Cyrilla pointed to the screen overhead. Phelan looked up and saw the vote still displayed for all to see: 460 Aye. 353 Nay. 187 abstention. "I don't understand. I was accepted."
"True, Phelan, and that is no small accomplishment." Cyrilla laid a reassuring hand oh his arm. "The problem is that your margin of victory was decidedly less than what I had hoped. The questions asked of you before Garth stepped in were not intended to prevent your acceptance. As Garth pointed out, those questions affirmed you as a worthy Warrior. Calling for this vote was a smoke screen."
"I'm still missing something."
Natasha's blue eyes flashed angrily. "It's simple, Phelan. Very simple. Those who oppose Ulric are going to mount an attack on him and attempt to depose him. The abstentions are enough of a swing vote to put him out of office, and the number shows that questioning Ulric's judgement the way they did was effective."
"They?"
'The Crusaders, the ones who wanted this damned invasion. If Ulric's foes do oust him, if they succeed in convincing a majority of the Council to support their candidate to replace him, we'll be looking at a major shift in the political balance within the Clans."
The dread in her voice sent a shiver down Phelan's spine and got his stomach going again. "And if that happens?"
Natasha focused her eyes somewhere far away. "Well, Phelan," she said, "you will be home for Christmas, but don't count on recognizing Arc-Royal or any world between here and there."
6
Wolf's Dragoons General Headquarters, Outreach
Sarna March, Federated Suns
5 February 3051
As Victor Davion watched Hohiro Kurita across the night-darkened terrace, it irritated him less that Hohiro had beaten him in all the physical exercises that day than that his rival seemed not the least stiff from the day's exertions. Victor leaned back against the cold stone balustrade and let it massage away some of the tightness in his lower back. Obstacle courses, basic weapons instructions, and a cross-country march! If that's training to beat the Clans, the Dragoons have, indeed, sold us out.
Kai Allard, dressed like Victor and Galen in the olive fatigues of the Tenth Lyran Guards, settled himself against the railing. "Well, Highness, I thought you and Hohiro hit it off well this morning."
Victor turned and gave Kai a withering stare, then cracked a slight smile at the pun. "Blood will out, I guess. It rather surprised me, after that talk about unity, that MacKenzie split us into two teams, pitting the Federated Commonwealth and St. Ives Compact against the Draconis Combine et al."
Kai rubbed his chin ruefully. "I apologize for not having made a better showing of things today."
"Don't worry about it." Victor punched Kai lightly on the shoulder. "None of us were in top form. As I saw it, as long as you beat Sun-Tzu at anything, we were ahead of the game. Zandra smoked Ragnar across the board and Galen kept trading off with Shin. Damned Hohiro beat the hell out of me. That's why we came in second-best."
Both young men fell silent as others of their class and generation moved out into the garden. Back in the reception hall, the military attaches and actual wielders of power mixed and chatted in a civilized parody of warfare. Galen Cox and Shin Yodama, both of whom had been military men before duty brought royalty into their care, stood at the center of knots of young officers clamoring to know what it was like to do battle with the Clans.
Part of Victor longed to be in that room and to move through those crowds with the same ease his aide enjoyed. He knew he could learn much from what others might have to say, but his title would get in the way. Whether they agreed with him or not, officers would accept his judgement and defer to him just because he was heir to the throne of the Federated Commonwealth. Looking across the terrace at Hohiro, he assumed the Dragon's heir must have felt much the same way.
Victor motioned back toward the ballroom. "Kai, you ought to be in there. I bet every officer in the place wants to know what it's like to be face off with a company of OmniMechs." Though he spoke lightly, Victor realized almost instantly that he'd hit a nerve with Kai. He still feels responsible for that squad of men who got killed after he ordered them back into combat on Twycross.
Kai shook his head. "No, I don't think so." He let a slight smile onto his lips and tightened the corners of his gray, almond-shaped eyes. "And it's not for the reason you think, either. Romano is cruising that crowd like a hungry shark, and I don't want to be anywhere near her." His smile broadened suddenly. "Out here, we're safe because she's got no audience."
