Blood legacy Read online

  Romano's green eyes blazed. "I would maintain that Kai Allard's conduct is very much the subject at hand. Colonel Wolf has asked us to unite our forces to face this mutual threat, has he not? Yet Allard's conduct shows a gross disregard for the lives in his command, and he apparently has no sense of position or honor. Am I to trust my troops to actions where they will have to work under AFFC commanders? How convenient it would be for those commanders to consider my troops expendable, and order them into a similar slaughterhouse situation so that the F-C need not lose any of its own men."

  She smiled cruelly. "Given Hanse Davion's lust for my realm, he could entice me to send my troops against this supposed Clan threat as a prelude to another of his invasions. How can I trust my Confederation's security to men like Allard?" Romano turned to Kai. "You cannot justify your actions, Leftenant."

  Kai trembled with anger, but his self-doubt stopped him from shouting out a hot denial. She's right. You know she's right, a voice whispered inside his mind. You're less a warrior than you are a butcher.

  He forced his fists to unknot, then looked Romano straight in the eye again. "You are correct, Madam Chancellor. I cannot justify my actions with any motive other than personal greed. I could not allow myself the luxury of honorable conduct when I stood to lose friends and comrades in a battle, comrades I valued above all. And I cannot assure you that should I be part of an operation that included your troops, or in which your son served, that I would not have to order the troops to fill a hole in a line, and that the order might not mean everyone would die ..."

  "Ha!" she crowed triumphantly.

  Kai's even voice overrode her shout of victory. "... but I guarantee that in any such situation, I would be at their head, leading the way."

  Kai closed his eyes and inclined his head forward. "I live with the nightmares of what happened on Twycross. And the only thing that allows me to do so is the resolve never to order others into danger I would not be willing to face. If I have to consign men to death, I will be there with them. That, ultimately, is the burden of being a leader. And a burden I am willing to shoulder. It may not be what you call honor, but it is honor enough for me."

  * * *

  Kai let the door to the Council Chamber swing shut behind him, then slumped against the wall. Even as he was leaving the witness stand, Wolf had called Deirdre Lear to come forward. Kai knew that the whole situation on Twycross would be picked apart to the minutest detail, and that most of it would consist of Romano trying to make points in her forever war with Candace. Thank God I don't squabble like that with my sisters or brother.

  "You, Allard." Hohiro Kurita filled the narrow corridor with fists on his hips.

  Kai straightened up. "Yes, Sho-saT

  The angry expression on Hohiro's face matched the grim tone of his words. "I'm looking for Victor Davion. Where is he?"

  "I don't know." Kai shrugged wearily. "What difference does it make?"

  Hohiro's rage cooled in the face of Kai's apathy. The Kurita Prince hesitated for a second, then forced a stern note into his voice. "It makes a difference to me. I believe he is with my sister."

  Kai smothered a smile. "Well, my question still stands. What difference does it make?"

  "What difference?" Hohiro reacted as though Kai's words were an autocannon hit between the eyes. "He is with my sister, and I do not know where they are. This is not done in the Draconis Combine."

  "We aren't in the Draconis Combine."

  "Our traditions govern the conduct of my family and our people no matter where we are. It is a dishonor for an unmarried woman to be in the company of a man who is not blood kin."

  Kai's chin came up. "If you are suggesting that Victor Davion would comport himself in any way not becoming of a gentleman, I would say that you are foolish." The young officer's gray eyes narrowed. "But this isn't really about your sister's honor, is it, Hohiro? You told Victor he was not to see your sister again, and you're angry that he may have violated your demand. This is between you and him, whereas it should really be between him and your sister Omi."

  Hohiro stiffened. "It is a matter of family honor."

  "Ha!" Kai snorted and gave Hohiro a reproving glance. "It is a matter of your ego and your struggle with Victor for dominance of our little community on Outreach. You're missing everything Jaime and MacKenzie Wolf are trying to do here. If I didn't know better, I might think you've been staying up late having long talks with my aunt."

