a fragment of history, a line in The Remembrance— '... for on Twycross on the day that the Wolves lost a Khan, it was the aged Joanna that flew and slew.' Not bad. Do you think my ashes will be mixed with the nutrients for a sibko, Horse?"
"Maybe. But first you have to die. I am sure there are a few Wolf whelps who would like to do you that honor."
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