Phelan rubbed his left hand across the knuckles of his right fist. "I asked the Khan to stop the beating. He replied that if it concerned me, I should stop it. The method I chose was to engage the warrior in a fight." The young warrior let a slight smile crack his otherwise serious expression. "I stopped him."
"Then you admit, as a bondsman, that you assaulted a member of the Warrior caste, Quiaff?"
"If you choose to classify a fist fight as an assault, then my answer is yes." Phelan's green eyes narrowed slyly. "But as I understand my oath, I would be remiss in not admitting that I did assault two Warriors on that occasion."
That admission brought the Inquisitor's head up, and elicited other surprised reactions from some Council members. It was clear that a number of members were feeding Leroux the same request through her earphone, and equally clear that she spoke under duress. "Explain."
"During my fight with the first Warrior, an Elemental outside her armor sought to restrain me. In the heat of battle, I did not realize what was happening and managed to stun her with a lucky series of punches. This happened just before I broke the other warrior's nose with a punch and knocked him unconscious." Phelan cringed inwardly, knowing that Evantha Fetladral had to be present in the Council Chamber, for she had earned her Bloodname well before the invasion of the Inner Sphere. I don't want to embarrass her, but it's the only way I can see to break this Inquisitor's rhythm. What's going on here? Why am I on trial?
"Excuse me, Loremaster." Garth Radick's soft voice seemed barely to carry from his throat to Phelan's ears. "I think it is obvious that these questions have little bearing on Phelan Wolf's worthiness as a member of the Wolf Clan. When we adopt someone into the Warrior caste, we require that he has proved himself, heart, mind, and soul, to be a Warrior. I would suggest that Khan Ulric's use of Phelan Wolf as a resource in the Rasalhague conquest proves he has the mind of a Warrior. His choice of personal combat to settle the problem with another Warrior on Rasalhague certainly suggests he has a Warrior's heart."
Garth looked down at Phelan. "Tell us what you did on the bridge of the Dire Wolfin the Radstadt system."
"Do you mean when I found Khan Ulric and helped him from the room?"
"No." Garth shook his head, letting a smile grow on his face. "That is a story I believe we have all heard time and again since it happened. I fear any retelling at this point, were you to adhere to your oath of truth, would merely diminish the tale we have all heard."
A mild ripple of laughter ran through the chamber. Garth let it die before he began to speak again. "What I wish to know is what you did on the bridge after that. The technicians had told you that the seal on the hole in the hull was overstressed, quiaff?"
"Aff. They had started to evacuated the few rescue teams we had in the room." Phelan shrugged. "I was headed back out, but when I saw a pair of legs move, I went over and freed that Warrior ..." He stopped abrupUy as the Khan motioned to him.
"Please, you have eliminated an important detail here." Garth looked out at the Council. "This Warrior you found lying there. He was the Warrior who captured you, Quiaff?"
"Aff."
"He participated in your interrogation, and the first time you met face to face, he assaulted you, Quiaff?And then, aside from finding the most demeaning labors for you to perform on a regular basis, he also gave you a beating with a neural lash that left your back bloody and raw, Quiaff?"
Transient tendrils of pain writhed through Phelan's back at the memory. "Aff."
Garth smiled. "And yet, when you saw your tormentor lying there with the seal about to blow on the bridge, you freed him from the debris trapping him and then hauled him out of the bridge. Why?"
"I guess, ultimately, because it was not finished between us." Phelan's head came up and he met Garth's stare evenly. "My tormentor had beaten me in a fist fight, and I returned the favor. In our first encounter, he beat me in a 'Mech duel. If I had let him get sucked out into space, I would never be able to prove who was truly better. I'd never know if he beat me because he is a superior MechWarrior or because his 'Mech was so much better than mine."
From somewhere deep inside him, Phelan's anger and outrage at the abuse he had endured at the hands of Vlad crystallized. "I saved him because if Vlad is going to die, it will be at my hands."
Garth waited as gasps of outrage and a smattering of applause echoed through the chamber. He stood and pointed a hand toward Phelan. "Can there be any doubt, my fellow Wolves, that this man possesses the soul of a Warrior? Can anyone deny him entry into the Warrior caste of the Wolf Clan?"
The Loremaster stood as Garth took his seat again. "I call for the vote on whether or not Phelan Wolf should be accorded the rights and duties of a Warrior of the Wolf Clan. As he has already been formally adopted into the Warrior caste, it would require two-thirds of the Clan Council to reject him." The Loremaster smiled coolly. "May all be advised that the Loremaster of the Smoke Jaguars and the Loremaster of the Steel Vipers have expressed an interest in this pup if we reject him."
He punched a button on his control console. "Register your votes now."
* * *
Phelan smiled broadly as Cyrilla and Natasha, stemming the tide of Wolves leaving the chamber, met him at the central dais. "Well, I made it, I think." Seeing the worried expression on their faces, but not comprehending the reason, he asked, "What did the Loremaster mean when he said I had until the end of June to prepare myself for my final acceptance as a Warrior?"
Natasha distractedly waved off his question. "Your birthday is June twenty-seventh. On that day, you will be twenty years old. That is the customary age for a Warrior to test out of his sibko. Depending on how well you do in your testing, you will be assigned duties for the Clan. Don't worry about that. I'll have you in perfect shape. You'll find your test easier than getting kicked out of the Nagelring." Though she tried to make light of the testing process, Phelan sensed apprehension in her tone.
He frowned, but decided not to press her for an elaboration at that point. "If that is not a problem, why do you both look so discouraged?"
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?"