by Ann Wilson
seen it tried."
"Close; I've demonstrated it. But I made sure the Sandeman was using astun setting on his needler."
Ryan chuckled. "I'm not sure I'd care to let myself be used as atarget that way. You must have trusted that warrior implicitly."
"No more or less than I trust any Sandeman," Medart said. "I've onlyknown one who was capable of deliberate deception, and that was becausehis Intelligence field work for the Empire required it. Naturally, hewas the best field agent we've had, though his successor as top agentcame close."
"Naturally," Kelly said. Whatever she was going to say next, though,was interrupted by the arrival of their breakfast; all threeconcentrated on eating.
When they were done, they moved to a small lounge, and Ryan addressedMedart with an expression the Ranger couldn't quite identify. "I didnot reveal my full rank yesterday, Highness; a foretelling spell saidit would be in the clan's interest to use only my lesser one. BesidesWarleader, I am the chief of Clan Vader."
Medart nodded, grinning. "I know. I can read clan arms, and youeither forgot or didn't bother to change yours. But if you wanted toclaim a lesser rank, I couldn't see any harm in playing along."
"My arms?" Ryan looked chagrined. "I never even thought of them--Idid a lot at first, when I added the chief, but I've gotten so used tothem since that I no longer really notice the difference."
"And you're not used to deception, so it's easy to understand how you'dmiss that." Medart sobered. "But since you are clan-chief, I need toknow whether the life-debt your clan owes me at home is valid here."
It couldn't be, was Ryan's automatic reaction. The debt had beenincurred in a distant alternate, involving an enemy and a warrior whohad, in this one, lived a long and adventurous life.
On the other hand, a life-debt was sacrosanct, and the one owed it wasentitled to repayment whenever and wherever that repayment was asked.The crucial question, then, was whether a change in universes by theone owed it voided that obligation.
Ryan studied the Prince's carefully-impassive expression. Thepersonalities involved should have no bearing on his judgement as theVader in a matter of honor, but the human's courage and integrity hadearned his respect; it would be difficult to ignore those, though hewould have to try.
Restrict himself to the basic facts, then. James had done a warrior ofClan Vader the ultimate service, sparing him the horrors of death inneed. That meant the clan owed him a comparable service. James was theperson owed, no question about that. Was this universe's Clan Vaderclose enough to his universe's to be considered obligated, then?
The warrior Leigh had lived at the proper time, and Wylie had beenclan-chief then. Those were indicators that it was, but he'd likemore. "May I see your saber?" he asked, using High War Speech.
"Yes," Medart said in the same language, handing it over. "I've addedthe improved power pack, but otherwise it's the same one I was given."
So he did know the warrior caste's language, another point ofsimilarity in his favor. Ryan examined the saber, checking for thesmall traces of workmanship that distinguished Vader-made lightsabersfrom those of other clans. They were there, including Leigh's engravedsignature inside the powerpack cover. That made four points--five, ifhe counted the signature as extra verification of the saber'sprovenance.
Since the Prince had no other physical evidence, and couldn't beexpected to know the clan as well as one of its members--wait, therewas one more detail. "Did you recognize the complete arms, or just thechief?"
"The complete arms. They were a main clue to me, at home, of that partof your culture. The clan name, combined with arms of a scarlet-bladedlight-saber, led me to study the Black Lord's part of the Saga. I'dseen it as a child, of course, but as entertainment, not culturalstudy."
"That's enough, then," Ryan decided. "As clan-chief of Vader, I judgethe similarity between the Clans Vader in the two universes to besufficient that we are liable for the life-debt. What repayment do yourequire, James?"
Medart sighed, letting his relief show. "I want you or someone youchoose to teach me Sandeman magic, clan-chief. The only way I can seefor an outsider like myself to end this war is to challenge whoever theclans designate to single combat, and I'd have no chance in aconventional battle. I was told shortly after I arrived that I havestrong magical powers, though, and that you were the only ones whocould train me to use them at their maximum. I have had no trainingwhatsoever, so I have no bad habits to unlearn."
Ryan frowned. "I can testify to your power, Prince; that was obviousin the strength of your automatic defense against my compulsion spell.But magic training is started young, as soon as the . . . I suppose youcould call them magical-energy channels . . . begin to develop. Withrespect, you are no longer young; such training would be both painfuland dangerous. And fighting a magical duel would be even more so. Iwould prefer not to pay our debt in such a negative way."
"I was under the impression the choice was mine," Medart said quietly.
"It is, Highness, and if you insist I will begin your training myselfas soon as proper preparations can be made. But honor also requiresthat I point out the drawbacks and possibility of injury."
Medart frowned. "The Imperials didn't want to teach me because theirtraining would limit my powers, not because the training itself wasdangerous."
"They also told you, I'm sure, that there are great differences inmethodology. Terran magic operates primarily through symbols, tools,and ceremony; ours operates through personal mana. There's very littledanger in their method, but as they admit, it costs them power. Weaccept the risks in return for that extra edge."
Medart chuckled. "Exactly the reaction I'd expect. Since I need thatedge too, I have to accept the dangers as well. How long will it takefor me to learn enough to fight a duel?"
Ryan shrugged. "We have very little information on training adults,none on training Terrans, so I have no way to give you an estimate.Why?"
"I want to end this war, and end it as soon as possible. It's assimple as that."
"In that case, I'd suggest you issue challenge right away. That willbring an immediate truce, which will last until after the duel. Andthe duel cannot be fought until Clan Vader has finished discharging itslife-debt, now that we've begun."
"How do I do that?"
"Since you're leaving the choice of opponent to us, you inform aWarleader or clan-chief. You've already told me, and I'm willing topass it along as a formal challenge if you want me to."
"I'd appreciate that. You do realize the Empire'll use the truce toregroup and rebuild?"
"I certainly hope so; they haven't been doing too well the last severalweeks."
* * * * *
As he had for the last month, Medart woke feeling like he hadn't sleptfor a year. If anything, Ryan had understated what he'd be goingthrough, starting Sandeman-style magical training so late. He hurt allthe time, and was usually on the edge of nausea, making it difficult toeat. That, in turn, meant he'd lost weight he could ill afford.
On the whole, he knew, he was in lousy shape--probably his worst sincethe early part of his recuperation from that Traiti almost tearing himin half. He'd been having doubts, the last couple of days, whether ornot he'd be able to make it through the training, much less be able tofight and win a duel with someone who'd been using magic all his life.He couldn't quit now, though; at the very worst, he was buying theEmpire some time. And there was always a chance he'd win the duel;pure dumb luck had been known to come to the rescue before.
He sighed, then forced himself to get out of bed, bathe, and dress.He'd been supplied with warrior-drab coveralls, complete with his armson the breast--not too different from his uniform, and more practicalthan the civvies he'd worn at first.
And after the first couple of days, Ryan had ordered him exempted fromthe chores the entire warrior caste shared--cooking, clean-up, laundryand the like--because of the toll his training exacted even that early.Medart was grateful, though
he'd felt guilty about it at first; by now,guilt had been swallowed by the chronic pain.
It amused him that he'd been more or less adopted by the lady Kelly andher son Haley, one of the young warriors in training. Like the rest ofthe clan, Haley had been aloofly superior at first--the typicalSandeman reaction Medart expected from those who hadn't been aroundImperials much--but his stubborn determination to learn in spite ofwhat the lessons did to him had broken down that reserve. The clanaccepted him, and those two had practically become mother hens. Asusual one--Kelly, this time--met him at