  "Perhaps, Leftenant Allard, you do not understand ..."

  "Oh, I understand, all right. Maybe better than you do."

  Kai's anger at Romano boiled up suddenly, and for once, he could not keep from venting it. "You and Victor see yourselves as heirs to a warrior tradition so honorable as to be sacred to you. You've both ignored the fact that your fathers are committed to a truce that could see us through this Clan crisis. The two of you use our training exercises here as a way to compete with one another, and you're clubbing yourselves to death to do it.

  "You are both fine MechWarriors. You understand how to fight as individuals, and you've got a stunning grasp of strategy and tactics. And you both possess knowledge of the Clans that could only be improved through mutual cooperation. The trust your fathers place in you is more than justified, except when the two of you insist on behaving like feuding children."

  Hohiro tried to hide behind his impassive mask, but Kai would not stop. He could see in Hohiro's dark eyes that many of his shots hit home. "And now this nonsense about prohibiting Omi and Victor from meeting. Face it, just like you and me, Victor and Omi are nobles. They have probably not the slightest chance of knowing happiness or love in any conventional sense. They have no equals in the world with whom they can relax and be themselves. Their marriages will be arranged, their mates chosen for them, and even extra-marital lovers will have to be politically correct, lest there be some scandal that could harm the empire.

  "Now, you and I both know how slim are the chances of your sister and Victor falling in love. And the chances of them consummating any sort of relationship are slimmer yet. That leaves the chances of marriage virtually non-existent. But that does not preclude them from being friends, and through their friendship, gaining a greater understanding of one another's nation. Your sister will likely replace Constance as Keeper of the House Honor. In that capacity, she will be a brake on you when it is time for you to take power. As a friend of Victor, she could easily serve in that capacity for him as well."

  Kai shook his head and waved Hohiro away. "But I don't imagine you'll listen to me because your samurai blood is thundering through your head and drowning out any sense. Pity. You and Victor would be much more effective as friends than enemies."

  As Kai tried to walk past him, Hohiro reached out and caught Kai's shoulder. Kai spun about quickly, but fought the instinct to raise his hands for Hohiro was not poised to strike. "Sumimasen, Allard-san." Hohiro bowed his head. "I am indeed foolish, and you are right to rebuke me. All is not exactly as you have described, but enough so that you have given me much to consider."

  The Kurita Prince gave Kai a half-smile. "I am concerned for my sister, but your points are well taken. Perhaps you could communicate to Victor my apprehensions. In the Combine, perception becomes reality with surprising swiftness, and I wish only to protect my sister from damage to her honor."

  Kai nodded. "I can do that."

  "And I, in turn, can and will take a new look at Victor Davion. Perhaps Outreach is a place where the old tradition of rivalry gives way to a more practical one."

  Kai smiled and even chuckled lightly. "I hope so." And if you two succeed in patching it up, maybe, just maybe, I can get you to talk to Romano.

  12

  Clan Council Chamber, Hall of the Wolves

  Strana Mechty, Beyond the Periphery

  25 April 3051

  Phelan Wolf looked questioningly at Cyrilla, who was laughing. "It is getting nasty. How can you laugh?"

  She shrugged easily. "I dearly love watching
Conal make a fool of himself."

  Off to their right, a Clanswoman stood in place, haranguing her fellow Wolves. "We face the most important Clan election since before we left the Inner Sphere. Soon we must choose a new ilKhan, and the Khans we elect today will affect the outcome of the other election. One of them might even be chosen as the next ilKhan. This, if for no other reason, is why we must replace Ulric Kerensky."

  The young MechWarrior frowned. "I do not know, Cyrilla. The speakers have been hammering Ulric pretty hard. All were obviously Crusaders whose main objection is that he is a Warden. It looks grim to me."

  "So it might appear." A spark of amusement lit Cyrilla's brown eyes, but her voice took the tone Phelan had come to associate with lessons for him. "If you know a storm is likely to do damage, you button up as tightly as possible, then you wait for the storm to blow itself out before trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild. The arguments we have heard seemed to build one upon another and to pick up momentum. But their foundation is quicksand."