Victor smiled at Kai's joke, but said nothing as four more people strolled out onto the terrace. Cassandra Allard-Liao and Ragnar laughed about something together, and the two women following them smiled politely. One of the two Victor recognized immediately. Except for her waist-length black hair, she was a physical copy of Cassandra. Victor knew Kuan Yin to be the quieter of the twins and saw in her natural grace the inner strength Kai so often mentioned when speaking of her.
Yet as strong and pretty as she was, Kuan Yin paled in Victor's eyes compared to the other Oriental woman walking silently alongside. It was the same one he had noticed previously among the Kurita delegation, though tonight she was not dressed in Japanese ceremonial robes. She gave Hohiro a smile, but continued her conversation with Kuan Yin.
"Kai, who is that speaking with your sister?"
"I don't know." Frowning slightly, he studied the young woman. "I think she's with the Kurita group. Perhaps she's Hohiro's wife. They tend to arrange marriages early in the Combine."
Victor scowled. Just my luck. Before he could comment, two more people stepped onto the terrace, deflecting his thoughts. "Trouble at nine o'clock."
Sun-Tzu and his sister Kali strode out onto the terrace as though they owned it, yet Victor saw Sun-Tzu hold back just enough to give the impression that it was his sister who made the big play for attention. Of Kali Liao, the only good thing Victor could think was that her diminutiveness made him no longer the shortest of the royals. In the backlight from the windows arching onto the terrace, her auburn hair took on a halo of gold, but the expression on her face and the look in her green eyes reminded Victor of her mother's wild unpredictability.
The back of Kali's sleeveless black jumpsuit plunged well below the length of her long hair. Its neckline plunged, too, making a long, tapered vee to the wide belt around her waist, accentuating her small breasts. Though no blemish was visible in the half-light, Victor recalled a file that mentioned a faint scar between her breasts. She claimed it was a result of her initiation into a Thugee cult, during which she had cut her own heart, then put it back again—proving she was loved by her namesake, the Hindu death goddess.
Kali looked around the garden, then stopped when she spotted Cassandra and Kuan Yin.
"I think I'll go over and inquire into the identity of your mystery woman," said Kai. "If you will excuse me."
"Excellent idea."
As Kai headed out toward the quartet that included his sisters, Isis Marik suddenly emerged from the ballroom and slipped her right arm through the crook of Kai's left elbow. Clad in yet another paramilitary blue outfit—this time without the cap—she and Kai looked like a proper military couple until she spoke. Her voice carrying across the terrace and possibly even back into the ballroom, Isis Marik exclaimed, "Finally! I have been looking all over for the heir to the Capellan Confederation."
Sun-Tzu stiffened sharply. "I am afraid, Gospodjica Marik, that you are mistaken." He moved to block their line of march and folded his arms across the breast of his golden tunic. "If you seek the heir to the Universal Throne, I am he."
With a look of bewilderment, Isis let her arm slip free of Kai's and stepped between the two cousins. She cocked her head quizzically at Kai. "Is not the eldest child of Maximilian Liao's eldest daughter the rightful heir to the throne?"
Sun-Tzu's eyes became like jade slivers as contempt contorted his features. "The only throne to which Kai Allard has a claim is that of the Federated Commonwealth. But that is only as a lapdog t
o a Davion, as the Allards have ever been."
Sun-Tzu's remark stung Victor, but he held his ground as Kai forced himself to laugh. "Service to the House of Davion is an honor. Service to the Capellan throne is dancing on the edge of a sword blade."
"Ah, but cousin, to paraphrase Milton, 'tis better to reign in Hell than to serve the court of the butcher of the Successor States. How does it feel, Kai, to know you have ordered men to die to preserve the realm of the greatest aggressor the Inner Sphere has ever known? Hanse Davion murdered 100 million people and left another half-billion casualties in the Fourth Succession War alone! And if that were not enough for him, ten years later he went to war again."
Sun-Tzu saw that his barb about Kai ordering the deaths of his men had hit home. He thrust a finger at the Diamond Sunburst ribbon on Kai's chest. "You go to war and drive men to their deaths, but you reap medals and rewards! Were you the heir, to the Universal Throne, what could my people look forward to except the butchery of their young men and women as you concocted some new military crusade to sate your thirst for blood? The Capellan Confederation has not been the aggressor. We were not in 3028, when the Federated Suns launched their attack against us, and we were not in 3030, when Andurien violated our borders."