  "It is?" Pehlan narrowed his green eyes. "The speakers say that Ulric abrogated his responsibilities by not honoring the compromise made when the invasion was planned. They have accused him of everything from stupidity to outright treason."

  Phelan jerked his head in the direction of a handsome, dark-haired man seated just below their place. "And they push Conal Ward as a logical replacement for Ulric. If only half of what the speakers say is true, Conal could be a good leader."

  Cyrilla folded her arms across her chest. "He may, indeed, be a good leader, but I think he has overstepped his bounds here. Conal backed Nevski's challenge to the Dragoon's DNA vote, and yet that effort failed badly, thanks to Evantha's own persuasive skills.

  "You know enough of our ways to realize that we place efficiency and superiority in military arts above all else. A Khan is one who has strong support within the Clan. The Clan members know he will bring them victory at the lowest cost possible. Right now, Conal shows himself a master of politics and rhetoric, but all this talk has not won a single battle in the Inner Sphere. Ulric, who is no novice when it comes to politics or war, will be re-elected."

  The younger man eyed Cyrilla suspiciously. "More of your behind-the-scenes bargaining?"

  "I would not be a House Ward Leader if I did not mind the affairs of all Wards, would I?" Her brown eyes flashed impishly. "I warned Conal not to push himself as competition for Ulric. I told him I would publicly endorse Ulric if Conal became a contender for Ulric's seat. This would point up Conal as a divisive influence within House Ward— something that would make most Clanfolk uneasy."

  She smiled at Phelan. "We Clanfolk like people who know how to take and follow orders."

  Phelan shook his head. "That explains why they view me with apprehension."

  "Oh, not so much as you think." Cyrilla sat back in her chair. "If the reports of your 'Mech exercises are accurate, it is true that you operate in an unorthodox manner. But you get results. As a people, we also appreciate and respect that. Our society does not particularly encourage individuality, but we are capable of recognizing and understanding its value."

  Phelan looked down at where Ranna sat beside Natasha. "I wish my unorthodox methods would work better against Ranna. She is my bane."

  "And as she is also your lover, she knows you better than the others with whom you must fight." Cyrilla tapped her left index finger against her lips as she reflected for a moment. "When faced with three-to-one odds, a MechWarrior would usually take up a defensive position and try to inflict as much damage as possible on anyone who came after him. He knows the other side will send their least experienced warrior first, then the next level of experience, and finally the best of their number. Your willingness to play hunter instead of hunted is a shock, as is your willingness to shoot at more than one opponent at one time."

  The younger MechWarrior shrugged. "That is how we do things back home. Aside from some strange battles with Draconis Combine warriors, most combat is a semi-organized free-for-all. Up 'til now, the Clans have not seen much of our fighting style because your 'Mechs are so much better than ours. Now that I fight in a 'Mech on a par with yours, the Clan rules of battle do not function as effectively."

  He let a smile brighten his face. "And I do not know if Ranna is effective against me in a battle just because she is my lover. Not only is she a good MechWarrior, but she has patience. That seems to be a quality many of your people lack. With generations of children being born in lab facilities every five years and a Warrior's slide to oblivion starting at forty-five years of age, a long-term view is not very common here."

  "Ah, yes, the famed Kerensky vision." Cyrilla nodded. "Ulric has it, as do Ranna and all the Kerenskys since Aleksandr himself. It is something in the Kerensky bloodline. Freebirth! I have tried to get the Keepers of our Bloodline to arrange for its blending into the Ward line, but the Kerenskys seem reluctant to give us the genetic material we desire."

  Cyrilla laughed lightly. "Actually, Natasha is without the Kerensky vision. She has ever been one for action now rather than later." Cyrilla pointed down toward where Natasha sat. "She is the only Kerensky with an unblooded aide. For a Kerensky to bring one to a Clan Council is almost as serious a breach of House honor as Natasha's conduct and language here."