Sun-Tzu's voice lashed Kai with its ridicule. "And the most perverse of all is that you earned that medal by treachery. You lured honorable Clan warriors into a deathtrap with the promise of single combat. No matter how expedient it might have been, the deed reveals the moral rot in your soul."
Victor saw the mask descend over Kai's face and knew his friend would not reply. That bastard's aim is true. Give Kai half a chance and he'll always doubt himself. Victor started forward to rescue his friend, but the situation changed before he could intervene.
Kali had started to drift over like a vulture to pick further at Kai, but Kuan Yin reached out and lightly touched Kali on the arm. Victor would have sworn that Kuan Yin's fingertips merely brushed Kali's flesh, but Romano's daughter jumped back as though she'd been lashed with a neural whip. Kali's eyes flashed and her hands knotted into fists, but Kuan Yin's unwavering hazel-eyed stare cowed her cousin and held her at bay.
At that moment, the lovely young Kurita woman stepped forward. "Forgive me for interrupting, gentlemen." The softness of her voice was soothing. "Perhaps it is not my place, but the intensity of this discussion has become so painful that I would ask, please, that you postpone it until another time."
"Sumimasen. Shitsurei shimash'ta." Kai gave her a respectful bow. "I have been most rude. Please forgive me." He straightened up, then turned and walked into the ballroom, leaving the field of battle to Sun-Tzu. The heir to the Capellan Confederation gave the young woman a polite nod, then let Isis Marik steer him out into the shadows of the garden surrounding the terrace.
Victor suddenly found himself face to face with the Kurita woman. The blue of her eyes was a startling contrast to the black hair that shimmered down her back. The delicate beauty of her features put Victor in mind of ancient Japanese woodcuts showing women as perfect as they were serene.
Though she stood almost twelve centimeters taller, the smile on her face did not mock his size.
"Thank you for stepping in to stop that fight." Victor shot a glance back to where he had been standing. "I was going to do something myself, but you beat me to it. And," he added with a sheepish grin, "you certainly did it more gracefully than I could have managed."
"I saw that you intended to help your friend." She hesitated, as though seeking for more precision in her English. "My fear was that you would accept the role as aggressor in the fight. My solution was to make both of them the aggressor. That way, they had to stop or else be branded my torturer. Your friend Kai has courage and strength in him, as well as manners. Sun-Tzu has cunning and strength. I do not think the resumption of this conflict will be pretty."
"Your assessment of Kai is quite accurate. I fear that your reading of his cousin is equally so. If they fight again, I will try to remember your solution to the situation." Victor smiled and gave her a half-bow. "By the way, I am ..."
She laughed lightly. "I know quite well who you are, Victor Ian Steiner-Davion, Crown Prince of the Federated Commonwealth, Duke of the Sarna March, Kommandant of the Tenth Lyran Guards."
Victor decided immediately he liked the sound of her laughter. "I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage."
"I am simply Omi."
Omi. The name is familiar. I should know it from somewhere. Victor took her hand and kissed it lightly. "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Omi. I would try that in Japanese, but I am afraid languages were never my forte."
"Do itashimash'ta. The Nagelring's reputation for languages is not such that you are dishonored by not having mastered a difficult tongue."
Victor allowed himself a frown. "You seem to know a great deal about me, yet I know nothing about you. If you wish, we could remedy that in a pleasant walk through the garden."
Victor saw her about to accept the arm he proffered, but the sharp sound of clicking heels on the terrace tiles stopped her. They both glanced back to find Hohiro standing there, his expression stern.
"Please excuse me, Prince Victor," Omi said quietly, "but I must go. Perhaps we will have another opportunity for that walk."
She turned away and like a curtain descending on a play, Hohiro cut off Victor's view of her. Victor looked up at the Kuritan, but ignored the cold expression on his face. "Who is she, Hohiro? Why did she have to leave?"
The muscles of Hohiro's jaw bunched tightly as he visibly struggled for inner mastery. "She is my sister, Victor Davion, and you will never speak with her again."
7
Clan Council Chamber, Hall of the Wolves
Strana Mechty, Beyond the Periphery
28 February 3051
"I, Natasha Kerensky, swear on my honor as a member of the Wolf clan to tell the entire Truth and not to rest until Justice is done in this matter."
Seated behind Cyrilla, Phelan smiled at Natasha's defiant tone. It was news to none that she resented being called up for "interrogation by her peers." The way she said it left no doubt how few of the Council she considered her equal. The day's session promised to be full of fireworks.
The Loremaster looked down at Natasha as she settled uncomfortably into the witness chair. "Your cooperation in this investigation is most appreciated, Colonel Kerensky. The matter of whether or not Wolf Dragoons are guilty of treason against the Clans is a matter for the Grand Council. We are here to decide if there is sufficient evidence to warrant recommending the Grand Council's jurisdiction."
Natasha looked around the Council with a hard stare not muted by its expansion onto the screens above the central dais. "I believe, Loremaster, that I understand quite well what is going on here." In her black jumpsuit unzipped enough to reveal a red t-shirt with a black widow design, Natasha looked, to Phelan, much more the warrior than the other Council members.
Carol Leroux started to position herself as Interrogator, but Natasha waved away the other flame-haired woman. "Go away, child. I don't want these jackals hiding behind you. If they have questions, let them ask me directly. It's time we deal with the puppeteers, not the puppets."
Leroux appealed mutely to the Loremaster, but before he could respond, one Council member stood up near the front now. "Loremaster, I request you instruct Colonel Kerensky that in this place we conduct our business in a civilized manner. She should comport herself with more dignity."
The Loremaster stared the Council member back into his seat, then glanced at Natasha. "Colonel Kerensky, Carol Leroux has been appointed your Advocate in this matter. Burke Carson will be your Inquisitor."
A slender man moved down to the floor of the Council Chamber and adjusted the listening device in his right ear. Even though his head had been shaved to promote good contact with a neurohelmet, the man's build and ease of movement would have told Phelan he was a MechWarrior. And the sneer on his face revealed his contempt for N
atasha.
She laughed harshly. "Come then, little boy, and do your worst. Learn why I am called the Black Widow."
Phelan saw a number of Council members nod and chuckle, but many more appeared shocked and offended at her remark. He leaned forward to Cyrilla. "I take it this is a resumption of the political infighting that prompted the review of my adoption?"
"Yes, in some ways it is." She half-closed her eyes. "This is more slashing at the political philosophy that Ulric, Natasha, and I embrace. It is a battle of Crusaders versus Wardens."
Phelan shook his head. "Crusaders? Wardens?"
"It is a complex division in our people, but let me try to simplify it for you. The Wardens believe that the Clans should stay out of the affairs of the Inner Sphere, acting only if an outside force threatens the Successor States. The Crusaders believe that the old Star League was a paradise that they are destined to reestablish. Even if it means destroying the Successor States in the process."
Cyrilla's eyes narrowed. "The problem is that the means they wish to employ cut away at the very heart of what it means to be a Clan Warrior."
The young man shook his head. "I don't understand."
The Ward matriarch's face hardened. "The Crusaders, in pressing a charge of treason against Wolf's Dragoons, seek to block the Dragoons' DNA from ever being used in a breeding program!"
The look that Burke Carson was giving Natasha at that moment reminded Phelan of the look the Honor Board headman had given him the day they kicked him out of the Nagelring. "Perhaps, Natasha, you could inform us of the duties to which the Khan assigned the Wolf Dragoons when he first sent you on the mission to the Inner Sphere."
"Gladly. One of the two Wolf Khans at that time was Nadia Winson. She directed us to seek employment as mercenaries with one of the Great Houses, and she acted at the behest of the Grand Council. Our entry vector into the Successor States, chosen to hide the location of the Clan worlds, brought us first into contact with House Davion on 11 April 3005. We negotiated a contract with Prince Ian Davion and fought against the Capellan Confederation. Over the next five years, we were able to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of the Capellan troops, as well as learn how well the Federated Suns forces worked.
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