  From Cyrilla's smile, Phelan guessed that she did not find Natasha's conduct particularly shocking or heinous. "What is it with unblooded aides? Vlad is over there with Conal, and I see other young people I assume to be unblooded who are with individuals you point out as part of House Ward. I know enough of the Clans to understand that this is significant, but I have yet to puzzle out the true meaning."

  "You do recall my saying that candidates for a Bloodname are selected by nomination from within the House, Quiaff?"

  "Aff. Or by combat."

  "Well, bringing an unblooded aide to the Clan Council, especially one convened to elect the Khans and the Loremaster, is an endorsement of sorts. It lets others see who an individual favors. Conal favors Vlad and I favor you."

  Phelan bowed his head. "I am honored."

  "And when the opportunity arises, you will honor me by winning a Bloodname."

  "I hope to prove myself worthy of your support." Phelan chewed on his lower lip. "Why would it be a breach of honor for a Kerensky to bring an unblooded aide to a Clan Council meeting if everyone else does it?"

  Cyrilla shrugged. "The Kerenskys are supposed to hold themselves above this political infighting. It is a tradition that began with Nicholas, but apparently, ends with Natasha. Those years in the Successor States have changed her, honed her to an edge that I think will cut away at the heart of the Clans."

  "When she tests out as a Warrior, it will certainly start some tongues wagging, Quiaff?"

  "Aff, in a very big way. If Natasha can regain status as a warrior, we will have to question the idea of retiring warriors at an age when they may not yet have reached their peak. And if you test out, we will have to question the superiority of our ways over those that shaped you."

  "I will do my best to make you proud."

  Cyrilla nodded. "I anticipate no problems. I have more confidence in your ability to win than I do in my ability to figure out what Conal is up to. I am beginning to think he has some plan in mind here."

  Phelan frowned. "It seems obvious to me. He wants to defeat Ulric and become a Khan. His desire must have outweighed your warning to him."

  "Perhaps that is what we are supposed to believe. I do not like the fact that all the speakers attacking Ulric and backing him are fringe members of the Crusader cadre of our Clan. Those I would have assumed to be Conal's strongest supporters have been the least vocal during this debate."

  "Maybe Conal is saving his big guns for later. Perhaps this is his way of bidding away supporters so the fight will not escalate into something he cannot win."

  "An interesting analysis." The old woman's eyes narrowed. "While we do bid away troops when staging a battle, our political fights have never ope
rated in that way before. He has to be up to something."

  Cyrilla fell silent as her eyes focused beyond Phelan. He spun around and saw Conal Ward rising to speak.

  "Loremaster, my Khans, and colleagues. I have heard many people castigate Khan Ulric for his conduct during the first stage of the invasion of the Inner Sphere. They note that by conquering more worlds than did any of the other Clans, he has violated an agreement under which the invasion was begun. They suggest that by pushing further than any other Clan into the Successor States, he has disgraced and dishonored us. They say that by prematurely launching waves, he has goaded other Clans into disastrous acts of daring that resulted in serious defeats for the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars."

  Conal's voice was strong, and he knew how to shift the tone and speed of his delivery to catch his audience in his rhythm. An engaging speaker, he had a warrior's dignified bearing to emphasize that his substance was equal to his style.

  "I have also heard these same speakers extol my virtues and set me up as the man to replace Khan Ulric. They cite my experience in leading our Heavy Cavalry Galaxy and my past successes in campaigns against the Snow Raven and Ghost Bear clans. They remind you that I won my Blood-name at the age of twenty-seven and that four Clans have offered to trade for my genetic material. They point out that my offspring, though only ten and fifteen years old, already dominate their sibkos.

  "I have heard these words and I must plead guilty to the vanity that makes me take pride in them. I will not, however, let anyone suggest that my actions make me worthy to replace Khan Ulric. There are others here—Cyrilla Ward, Natasha Kerensky, and Anton Fetladral, for example—who are far more suited than I to the position of Khan. Indeed, both Cyrilla and Anton have served in that role before and should be considered for service again."